#⠀ㅤㅤ ⠀ㅤㅤ ⠀ㅤㅤ ⠀ㅤㅤ ⠀ㅤㅤ

[rottenfyre]

Damian: "Father, who was the worst Batgirl?"

Bruce: "...I’m not answering that."

Tim: "It’s typically Y/N."

Silver!Y/N: "Oh? Do tell, Timothy."

Tim: "You were reckless, physically weak, emotional, always got Bruce and Jason into trouble, and you killed someone once."

Silver!Y/N: "..."

Silver!Y/N: "Tim?"

Tim: "Yeah?"

Silver!Y/N: "Do you know why Bruce always call me to interrogate bad guys?"

Tim: "Uh…"

Silver!Y/N: "I’m a doctor. I know what to cut and break to make people wish they were dead without actually dying. It’s art, really."

Tim: "..."

Silver!Y/N: "Does anyone else have something to say about me?"

Jason: "Nah, Tim’s got a point. You were weak."

Silver!Y/N: "Oh, sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me dragging your unconscious body out of a burning warehouse."

Jason: "That was ONE time—"

Silver!Y/N: "And who got stabbed because he was too busy yelling at a thug instead of looking behind him? Hmm? Oh right, you."

Jason: "Whatever..."

[haobae]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✿‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ⠀⠀⠀ 🌸💧🍀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

[lachatalovematcha]

🍮🎀⭐️どうでもいい人を選んだし🍮🎀⭐️*:･ﾟ（⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠）*:･ﾟそうじゃない違うのよ*:･ﾟ☀️🎀🌈*:･ﾟごごごごめん*:･ﾟ☀️🎀🌈

[devoildrs]

[agatalunar]

new year, new me… ㅤㅤ𖤓 · What will 2025 bring you? ㅤㅤ· 𖤓

merry christmas everybody 🤍🎄 sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy this last reading of the year, and as always thank u for your support… it would be a pleasure for me if you let me know if the reading resonated with you so do not hesitate to send me a message, comment or reblog, it will make me immensely happy

- choose the one with which you feel most connected -

Pile 1… 2… 3…

ㅤㅤ

𖤓 Pile 1

cards: five of pentacles, six of wands, five of wands, nine of pentacles, five of coups

Independence is a great word for this year that is beginning. You are going to start facing the world on your own, so you must act with certainty. It is a year of a lot of personal growth in relation to how you want to present yourself to the world, what you offer.

“Adult life is no longer a game.” You may be a very, very young person or you may not have had the opportunity to do things on your own, but if you really want the things you want, it is important that you take action.

It is a year in which your soul is going to take very different paths in relation to the past and all of them will be good if you know how to choose them and know how to handle them. For some reason it is as if you are embarking on the path of being a CEO/ a type of boss (?)

Getting out of your comfort zone, recognizing your potential and having security and confidence will lead you to success. Use your mind but also your heart, do not let greed or ego guide you. You may want this to help your family's finances, but you are also doing it for yourself. You deserve to get everything you want and the universe is helping you get it in 2025. Be patient and don't despair. Everything comes at the best time.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Happy than ever - Billie Eilish, This will be - Natalie Cole, “we don't play around”, Let me - Zayn, Whatever - Oasis, “Im freeee”, applause, decisions, “all action is reaction”, being latinx or latin descent, depend on others financially, Cuba or Miami, 565, 6, 3, 333, “I used to pray for what I have today”, Simple - Kali Uchis, Jenny from the block - Jennifer Lopez, emigrate-migrate, vision board

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 1 ♡

𖤓 Pile 2

cards: eight of pentacles, knight of swords, the moon, knight of cups, the dead

2025 brings you a lot of internal learning. Your guides want to communicate with you. Dive into the spiritual sea of ​​your soul and life purpose. Dare to see what has been hidden for a long time.

You will know and recognize yourself from a deeper perception, you may need to connect with your past lives, understand where certain repetitive patterns come from, your soul needs to be healed and there is no one else who can do it but yourself.

If for a long time you have wanted to buy crystals, tarot cards, learn more about astrology, meditate... 2025 is the perfect year to carry all that out.

Do not set expectations, enter that path with a blank mind. "Reborn." You will become the most authentic version of yourself when you manage to recognize the spirituality in which you live. Do journaling, automatic writing, guided meditations... etc. And remember that healing the soul is also about eating well, surrounding yourself with people who have positive intentions, not being hard on yourself and just taking life easy.

This process will also change your style, you will want to dress differently, your observation of yourself will change completely and everything will be for your highest good. Your spiritual guides can't wait for you to take that big step... "do it, do it baby"

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Frailty - Violent vira, 18, 8, “save yourself”, third eye chakra, role models, Very special - Chris brown, Nobody - mitski, Conquest of Paradise- Vangelis, watch things on the laptop at 3 am, Chachachá - Josean Log, Blueprint - Tyler Jane, blue light

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 2 ♡

𖤓 Pile 3

cards: the chariot, the magician, knight of cups, eight of wands, the moon

“Just take it easy, baby, enjoy it”. Literally just have fun, 2025 is a year where you shouldn't think about things so much, “don't overthink it”. Act like a child, enjoy the moment, don't worry about what might happen. But just because you let yourself be guided by the universe doesn't mean you have to leave your inner voice behind, use your intuition, have faith and trust but act consciously.

DANCE, connect with your inner child. Don't care what people might say, it's your life and you decide how to live it. Dare to challenge the rules you've been forced to follow. Connect more with music, it may be a way for you to heal or simply relax.

Be your best friend, no one will know you as well as you know yourself. Take care of yourself in all aspects, physically, energetically and above all emotionally and mentally. Transform nostalgia into healing potential.

Just as you act when no one is watching, act the same way when everyone is watching; 2025 will be a year of great satisfaction for you, the universe embraces you and pats you on the shoulder so that you take the next step.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

BTBT - B.I, 222, False starts - Zayn, “trust me, you’re not gonna crash”, butterfly, Felling good - Nina Simone, wings, Alma mia - Natalia lafurcade, cherry, strawberry, makeup for children, 2000s, Deceptacon - Le Tigre, blue shirt with white stripes, party decoration, dancing in the kitchen, rock, music from your childhood or what your dad listened to, Rock you like a hurricane - Scorpions, As it was - Harry Styles, “be a diva”, You & Me - Jennie, Opera House - Cigarettes after sex, Modern Love - David Bowie, The breakfast club

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 3 ♡

[lizaalzhy]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝗋ɑ𝗇𝖽𑄝𝗆 ꯱𝗒𝗆𝖻ᨣ𝗅 𝗉ɑ𝖼𝗄𝗌 ♡

ㅤི۪۪۪۪ꪆ 𖣶 ୧ྀ۪۪۪۪ㅤㅤㅤㅤˑ 𐂯 ۪── 𔓘 ۟ㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𐔌ׁ ︩︪࣭𖣂︪︩ ּ۫ 𐦯 𔘓

ㅤ ׁ۪ 𖠪᭄ּ۫ɞ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ𖦞͠ ۪ 𐂂⸞ °ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓈒 ֹ ၄၃ႄ ˑ ˳

ㅤ𖧷͜͡⊹𓈒 ꕮ ִ ۫ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓄼 ּ⟅︪︩♡︩︪⟆ּ 𓄹ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ˳ 𝜕𝜚 ֢𝀈⊹

[en-gelicc]

(҂` ﾛ ´) ⠀♰⠀ 𝖡𝖤𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖥𝖴𝖫 🎬 ʾ ⠀❚❚

⠀⃝🪦ㅤㅤ⠆ ㅤ⒛ ͏ ͏الفتاة التي تعرفها الآن ͏ ͏ ㊙ ͏ ͏ ♱

[woenti]

m-m-moots?😓‼️

guys i need moots pls🙁

[floralscented]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟔𝟕.ᐟ ˎˊ˗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ───── SEASON ONE, ───── ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ───────── PART ONE ─────────

────────────────────────────────────────────

summary. california is a long drive & different in many ways to how dean's small-town, southern life in kansas was. but if there's one thing that's the same, it's the crackling of the annual start-of-the-year bonfire.

ㅤword count ! ㅤㅤ 2.7k ㅤㅤ content warnings ! ㅤㅤ no warnings! maybe a lil angst if u squint? welcome to stanford! ㅤㅤ track the season !

stanford is a twenty-seven hour drive from lawrence. all twenty-seven hours on the road were spent with the music so loud that dean’s ears still rang. he didn’t want to think about how his dad didn’t even tell him bye, or how sam was at school, and wouldn't get to. 

dean was strong, built to be a soldier from the moment he could hold a gun, constantly rising from the ashes of the destruction that his dad made of him, but he was not strong enough to know his brother would come home to an empty house. there was no doubt that their father would have skipped town already, on an alleged case that was more than likely just drowning himself in a case of booze.

it was whatever. he’d convinced himself of that in the two days that it’d taken to get from the shitty town that was lawrence to campus. his whole senior year was stressful to get to where he was now. minimum wage jobs, killing himself at football practice so the stanford recruiters would be interested in him, so he stood a chance. plus, his academics were stellar. he worked his ass off — just to have to abandon sammy at home, and not even get an ounce of approval from his stubborn father.

in front of him, the main building on stanford university’s campus towers above him like the greatest of monsters. the glass doors are open, held in a way that was meant to be inviting but was actually a little intimidating. the maws of the creature visible through its snarling mouth. 

dean had faced demons that wore his family’s face, who called him every name that they could think of while they rotted in a devil’s trap. he’d felt the fangs of a vampire hovering over his jugular before he’d even hit double digits, after his father did the hunter equivalent of tossing him into the deep end of the pool without any hands to catch him. this, though, felt like the scariest of all of them, just because of how natural it felt to get away.

he had to go get a parking pass. had to get his room assignment. had to talk to the football coaches about his position and his scholarship. had to unpack. all of the shit he had to do was piled atop the shit that he wanted to do, burying it in the rubble.

clusters of students already walk together down the brickstoned paths, their voices echoing off of the arched walls. their versions of home were rooted in civilization and the comfort of others, whereas his was in solitude and being on his lonesome.

dean didn’t get intimidated. he didn’t worry. but his skin was starting to crawl with the realization that he was as much of an outsider as outsiders could get. he did not belong amongst these people, felt like a wolf waltzing in sheep's clothing, but the point was that he was trying to.

he flips his phone open, a habit he’s developed since leaving home, to check for missed calls. there wasn’t a thing he could do if sammy needed help, but he wanted him to call, anyways. wanted to hear his voice. wanted to say sorry for abruptly leaving. 

but there was nothing, still. at least the excuse now could have been that sam was in school, but he was getting anxious. didn’t want to know how the absence of john winchester’s favorite punching bag would translate onto the next in line. 

dean shoves open the residence building’s door, struck dumb for a second by how long the line was. it made sense, but it still caught him offguard him, a little, that he was here. 

he’d made it.

a trio of girls finish up at the front desk and brush past him as they leave, one of them immediately breaking into giggles when they stumble away from him. the other two steal glances backwards at him once they’re nearing the exit. one's eyes lingered, held his stare like even if he clearly was out of place, you were not afraid of what it meant to be in the line of fire.

yeah. he liked it here. he could get used to this. 

next is a guy with shaggy black hair and the broadest shoulders that dean had ever seen. dean was big for his age, yeah, he'd thrown himself into working out when he realized that football was working for him, but this was a guy, clearly, who operated because of his bruteness, not the other way around.

his eyes are downturned toward the stack of papers in his hands, books tucked into the crook of his elbow, a backpack that looked ridiculously small on his shoulder. his eyes lift to squint down the line of people, like he's looking for something, and dean realizes in a wave of surprised horror when they land on him, that it was him he was looking for.

"dude!" the guy shouts — shouts! in the dead silence of the building! — his papers crinkling in his fists. he stomps up to dean and tosses his arms around him in a hug that dean had no choice but to awkwardly return, squashed arms patting at the guy's elbows.

dean didn't mind standing out, but this was another level. every eye in the room was on him when he was already certain that they were staring, and all he wanted to do was disappear. maybe this guy would crush him into pulp and solve those issues for him.

"you're my roommate," he says, scruffing a palm through dean's mop of blonde hair. "my roomie. ah, look, you're blushing."

dean's mortified. he shoves a hand into the guy's arm again, this time with the intent to push him away. "shut up." he nods at the crumpled paper's in his hands. "what the hell is your name, anyways?"

"taylor." taylor's eyes fall to his papers again, eyes narrowed as he scans across whatever he's reading. "dean. helluva name."

dean can't help but snort. "i mean. yeah. it's definitely... a name," he shoves his hands into his jeans' pockets, "football?"

stupid question, but he doesn't know what else to say to him. the guy's about to bust out of a letterman jacket, stretching the leather of the fabric with his broad frame. if he hugged dean one more time, it'd probably split down the back. "hell yeah," taylor says, and maybe the leather is used to this guy's antics, because when he lifts his arms in a flexing sort of pose, all it does is creak, "lineman for the last four years."

dean follows the slowly shrinking line, and to his dwindling horror, his roommate follows. yeah, he's a little much, but he's friendly, and dean really could use a friend in these times. "quarterback," dean answers a few seconds too late, then adds, "we're probably not gonna see the green at all this year, y'think?"

"speak for yourself," taylor snorts, adjusting the bag hanging off of him, "i'm gonna be a starter if it fuckin' kills me."

"yeah, alright," dean laughs, shaking his head. "good luck, man."

underclassmen usually didn't get anything but the bench, unless they were stupid good, and dean was stupid good for kansas standards; he was fully convinced for there to be a spot on the bench indented from his ass by the end of the season.

taylor had shrugged his backpack off in the few seconds that dean had zoned out, rifling through the front pocket for something. he tugs out a black sharpie and plucks the cap off with his teeth. "wisteria, gerhard casper quad, castaño building. room 12." his voice is muffled through the cap in his mouth.

"i don't know what any of that means, dude," dean says, blinking a couple of times in succession. taylor's already got his wrist in a death grip though, tugging it into his space, the cool tip of the permanent marker scribbling on his inner wrist.

"neighborhood, the buildin' complex, n' the buildin'," taylor lisps around the cap, tugging dean forward when the line moves again. "c'mon, keep up. we gotta get the fuck outta here, stake out the frat."

dean physically cringes.

"don't make that face." taylor spits the cap into his open palm, giving dean a bright grin. dean really can't handle this much energy when he's operating on three hours of sleep on a shoddy motel bed, after driving as long as he did. "it's phi kappa psi. they're like, the frat."

"oh."

taylor nods again to make dean move forward. one more person in line. "yeah, oh. gotta get our foot in the door, bud, 'fore some fuckin' losers take our spots."

dean is not interested in a frat whatsoever. if anyone tried to haze him, he's not confident in his ability to keep from snapping their jaw. his fight or flight had gone dormant since he'd pulled back from hunting, but it was still there, something that lingered constantly in the back of his mind.

"'sides, they're havin' a bonfire tonight, y'know?" dean did not know. but taylor likes how his voice sounds, it seems, and dean is very okay with just letting him talk. "for all the freshies. have it every year."

dean nods slowly, setting all of his things on the counter for the attendants. student id, driver's license, all of the works. in the trade, he's given his class schedule, his basics' books, parking pass, and his room assignment. he compares it to the unintelligible words on his wrist in black ink and — yeah, they could be the same.

"well, i'm gonna nap when we get to our room," dean says with a lopsided grin, "so if the bonfire's good, come 'n get me or somethin'."

"you're an idiot."

dean shrugs. "sure."

"free booze, sorority girls fallin' all over us..." taylor whistles under his breath before he promptly smacks dean over the head. "idiot."

his arms are heavy from his books. his eyes are heavy from the drive. he hasn't had real food that wasn't cooked and thrown into a brown paper bag in nearing forty-eight hours. but the thought of being at a bonfire that wasn't made with the intent to burn a body but just to have fun and meet people was nice. mundane. he wanted to be mundane so desperately.

dean shoves taylor back in the chest, a laugh falling from his grinning mouth. "yeah. yeah, alright, i'll go."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ────

the hot smell of burning firewood and spilt beer were the first two things to grace dean's nose upon walking onto the spacious front lawn of phi kappa psi's building.

guys in jerseys and backwards hats manned a white foldout table besides the asphalt porch steps, red cups in their free hands. girls in short skirts and guys in mussed up versions of their sunday best hovered around in clusters.

dean had left taylor at the drinks table, unwilling to listen to him dickride frat guys who were probably too off their asses to know what was being said to them. around the fire were foldout chairs, legs dug into the soft grass, and a huge tray of marshmallows and various other snacks to cook over the flame, parallel to where dean sat.

he was content, he realized. he could have no one in the world at this school, except maybe taylor, who might or might not drop him like a dime if he got accepted into the frat. so long as he could have fires that didn't smell like charred bodies and burning hair, and walk around a campus full of hundreds of people and not have to worry if any of them were something else beneath their skin.

his eyes flick up from watching the flames at the sight of legs approaching the tray. legs in form fitting jeans, legs that plant themselves there like their own piece of furniture. and when he trails up the length of the body a few feet in front of him, he realizes it's you. the girl who held his eyes back in the residency building, with more challenge in your gaze than there was schoolgirl giddiness, like your friends.

you're watching him too. but you don't look away when he meets your eyes, like you didn't then, earlier.

his head jerks to the side, a little quirk of a smile on his lips. a dare. you seemed like the type of girl who liked dares — and again, he was proven right, when you steal two marshmallows from the tray and walk over to him.

"kind of silly to come to a party and sit by yourself," you say, holding out one of the marshmallows to him.

dean takes it, weighing his options for a response in his buzzed mind. "kind of silly to walk up to the weird loner guy sitting by himself at a party."

you grab one of the sticks propped up on various chairs, impaling your marshmallow with it with a hum. "maybe." you lift your shoulders, stick tight in your grip as you hold the marshmallow over the flame. "but i thought the whole point of college was to be silly and exploratory."

dean lifts his chin in a mock thoughtful expression. "really? i thought it was about, i dunno, education, or something like that."

"what's ed-u-ca-tion?" you ask, sounding out each syllable of the word, your face twisting up into a pout that was too pretty for him to think rationally at the sight of. "never heard of it."

he laughs, though, because he just can't seem to help himself. you're cute, and that's dangerous. he was on scholarship, the educational equivalent of big brother over his shoulder, making sure he stayed in line.

“actually,” you continue, fidgeting with the stick in your fingers, “i probably know it a lot better than you do.”

dean’s lip quirk a little more, as he reaches to his left to grab another one of the sticks himself. “fine, i’ll bite. why’s that, sugar?” 

“ugh. sugar. that’s such a douchey nickname.” your pout only deepens, and it’s even more of a sight. puckered frowning lips, pinched eyebrows. he’ll be a goner by the time the night’s over, if you kept it up. “but to answer your question, i’m cheering this year, trying to rush sororities, and here for nursing, so…” 

dean pokes his stick through his own marshmallow, holding it over the fire with one hand. his other reaches into his coat pocket for the pack of cigarettes he kept on him, humming in slight impress. good distraction, he’d once called his cigarette habit. vice of all vices, he said now.

 “alright, well, give me a few minutes to pick a new name for you, yeah?” 

you pluck the marshmallow off of your stick, setting it aside with the hot side up, holding the golden stickiness between your fingertips. “well, so will i, then,” you say defiantly, biting into the charred marshmallow with a crunch. 

dean’s definitely a goner. 

his eyes rake over you, not completely in a flirtatious way, but he had to admit, that you were gorgeous. you’re wearing dark denim jeans, a pair of black boots, and the brightest red cableknit sweater he’d ever seen. 

“cherry,” he says softly, almost wistfully, as his eyes find yours again. 

you seem taken aback for a second, lips parting and closing a couple of times. it might be the golden light crackling from the fire, but your cheeks almost look more pink, too. deep pink, like the inside of a cherry. cherry was a good pick. 

“well, what’s your name?” you shoot back at him, nodding in his direction.

he knows how to cook things over a fire. has burned enough bodies and the evidence of his being there to know. the marshmallow on his stick is charred golden, and he brings it close to light the cigarette in his free hand before he blows the flame on the marshmallow out. 

then, he turns the cooking end of the stick to you in a wordless offering. “dean.” his eyebrows bounce at the same time as his lips tilt in a warm, amused smile. "no frat affiliation, no interest in nursing," he continues with a dramatic sigh, teasing your earlier tirade, "i am on the football team, though. number 67."

"okay," you meet his eyes with that same gleam that was destined to get him into trouble, "i'll call you number 67, then."

special features !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤget to know WINCHESTER ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤget to know READER ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsend in FANMAIL ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwanna know when a new episode drops ? join the WATCHLIST !

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watchlist !

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© i do NOT give permission for my work or ideas to be used, rewritten, or reposted!

[flutterdashes]

ㅤㅤ 🐌ㅤㅤ ¿dónde quedó...ㅤ ㅤ๑ㅤ ㅤ〣( ºΔº )〣

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ(_　_|||)ㅤ ㅤ☆★ㅤ ㅤ...tu cꨄrazón?

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴊ ᴀ ʏ ʙ ɪ ʀ ᴅ ⸻

“ Twisted Wings: The Joker’s Plaything ”

Pairing: Dark Jason Todd x Fem Reader Part 4

Summary: Everything hurts... But... But he can take it... He can take it... He just have to wait... He just have to wait... You and Bruce won't let him rot like this... Right?

Warning: Physically and mentally torture, Joker being Joker.

Notes: Merry Christmas everybody! I'm about to ruin it for you... English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

When the cell door creaked open, Jason didn’t even look up. He kept his head down, staring at the cracked concrete floor.

“Oh, bird boy,” the Joker sang, his voice laced with mockery. “Still sulking, are we? What’s the matter? Don’t like the accommodations? Or is it the lack of fine dining?”

Jason didn’t answer. He barely even moved, his breaths shallow and labored.

The Joker’s boots clunked against the floor as he sauntered in, something dangling from his gloved hand. “Well, lucky for you, Papa J is feeling generous today! I brought you something special.”

Jason’s stomach churned as the Joker dropped his “gift” onto the floor in front of him.

Dead rats. Three of them. Their tiny, broken bodies lay sprawled on the floor, their glazed eyes staring up at Jason.

Jason’s lips curled in disgust, and he finally looked up, glaring at the Joker. “You’re fucking insane,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.

The Joker grinned, crouching down so his face was level with Jason’s. “Oh, come on, kiddo. Don’t be rude. I went through all the trouble of finding these little guys for you! Freshly caught, too. You should be grateful.”

Jason swallowed hard, bile rising in his throat. His stomach twisted painfully, but he refused to give in. He spat at the Joker’s feet, his good eye blazing with defiance. “Fuck you.”

For a moment, the Joker stared at him, his grin faltering. Then, to Jason’s surprise, the clown’s face lit up with genuine delight. He clapped his hands together, letting out a peal of laughter that echoed through the cell.

“Oh, you’re precious! You really think you can starve yourself to death, don’t you? You’d rather wither away than eat the lovely meal I prepared just for you. How dramatic! How noble!”

Jason clenched his jaw, his body trembling with rage and hunger. “I’m not eating your fucking rats.”

The Joker’s grin widened, and he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a phone. “Oh, I think you’ll change your mind, bird boy. Because if you don’t…” He tapped the screen, and the phone lit up. “Well, let’s just say things are going to get a lot more interesting.”

Jason froze. His heart dropped into his stomach as he stared at the screen.

It was her.

She was standing in what looked like an alley, her arms crossed, her face pale. She wasn’t tied up or restrained, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable.

Jason’s chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. “No…”

The Joker’s grin stretched impossibly wide. “Oh, yes. You see, bird boy, if you don’t play along, I’m going to pay your little girlfriend a visit. And do you know what I’m going to do?”

Jason shook his head, his voice trembling. “Please… don’t…”

“I’m going to skin her alive,” the Joker said, his voice gleeful. “I’ll peel her pretty little face right off, inch by inch. Then I’ll cook her up into a nice, juicy meal—just for you! Imagine that: you, sitting right here, munching on her crispy little fingers. Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

Jason’s vision blurred with tears. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. “No… Please, not her. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt her. Please…”

The Joker tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. “Then eat,” he said simply, gesturing to the rats.

Jason stared at the dead animals, bile rising in his throat. He wanted to say no, to refuse, to let himself starve. But the image of her face haunted him—the fear in her eyes, the trembling in her hands. He couldn’t let the Joker touch her. He couldn’t let him win.

With trembling hands, Jason reached for one of the rats.

“There’s a good boy,” the Joker cooed, clapping his hands. “Now, be a dear and eat up. And make it quick—I’ve got places to be!”

Jason gagged as he brought the rat to his mouth. The stench of decay hit him like a brick, and he had to fight the urge to vomit. He closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face, and bit into the flesh.

The Joker erupted into laughter, his cackles filling the room. “Oh, this is priceless! Look at you, bird boy, gobbling up rats like a starving stray. Faster now! Come on, show me how much you care about her!”

Jason obeyed, choking down the rancid meat as tears blurred his vision. The Joker’s cheers echoed in his ears, each word a dagger to his soul.

“Faster! Faster! Don’t keep Papa J waiting!”

Jason sobbed as he forced himself to eat, his body shaking with revulsion and despair. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—her smile, her laugh, the way she used to look at him. He clung to those memories like a lifeline, even as the Joker’s laughter threatened to drown him.

She loves me, she loves me. She was just scared. She’ll come back… She’ll come back…

His mind screamed at him to stop, to fight back, to do anything but this. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let her die.

Everything hurts…

But he could take it.

He had to.

They’ll come for me, he told himself, over and over, like a mantra. Bruce won’t let me die here. She won’t let me die here. I just have to wait. Just a little longer…

But deep down, a voice whispered in the back of his mind—a voice that sounded eerily like the Joker’s.

What if they don’t?

Jason didn’t know how long he’d been in the chair. Days? Weeks? Months? The passage of time had become a blur, a murky haze of pain, humiliation, and Joker’s laughter. He couldn’t tell what was worse—the physical agony or the constant barrage of words designed to pick him apart piece by piece.

The room was cold and damp, the stench of mildew and blood lingering in the air. His wrists were raw and bleeding from the restraints, his muscles aching from being held in the same position for hours—days, maybe. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore. But worse than all of it was the gnawing emptiness inside him.

The door creaked open, and Jason instinctively flinched. He hated that reaction, hated how the sound of that door sent ice through his veins. But it was impossible not to. Joker entered with his usual swagger, his painted grin stretching impossibly wide.

“Wakey, wakey, bird boy!” he sang, his voice grating and shrill.

Jason didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He focused on the floor, the dirt-streaked concrete beneath his feet, anything but the clown.

“Aww, what’s the matter, kiddo?” Joker cooed, circling him like a vulture. “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe…” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. “Maybe you’re starting to break, hmm?”

Jason didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw, ignoring the sharp pain in his cracked ribs. He wouldn’t give Joker the satisfaction.

But Joker didn’t need words. He always found a way to dig his claws into Jason’s mind.

“I brought you a little present today,” Joker said, his tone sing-song. “Thought it might cheer you up, you know, brighten your spirits!” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “It’s picture day, after all!”

Jason finally looked up, his good eye narrowing at Joker. The clown grinned wider and held out the paper, waving it in front of Jason’s face.

“Go on, take a look. Don’t be shy!”

His bound hands couldn’t reach, so Joker leaned in and shoved the picture into his line of sight.

Jason’s blood turned to ice.

It was a photograph. A grainy, Polaroid snapshot of her. She was smiling—laughing, even—standing beside someone in a Robin suit. But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t his suit.

“No…” Jason whispered, his voice cracking.

“Oh, yes,” Joker said, his tone gleeful. “That’s your replacement, kiddo! Isn’t he a real charmer? A little younger, a little smarter… and oh, so much shinier!”

Jason’s chest tightened. He couldn’t breathe. His mind raced, his heart pounding against his bruised ribs.

“She’s moved on, bird boy,” Joker continued, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You’ve been replaced. Forgotten. Left behind. And look at her—she’s happier, isn’t she? Laughing, smiling, all while you’re down here rotting away.”

Jason shook his head, his breaths coming faster. “No… no, she wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t what?” Joker interrupted, his tone suddenly sharp. “Wouldn’t forget about you? Wouldn’t find someone better? Oh, come on, kid. Look at the picture. You’re not even a memory to her anymore. You’re nothing.”

Jason felt tears sting his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn’t show weakness. Not now.

Joker noticed anyway. He always noticed.

“Aww, poor little Robin,” Joker mocked, crouching in front of him. “Does it hurt? Does it sting? Knowing she’s out there, living her life, while you’re stuck here… forgotten… abandoned…”

Jason’s silence only seemed to fuel the Joker’s sadistic glee.

“You know, I bet she doesn’t even think about you anymore,” the clown continued, his voice turning cruel. “She probably doesn’t even remember your name.”

“Shut up,” Jason growled, his voice trembling.

The Joker’s grin widened. “Oh, struck a nerve, did I? What’s the matter, kid? Can’t handle the truth?”

“SHUT UP!” Jason screamed, his voice raw.

Joker’s laughter filled the room, loud and maniacal, echoing off the walls.

“Oh, this is too good! You’re just so much fun to play with, bird boy!” He stood, pacing around Jason’s chair. “You know, I should thank you. Breaking you has been the highlight of my days.”

Jason clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wouldn’t break. He couldn’t.

But then Joker leaned in close, his breath hot against Jason’s ear.

“You know what the best part is?” he whispered. “She doesn’t care. She never did.”

Jason’s resolve shattered.

Joker saw it—the moment the fight left Jason’s eyes—and his grin turned triumphant.

“That’s it, bird boy,” he said softly, almost lovingly. “Just let go. Stop fighting. It’s easier that way, isn’t it?”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

Joker straightened, his grin returning. “Well, I’ll leave you to your thoughts, birdie. But don’t worry—I’ll be back. And who knows? Maybe I’ll bring another little picture next time. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Jason didn’t watch him leave. He stared at the floor, the photograph still burned into his mind.

She was smiling.

She was happy.

And he was nothing.

Jason barely registered the blows anymore. His entire body was a mess of torn skin, bruises, and agony so deep it numbed him to everything but Joker's voice. The laughter. Always the laughter. It echoed in his skull, filling every empty space where his own strength used to be.

By now, Jason had stopped flinching. When Joker’s boot slammed into his ribs again, he just let his head hang forward, blood dripping from his mouth onto the filthy floor.

“Oh, come on now, kid!” Joker taunted, squatting down to meet his eyes. He tilted his head in mock pity, his crimson smile as wide as ever. “Don’t tell me you’ve got nothing to say. Not even a little squeak? No ‘stop it’ or ‘please, sir’? You’re usually such a polite little punching bag.”

Jason forced himself to lift his head, just barely, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Please… sir,” he croaked, his voice hoarse.

Joker’s grin split wider. “That’s the spirit! I knew you had some manners left in you.” He stood, pacing in lazy circles around the boy. “Now, I’ve got some questions for you, birdie. You’re gonna answer them, right? Be a good little boy for Uncle J?”

“Yes, sir,” Jason rasped, his voice trembling.

Joker clapped his hands together like a delighted child. “Oh, how precious! Alright, let’s get started, shall we?” He leaned against the wall, casually spinning a crowbar in his hand. “Tell me, Jaybird… what did you see in her?”

Jason blinked slowly, trying to process the question. His mind was a foggy haze, but when he thought of her—her smile, her laugh—it cut through the pain. His lips trembled. “She… she was everything,” he whispered.

Joker cackled, the sound sharp and cruel. “Everything! Oh, that’s rich! And what exactly does ‘everything’ mean, hmm? Did you think she loved you? That she cared about you?”

Jason’s throat tightened. He wanted to lie, to deny it, but he couldn’t. His voice was barely audible. “Yes, sir. I thought she did.”

Joker laughed harder, clutching his sides. “Oh, you poor, delusional boy! And what about you? What did you want with her? Hmm? Did you have plans, birdie? Little fantasies about your future together?”

Jason swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the floor. The words came slowly, haltingly, dragged out of him like a confession. “I wanted… I wanted a family.”

Joker froze mid-laugh, his grin twisting into something darker. He stepped closer, crouching in front of Jason. “A family?” he repeated, his tone dripping with mockery.

Jason nodded weakly. “Yes, sir. I… I thought we could have a life together. Away from all this.” His voice cracked, tears streaming down his battered face. “I wanted… to marry her. Have kids. Be happy.”

Joker stared at him for a long moment before bursting into hysterical laughter. “Oh, my God! You really are pathetic, aren’t you? A little boy playing house, dreaming of a white picket fence while Daddy Bats fights crime.”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

“And what about now, hmm?” Joker pressed, his grin predatory. “Do you still want that? After what she did?”

Jason’s head dipped lower, his tears falling freely now. “I don’t know, sir.”

The Joker’s smile faded slightly, replaced by something colder. He grabbed Jason by the hair, yanking his head up to force him to meet his eyes. “Oh, don’t go all quiet on me now, kid. You wanted her, didn’t you? You loved her. You would’ve done anything for her. So tell me…” His grin widened again, sharp and cruel. “Do you still love her?”

Jason’s lip trembled, blood mixing with tears as he whispered, “Yes, sir.”

Joker’s laughter exploded again, filling the room with its twisted echo. He shoved Jason’s head back, sending it slamming into the chair. “You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

Jason didn’t respond. He just sat there, broken and defeated, Joker’s laughter ringing in his ears.

“That’s enough for now,” Joker said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “But don’t worry, bird boy. We’ve got plenty of time to dive deeper into that broken little heart of yours.”

And as Joker walked away, Jason let his head hang again, wishing he could disappear.

Jason didn’t look up when Joker came back. He didn’t have the strength. His body was a wreck, each breath a struggle, each movement a new kind of pain. His mind… it was something else entirely. Foggy, frayed at the edges, and slipping into places he couldn’t pull it back from. It didn’t make sense anymore—none of it did.

The world was nothing but pain now. Pain and laughter. The Joker’s laughter, high-pitched and endless, reverberating through Jason’s broken skull.

"Alright, bird boy!" Joker’s voice rang out, sing-song and sharp, dragging Jason back to the surface of his nightmare. “Let’s play a game, shall we? I call it Truth… or Pain.”

Jason didn’t react. His body slumped in the chair, his head lolled forward. He could barely lift his eyes to meet the clown’s, blood and tears crusted to his face like a second skin.

Joker crouched in front of him, leaning close, so close Jason could smell the rancid stench of greasepaint and sweat. “Here’s how it works, kiddo,” he said, his voice mockingly gentle. “I ask you a question. You tell me the truth, or…” He smacked the crowbar into his palm with a wet thud, grinning wide. “You get the idea, don’tcha?”

Jason didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

The Joker’s smile twisted, his patience as thin as the thread Jason was clinging to. He grabbed a fistful of Jason’s hair, yanking his head up. “Nod if you understand, birdie.”

Jason nodded weakly, his neck too stiff and weak to do more than a faint dip.

“That’s my boy!” Joker chirped, releasing him and stepping back. He twirled the crowbar lazily, watching Jason with an almost fatherly gaze. “Now, first question.” He leaned forward, his grin sharpening. “What’s your name, hmm?”

Jason blinked slowly, his brain struggling to process the words. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

CRACK.

The crowbar slammed into his ribs, a sickening snap reverberating through the room. Jason choked on a scream, his body convulsing against the restraints.

“Wrong answer!” Joker sang, his voice bright and cheerful. “Let’s try again, hmm? Who’s Batman’s favorite? Which one of you brats he loves more?”

Jason wheezed, blood dripping from his lips as he forced himself to speak. “D… Dick…”

The Joker tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Oh, really? Are you sure?”

Jason’s throat worked, but the words wouldn’t come.

CRACK.

The crowbar struck again, this time across his knee. Jason screamed, the sound raw and broken, echoing in the dark room.

“Ooh, wrong answer!” Joker said cheerfully. “See, the correct answer is none of you! You’re all just little tools in his utility belt. Didn’t you know that?”

Jason didn’t reply.

“C’mon, birdie! You’re not even trying!” Joker taunted, twirling the crowbar again. “Alright, let’s make this interesting. What’s your biggest fear, hmm? What keeps you up at night, even in this lovely little hell of ours?”

Jason’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps. His vision blurred, but the question cut through the fog. His biggest fear…

The words spilled from him, trembling and desperate, like a confession to a god who wouldn’t listen. “I’m… afraid…” His voice cracked, barely audible. “I’m afraid of forgetting her…”

Joker froze, his grin faltering for just a moment.

Jason didn’t notice. He couldn’t stop now, the words pouring out like blood from a wound. “Please… don’t make me forget Y/N…” His voice broke, tears streaming down his battered face. “It’s only her… only her and me… in this whole world…”

The Joker tilted his head, his grin returning, slower this time. “Oh, kiddo…” he murmured, his tone almost tender.

Jason’s voice cracked again, his words dissolving into sobs. “Just… give me that. Please… please… don’t take her from me… Don’t make me forget her… please…”

Joker stepped closer, crouching again to meet Jason’s tear-streaked gaze. He cupped Jason’s bloodied chin, forcing him to look up.

“Oh, sweet, sweet birdie,” he cooed, his voice soft and mocking. “Don’t you know? She’s already forgotten you.”

Jason’s breath hitched, his chest heaving as the words tore through him like shards of glass.

“She’s out there, laughing, living, loving… while you’re here, rotting away.” Joker’s grin widened, his voice dripping with venom. “And when you’re gone, birdie, no one will even remember you. Not her. Not Batman. No one.”

Jason’s head dropped, his sobs choking him as the Joker’s laughter filled the room once more.

“Truth or Pain, birdie?” Joker asked, raising the crowbar again. “Oops! Looks like it’s both!”

And the blows rained down again, each one erasing a little more of Jason, until all that was left was a broken, empty husk whispering one name into the darkness.

“Y/N…”

Next: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 5.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[hypndiary]

ㅤ꒰ (ㅤletㅤmeㅤinㅤyourㅤoceanㅤ𝆹ㅤ𝆬

ㅤㅤ ᓚ ᕠ ᗢㅤ₊ ˚ ‧ㅤ𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐌ㅤ游泳⠀ 𝅄 ⠀ׂ⠀ ) ꒱

[lachatalovematcha]

⭐️🤎︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵୨୧︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵🥐🤎

🐱๑‧˚₊今 どこでどうなって るの？KYANDII๑‧˚₊🐱

🎂๑‧˚₊チョコを思い出しているのよ๑‧˚₊🎂

🍫やさしさに包まれて・・・🍫

⭐️🤎︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵୨୧︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵🥐🤎

🎀のりのり（｡>ω<｡）！ ☆＊：．｡．のりのり🎀

Ｔｈｉｓ ｉｓ ｏｎｌｙ ｆｏｒ ＮＥＫＯ ｌｏｖｅｒｓ

[devoildrs]

giselle aespa moodboard, pls <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤBuried Me Like a Dogㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ .. 𓂋ㅤㅤ🪵Ɂ̡̣̣̣̣̩̩̩̩

[comikbook]

꒷꒦ㅤ⭑꒷꒦ㅤଳㅤㅤㅤ︶꒷꒷꒦ㅤ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅ㅤ꒷꒦ㅤ⋆꒦︶ ๋ㅤㅤ︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑ㅤ⭑꒷꒦ㅤㅤㅤㅤ꒷꒦ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ₊˚ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ☁︎ㅤㅤㅤ𓇼ㅤㅤㅤଳㅤㅤ𓆡ㅤㅤㅤ⊹ㅤ𓆉ㅤㅤ❅ㅤㅤㅤ୨ৎㅤㅤ𓆞ㅤㅤㅤ♚ㅤㅤㅤ𓆛ㅤㅤㅤ𓆛ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓆛𓆟ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓆡ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𒅃𓐐ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❆ㅤㅤ𓆉ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓆛ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓆝ㅤ꧁♆🕯🕯꧂ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ♚ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❆ㅤㅤㅤ𓆝ㅤㅤㅤ⊹ㅤㅤㅤ𓆟ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❅ㅤㅤㅤ↟ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓆞ㅤㅤㅤ𓆛ㅤ𓆞ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⑅ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ₊˚ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓆉ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ♨ㅤㅤ♨ㅤㅤ𓐐𓆟ㅤㅤ⚅⚁ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓇼ㅤㅤ๑⛁๑⛀๑⛀ㅤㅤㅤㅤ˖𓍢ִִ໋𓇼⋆ㅤ⛁ㅤ⋆ Please enjoy your (optional) ℍ𝕒𝕟𝕦𝕜𝕜𝕒𝕙 Fish, and have a lovely Holdiay.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

:D

[madwomansapologist]

ㅤㅤ ㅤ𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤ 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

Yuzuki Minamoto (皆本 憂好 Minamoto Yūzuki), more often refered to as simply Monster (怪物 Monster), is one of the main protagonists of the Jujutsu Kaisen series. She is a special grade jujutsu sorcerer and heir to the Minamoto Clan, being the only living member to inherit Carnivore Comsuption. Yuzuki work as a teacher at the Tokyo Jujutsu High and uses her influence to intercede against the actions of sorcerers executives.

[ 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] —

Yuzuki is a tall, strong woman in her late twenties. She has charcoal-black long hair, and during work hours uses long hairpins to keep it in a partially tied up bun. Yuzuki uses contact lenses to conceal her red iris and long earrings with rubi pendants.

Yuzuki wears a attired chosen by Noriyori, her mother and head of the Minamoto Clan. She sports a sash, crafted by Tengen to restrict her cursed energy, over a summer robe. Beneath it, Yuzuki wears running shoes. She has a preference for expensive fabrics and tama kanzashi (玉簪 Ball Kanzashi) hairpins. As a Tokyo Jujutsu High student, Yuzuki wore the standard school uniform with a talisman tied around her neck.

During the Shinjuku Showdown Arc, Yuzuki used a long red uchikake made of silk over a pearly-white kimono. She used a ogi bira kanzashi (扇びら簪 Princess style) hairpin.

[ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ] —

Yuzuki is a schemer at her core, exhibiting a calm and relaxed demeanor even during stressful situations. She is usually playful with friends and colleagues, acting gentle and careful towards her students. Yuzuki soothe elders in their presences while sharing her honest opinion near other sorcerers and students.

She is confident in her abilities and uses her reputation as a glutton for bloodshed to ensure her plans against the elders succeed. Yuzuki judges others based on their will to evolve, acting cold to those she finds stagnant and unreliable. She often lies and bluffs, going as far to spread false rumors about herself and her own abilities.

Yuzuki's ability to heal is usually mistaken by a fast RCT (Reverse Cursed Technique), making most curse users avoid engaging with her in physical combat. Her combative style is characterized by non-existent defense and close-range attacks. Yuzuki acts condescending during combat, giving advice to opponents and ignoring the loss of limbs. She tends to make cold-blooded decisions, prioritizing enemies' defeat over anything else.

Yuzuki's caring behavior and violent-methods are contradictions within herself. After being crucified by Toji Fushiguro, she realized healing and torture meant the same for her body. Dealing with a life-long extreme chronic pain due to her heavenly restriction, Yuzuki grew desensitized to pain and often forgets others aren't as resistant.

Yuzuki became a affiliated sorcerer because it was the easiest way to encounter opponents, and ignores any ideologies about duty and responsability as a sorcerer. She dreams of a world where Clans have no power, that is the main reason why she joined [ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝟎 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ].

Alongside with Satoru Gojo, Yuzuki took responsability for Megumi and Tsumiki. Protecting them from the Zen'in Clan, her calm demeanor shatters when they are in danger. She attempted to kill Naobito Zen'in when he offered to buy Megumi from her, now both Clans hostile against one another.

[ 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ] —

Overview

Overall Skill Level: Yuzuki is an exceedingly resistant fighter and one of only five special grade sorcerers. Despite countless rumors, little is know about her powers except that it is impossible to kill Yuzuki in combat. She possesses vasts amounts of cursed energy, but mostly uses her physical prowess and high combat insticts in order to not reveal her true technique.

Yuzuki was the one of the few Minamoto to inherit Carnivore Comsuption and survive their childhood. As student, jujutsu higher-ups observed her closely and often sent her to difficult missions alone. Yaga later regretted that, seeing this as the reason why there is no factual information about her abilities.

Yuziki is know as the best healer in jujutsu history, able to reconstruct allies' missing limbs from a long distance. As a first-year student, Yuzuki was able of regenarating Riko Amanai's brain.

Kenjaku studied Toji's experiment to determine how to disable Yuzuki. Using Mahito, Kenjaku attracted her to [ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ].

Physical Prowess

Master Hand-to-Hand Combatant: Yuzuki is a formidable martial artist, damaging constructions within miles of distance without using any cursed energy. She was capable of overpowering Mahito in hand-to-hand combat as her attacks changed the format of his soul. Fighting alongside Sukuna, Yuzuki managed to keep Mahoraga trapped under her body as the King of Curses activated his domain.

Immense Endurance: Often put in dangerous positions, killing blows can't stop Yuzuki from moving forward. Yuzuki cures brain damage automatically, making it possible for her to use all of her techniques severe times. When Toji crucified her down at the barrier's core, she learned how to modify the shape of her body to escape from traps.

Immense Speed & Reflexes: As her intentions in most combats is to make her opponent hit her with cursed energy, often curses assume Yuzuki is slow to defend. She is an extremely fast fighter, equal to Naobito Zen'in. In her duel with Sukuna, after charging her technique she surprised the King of Curses by avoiding his slash attacks.

Immense Strength: Relying mostly on her physical strength against curses, Yuzuki rarely encountered enemies she couldn't defeat immediately. Healing Yuji Itadori's body, the impact of her energy sent Sukuna flying throught the school walls. Yuzuki was able to carry Ultimate Mechamaru - Mode: Absolute away from Shibuya's center.

Intelligence

Great Tactical Intellect:Yuzuki is tactical, as smart as she is resistant. She is adaptable, learning others' techniques through the pain it causes on her body. Enranging opponents with the lack of cursed energy on her attacks, Yuzuki forces them to activate their own techniques. Once that happens, Yuzuki has the upperhand in any and every battle.

The lies, bluffs and rumors Yuzuki spreads about herself confuses the entirety of jujutsu world. Often times, Yuzuki pretends to expand her domain in order to make opponents take on a defensive stance. It is still unkown for higher-ups if she even has a domain technique.

Cursed Restrictions

Heavenly Restriction: The trade-off for Yuzuki's life-long extreme chronic pain is her entire body constantly creating positive energy. That makes it impossible for her to be damaged for more than a 0.0001 second. The only moment she uses RCT is to heal others, never herself.

Yuji Itadori: In exchange for her protection against jujutsu higher-ups, Yuji Itadori is proihibited from entering a binding vow without Yuzuki there to mediate it.

Minamoto Clan: [ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ].

Cursed Energy

Cursed Energy Capacity: Yuzuki's vast cursed energy is restrict through a biding vow with the Minamoto Clan. Tengen crafted talismans capable of [ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝟎 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ].

Cursed Energy Manipulation: Yuzuki has total control over her cursed energy due to having spent her entire life regulating it to not break her binding vow conditions. When in a situation where she can use it freely, Yuzuki faces zero unnecessary cursed energy loss. Facing Mahoraga, she shifted between her innate technique and simple domain effortlessly.

Cursed Energy Output: Due to her immense control and beneficts from the heavenly restriction, Yuzuki can output insanely high amounts of cursed energy into her techniques. After stealing Divine Flame, she was able of using 120% of its potential to damage both Mahoraga and Sukuna.

Black flash: Yuzuki never once landed a Black flash.

Cursed Technique

Inherited Technique: Carnivore Comsumption (肉食動物 Meat-eater)

Is an inherited technique from the Minamoto family. It grants the capacity to steal whatever technique struck the user as long as they can survive the hit in its double damage. Most members to have enherited this technique died as soon as it developed in their brain, but due to her heavenly restriction Yuzuki can survive the conditions of it. Once a technique is stolen, the details for it are carved into Yuzuki's right prefrontal cortex.

Innate Technique: Shattered Mirror (砕 鏡 Frustrated Mirror)

Any attack imbued in cursed energy is reversed in 120% to the sorcerer once Yuzuki stops feeling the effects of it on her body. Due to her inherited technique, it means the damage will be double once it reaches the opponent. It doesn't replicate long-lasting effects such as poison, loss of limbs or temporary incapacitation. It does replicate inherited and innate techniques, barrier, talisman and shinikami.

Extension Technique: Sanguinory Trap (出血 羂 Tied Bleeding)

Anyone that ingests Yuzuki's blood automatically receives the same damage she does. After using RCT, the cursed techniques fade away but the physical damage continues as her heavenly restriction cannot be healed. The only way to stop it is by making Yuzuki ingest the opponent's blood.

Maximum Output: Offered Suicide (心中 供 Gifted Lover's Suicide)

It's Sanguinory Trap in its maximum use of cursed energy. Yuzuki multiplies positive and negative energy, consequently damaging her brain. Unless the opponent's RCT can be compared to hers, it means instant death. Until october, Yuzuki knew about only two other sorcerers that could survive it: Kinji Hakari and, of course, Satoru Gojo.

Maximum Technique: Ouroboros (ウロボロス Ouroboros)

Ouroboros is the maximum technique of Shattered Mirror. By attacking herself with someone else's maximum output (e.g. Satoru Gojo's Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue, Choso Kamo's Flowing Red Scales), Yuzuki can eccho the doubled wound on a radious of 200 meters.

Shikigami Jutsu: Hana (供花 Flower Shrine)

By opening a wound on her body, Yuzuki can create shikigami's from her dripping blood. Hana is an infestation of humming birds that suck the opponent's blood meanwhile ingesting Yuzuki's blood into their body. It grants her the possibility of using Sanguinory Trap and it's maximum output, Offered Suicide.

Anti-Domain Technique: Falling Blosson Emotion (落らっ花かの情じょう Rakka no Jō)

A secret domain countermeasure passed down in the Big Four Sorcerer Families. Rather than expanding a domain, Falling Blossom Emotion counterattacks with cursed energy the moment a domain's can't-miss attack makes contact.

Domain Expansion: Corroded Shrine (月宮 腐るRotten Moon Palace)

Yuzuki creates a lethal open-domain with a Meiji Shrine as an escape route, a binding vow which vastly increases the guaranteed hit's effective area with a maximum radius of 100 meters. She uses Varada mudra as a hand seal, a gesture associated with Kuan Yin. It represents offering, lack of fear and Kuan Yin's campassion to all beings. Everything that remains inside her domain for more than five seconds is submerged in blood and relentlesly attacked by any stolen technique of her choice. Since the nature of it being an open-domain, in a clash of domains Yuzuki would defeat any close-domain. She never confronted an open-domain before. Yuzuki herself and those she makes physical contact with are immunite to its effect.

Special Abilities: Soul Range

Upon first-meeting, Ryomen Sukuna recognized Yuzuki's soul was stronger than most humans. During a battle with Mahito, he mentioned her soul didn't even trembled at his technique. In the same day, after touching Junpei's shoulder [ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ].

[ 𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐏𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ] —

Cursed Tool: Inverted Spear of Heaven (天あまの逆さか鉾ほこ Ama no Sakahoko)

It is a special grade cursed tool with the ability to completely nullify cursed techniques on contact. It uses an imbued cursed technique fueled by foreign cursed energy. After Toji Fushiguro's defeat, the status of it was unknown even to Tengen.

[ 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 ] —

According to Jujutsu Kaisen Official Fanbook:

Hobby: Reading ancient poems.

Favorite dish: Fish and oyester.

Least favorite dish: Milk.

Cause of stress: The Minamoto Clan and rhinitis.

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