#can be the strongest ones of all

[bafflement]

Deaged Oz AU - The Farming Daze

Oz stretched, moving into a set of warm up exercises that felt as familiar as a second skin. He was still slower than he'd like, but the reflexes were slowly coming back. He glanced over at Oscar, who was watching, sighed and stopped.

"We really do need to source you a weapon, Oscar. At least temporarily. You stated you wanted to learn, after all?"

"Yes, of course I do! But... I don't have anything. You're really certain we can find one?"

"Anything can be a weapon, if you believe in it. However, if we can find something to use as a base, I may be able to alter it for you. It would be better with a workshop, but that can come later. Is there anything in particular you'd be interested in attempting to learn to use?"

"Something with an edge. That or a gun, do you think we could find a gun? Sorry, I know you're more comfortable with the cane, but... I don't think I would be?"

"Different people find different weaponry preferable. You don't have the training yet to use a blunt object as well as you might one day be able to. I do, but... hmm. Maybe we should ask your aunt if she knows of anything? Or at least if she knows of any tools that might help? I rather doubt we could locate a gun, however that's always a thought for the future?" Oz sounded amused, even though it was obvious that he wasn't a massive fan of guns.

"Maybe. Oz? You promise that you'll teach me to be a real huntsman?"

"Of course I will. It would be my honor to help guide you, Oscar, even if you only ever use it to kill the local Grimm."

"I. Okay. Thank you." Oscar looked like he wanted to say something but bit it back. Oz looked concerned, but decided not to press the issue.

Going back inside to find Oscar's aunt, Oz considered. As a farm, there might be something in an outbuilding, but... part of him wondered about Oscar's parents, whether they might have had anything. There was no guarantees that Oscar would want to use something like that, of course, but it might be an option if there was nothing else available.

Aunt Em looked confused for a second. "I... I'm not sure, honestly? There might be something in one of the further barns? Back when Oscar wanted to go to Signal, the plan was always to let him make a weapon there..."

"Understood." Oz said. "Oscar? Could you show me where the barns are located? If nothing else, we could take the time to explore a bit?" A very brief grin crossed his face at the thought and his eyes lit up behind the goggles they'd found as a temporary measure to shield his eyes from the light.

Aunt Em smiled at that. Oz had almost acted like a ten year old in that moment. Almost. Ah well, small steps...

Oscar looked worried as they both scrambled over the rough terrain towards the barns. Oz's limp was more noticeable the further they walked, but he seemed to be coping well enough.

"Are you sure you're okay, Oz?"

"I'll be just fine, Oscar. If I need any help, well, the cane does work as a walking aid as much as a weapon for times such as these."

"You shouldn't need the cane for that child, I'm sorry..." Ozymandias' voice echoed in his mind and Oz froze in shock. He hadn't heard that voice in years, why would he now?

"... Ozymandias?" He thought back, tentatively, but there was no response. Shaking his head, he grinned up at Oscar and kept walking.

"I'll be alright. Besides, I think we can see the barns from here. My, they are in bad shape, aren't they. Maybe you should stay outside, just in case it's dangerous in there."

Oscar stared at him for a moment, visibly comparing their physical statures, a strangely protective look on his face and Oz sighed.

"Then again... maybe not. I am not actually a child, Oscar, I can look after myself, you realise?"

"You're tiny and you limp. Besides, what if there's something on a high shelf?"

"Then I doubt either one of us could reach it, you are not really that much taller than me, after all."

"Hey! I'd still have a better chance than you would!" Oscar sounded wounded, but the smile he gave Oz was fond. "Hey, I wonder if this is what it's like actually having a brother?"

Oz's eyes were soft. "From recollection, it does feel rather similar. Well, well. That is rather interesting, isn't it?"

"If I'm your older brother, then there's no way I'm letting you leave here on your own, okay?"

"You may be something approaching a brother, Oscar, but you do realise you are not, by any measure, actually my elder?" There was a laugh in Oz's voice.

Oscar rolled his eyes and entered through the broken door, turning to quirk an eyebrow at Oz. "Yeah, yeah. Are you coming or not?"

Oz followed him in, watching his steps carefully in the gloom. There was no way of knowing if the floor was entirely level, but thankfully both boys had packed flashlights.Switching his on, he swept the area, looking for the telltale glint of metal. Ahead, Oscar sounded triumphant.

"Hey! Look, I found something!" The scythe he held up, however, was rust pitted and heavily corroded. Oz pulled a face.

"I'm sorry, Oscar, I do not believe that is rescuable without either a replacement blade, maybe the handle, too, or some sort of minor miracle."

"Can't you... you know? Magic it?" The scythe's wooden handle took that opportunity to start leaving flakes on Oscar's gloves and he pouted, seeing Oz's point.

"Magic cannot fix everything and, even if I were to use it on that, I doubt it would stand up to any serious usage. No, we need to keep looking. Maybe one of the other barns may be in better shape?" He glanced up at the roof, or more accurately the hole in it, looking doubtful.

"Yeah, maybe." Oscar left the barn, Oz in tow and went to look at the next one. At least the door to this one seemed more sturdy, surely a promising sign? It was also locked. Oscar looked discouraged but it was Oz's turn to raise an eyebrow. He also raised his cane and proceeded to open the door via the other route. The way the hinges creaked definitely made them both think this barn was certainly a better option than the last. Shining their torches upwards, they could find nothing wrong with the roof and though it smelled musty in there, at least it didn't smell damp. Definite improvements.

There was a sound in the corner and Oz went into a fighting stance. He relaxed it a few seconds later as what was probably a cat streaked past them, obviously startled by their entry. That made both of them chuckle a bit, though they might need to work out just how it got in, since the place had been locked up.

Moving along the walls, they could find plenty of tools. They were even still in good shape, though most of them were just hammers, screwdrivers, spanners, that sort of thing. Maybe, if they could find enough other items, they could build something? Again, though, that would depend on Oscar. Whose sudden excited yell ahead sounded rather like a very good sign.

Moving to join him, Oz watched as Oscar happily swung a short axe, unlike the scythe in the other barn it looked spotless and more than sound enough as a practice weapon. He wouldn't necessarily recommend using it to kill Grimm any time soon, but at least Oscar was happy with it.

"Do we wish to keep looking, or will that do for now?"

"It's perfect! Maybe a longer handle later, but... I have a weapon all my own now!"

"I wonder if we should inform your aunt as to this barn and the state of the other one? There are things here that she would probably have mentioned had she remembered them, I'm curious as to just how long this has been here?"

"Ages! The farm's old, been in the family for generations. I thought Aunt Em told you that? But yeah, it's full of places like this. There's a well and old farm buildings and all sorts of things scattered around. We can go look at some other stuff tomorrow, maybe? If you're my brother now, that makes this your home, too!"

Oz looked poleaxed at that statement. "Oscar, you... you even sound like you mean that."

"Of course I do! I've always wanted a brother!"

Oz was mostly quiet on the journey back, Oscar's words had given him a lot to think about. If he couldn't stop him from going with him and, he was beginning to suspect the futility of that, then how would he ever protect him, out on the road? There had been so many things, even in the barns, that were too high for him to reach. What if he was too small, now, to fight the Grimm properly?

What if this war was one he really could never win?

[ankles-be-bitten]

idk, i just feel like if your primary argument against transandrophobia/antitransmasculinity theory is that you think it's transmisogynistic you're not being intellectually honest. who does it hurt when trans men and mascs coin a term to describe the intersection of transphobia and sexism as it most frequently affects them? because it does hurt trans men when they're told that they're not entitled to speak on the discrimination they themselves face.

what I'm hearing from people who oppose the antitransmasculinity movement is that transmisogyny is when trans men talk about their problems 👍, but obviously that's not true. i know that's not true. you know that's not true. so then what is the issue? genuinely, enlighten me. you want trans men to shut up and listen? I'm listening.

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

I'm sorry but the irony of Nico calling Max unprofessional is sending me so bad like sir there's an entire garage full of people, who were literally in the trenches trying to survive the Brocedes fallout while just doing their jobs, who might have a few things to say about your (& Lewis') level of professionalism at that time 😭✋️

[raddestrose]

An assortment of MXTX memes for your troubles my dear friends

[satoruhour]

a/n: jjk 236 spoilers, mentions of suicide from reader’s side, no comfort, cry. around 1.4k. tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @saiki-enthusiast @arminsumi @shotorus @satohruu so yall can suffer w me

the first signs of grief manifests in you when there’s a bright light that signifies gojo’s disperse of cursed energy, the familiar hollow purple that obliterates half the buildings around the two strongest sorcerers — one from the heian and the other one from our times. surely, your lover wouldn’t do something as foolish as involving himself with the blast, but gojo satoru is always one to take risks.

when he took up the job of taking care of megumi and tsumiki at just eighteen years old and providing all the things they needed to fluorish. gojo is risky as he convinces a kid with a terrifying curse to make some friends and learn about cursed energy. he sometimes puts himself in danger when he takes up more missions he can shoulder just to show the higher-ups that he can kill them any time.

gojo satoru has the world of jujutsu in his hands; how his birth had changed the trajectory of the society, altered the balance of the world and now—

“satoru!” you call out once the smoke clears and he’s still there, intact, smiling a sick smile like the many times you’ve seen him done at megumi and after burning french toast. you brief a sigh of relief and the pounding of your heart calms down momentarily before sukuna emerges and he’s missing a hand and a leg and your heart pulls lower and lower seeing the kid you raised be such a ragdoll for sukuna’s entertainment. but there was always the hope to isolate the king of curses’ soul and save megumi somehow. shoko and you had discussed it, you know it to be true, it has to be true, until there’s a sharp noise that cuts through your ear drums.

it’s high-pitched, like a flash of light that shines in your eyes too abruptly and you have to cover them. but it blinds you as much as it deafens; an attack from god knows which end and you swear you hear the reaper’s scythe.

gojo thinks you look beautiful like this; hand on your cheek and head in your hand as you watch him and the melodic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board. you’re so concerned about him cutting his hand again that you’ve dragged your chair all the way into the kitchen to watch him closely, which was counterintuitive; the whole reason why he had bled in the first place was because he was looking at you so much.

he admires the way you curl into yourself on the beanbag in the apartment, a book on your lap on how to get to know your teenager better, hair falling over your eyes and the reading lamp not even helping that much in illuminating the words. gojo skims over your features and the way your chest breathes slowly, like everything good in the world. he hopes he’s able to get that with you in this life, for as long as he lives.

you feel it before you see it in the screens that the fight is broadcasted from — something is missing. a light has switched off, satoru has stolen the blanket at night and left you freezing again, seeing your favourite snack missing from the fridge. and you run. past the students you’ve raised, past the bright blinding screens and into the battlefield, past the debris and each crunch of cement under your feet brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes. the tokyo winter is cool, snow starting to slowly fall upon you and the saltiness on your face seem to crystallise and harden and you’re not even sure any more. there’s a tingling feeling in your feet, in your finger tips and a pull of your heart. you know where gojo is before you see him.

“s— satoru…” you mumble, eyes welling up with more tears when his bottom half stays standing, baggy pants stained with red, red and more red and you’ve never hated a colour like you do now. you hate it, you hate it, you hate it even when he’s proposed to you with a red velvet box and gotten you valentine’s day chocolates in that same darker red and there is just too much blood.

and then it’s like the hierarchy of grief doesn’t matter any more. all those articles you’ve read preparing yourself after gojo’s fated meeting with death at sixteen, and then after shibuya — you think you can’t handle any more of the collecting and patching up and crying and headaches and holding a finger up to your chest and hoping you’d kill yourself with your own technique. the only time you’d accept the absence of the bright blue on his face is when he was sleeping and his chest moved with even breaths, not like this.

not like this. 

“satoru—” your voice cracks and you cannot even see. tears and tears and mucus and the fresh crunch of snow under your feet as you step closer to his severed body.

“baby…” he mumbles, barely above a whisper, hand twitching and reaching out in the direction of your voice because this is infinitely worse than getting stabbed in the neck by toji fushiguro, perhaps a little worse than seeing your best friend of your high school life get manipulated by a cursed user. satoru wants to demote all of that and say that seeing you stumble to your knees in front of him while you hyperventilate and sob hurts the most. 

“d-don’t move, ’toru, we— we’re going to get you b-back, okay?” you’re playing with god now. “shoko!” the doctor stifles a sob at your cry, broken up by the feedback of the sound system. she knows you’re trying to defy god.

“i don’t think—” the light is slowly dying. the world’s light, the student’s light, your dawn and dusk. “m-my love, everything is…”

“satoru, please, you need to—!” they say the last sense to go is touch and hearing. you crouch to his face to see him react to your warmth, eyes moving an inch to where he thinks you were and puts all of his cursed energy into one hand just so he could hold your cheek. you, warm as always as the sun and everything good in the world, a new rush of warmth overtaking his hand when your tears flow over his battered, tired hands, the same hands that has drawn over his love time and time again over your body and you are a canvas made of gojo satoru’s endless, unconditional ardour.

“i-i’m…” it fades out, his voice box is almost gone and you wail again and the snow from below wets your knees. his name is all that leaves your lips and you think if you can’t play god, you can only beg, even if your religion is solely gojo satoru.

“no, no, no no nono, satoru, c’mon, baby, stop it!” you scream in his face, words all mushed together when you feel the breath of life leave his chest, the blues die out in his eyes, “i love you, i love you, darling, i love you—” your lover barely manages to muster a small smile and you scramble all over his chest, clutching at the tattered black t-shirt and his hand that is starting to go cold and he has the energy to mutter out a stupid remark like gojo satoru always does.

“i’m sorry i got y-your favourite outfit stained with red, princess…” satoru whispers and that breaks the dam fully. you sob and groan and cry and wail until your voice is hoarse and you cannot speak any more and gojo wants nothing but to full heal himself again just so he could stop your crying. perhaps hold your face in his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips and embrace you until you couldn’t breathe. perhaps even to tell you he loved you more than anything and everything; more than poems and that foolish line he just had to say at the end and kikufuku and waking up next to you.

but in what world will gojo satoru ever get repose and a normal life? you hope for every other universe to have him be a preschool teacher, or maybe a florist, or even a superstar. but not in this one, no.

the hand that caressed your cheek is replenished again with cursed energy.

satoru gives you three squeezes.

[bodega-catto]

They’re so yaoi coded

[erwinsarmrest]

alittle confused about the jjk fandom saying the kfc break up from hidden inventory was getos pov (shown in bright and vibrant colors) while the jjk0 kfc breakup was gojos pov (shown in shadows and darkness) because like. i thought we established that hidden inventory was all gojos dream. it was him dreaming about his youth, that’s why the flashbacks were colored bright and happy and then the rest of the season in the current timeline goes back to the original more muted color scheme. because he’s remembering his time in highschool fondly. so both versions of the kfc breakup are in gojos pov. if we need a reason for them being colored differently we could say that his dreams of geto and their youth have more color and happiness because in a dream you’re not conscious and thus can’t remember how the “dreams” pan out in the end while memories are tainted with the knowledge of what happens after. but they were both his point of view.

[mishy-mashy]

Theory: some High-Ends use the corpses of past OFA users

There aren't tons of High-Ends. They can't be mass-produced so easily, and there's only one that's blatantly female, literally named Woman and with a tall, defined figure

Maybe Woman's original identity is already confirmed, but... she's similar to Nana in build, isn't she?

It's hinted that All For One actually kept Nana's corpse. How, 20+ years later, could he give Tenko his grandmother's pristine hand? Is he just keeping their hands? Or their actual corpses?

Also, when looking at corpses to give multiple Quirks to, One For All users are the best for this. Having inherited One For All, their bodies had maintained multiple Quirks when they were alive, even if they couldn't use more than their natural Quirk and One For All's physical ability. And to their bodies, One For All doesn't count as just one Quirk; the natural one, and Yoichi, are already too much for a human. But Shinomori shows that it counts each previous user's Quirk, on top of Yoichi's and one's own natural one.

Their bodies adjusted to holding multiple Quirks, and when they were alive, they didn't become deformed or lose brain function. They were perfectly fine, and only had shortened lives—but that doesn't matter as corpses.

Nomus go brain dead when they have multiple Quirks. But the past users didn't, being completely fine, making them perfect for Nomu development.

High-Ends can think. They're all physically powerful, and One For All users make the best basis, even from leftover embers and physique. So why not use that great base to make the best outcome Nomus (High-Ends)?

[arttsuka]

Draw Banda (Bill Cipher possessing Wanda Maximoff (mcu, specifically the Multiverse of Madness 616 Wanda/Scarlet Witch not 838 Wanda)

And

Merman Deadpool and Human Wolverine

Based on the infamous blobfish

[kacievvbbbb]

Super silly but I’m picturing a scenario where Shanks can’t really read all that well (raised by pirates etc) but he still figures out Mihawk’s little hobby and then becomes Determined to Get Better so he can keep up with the smut. Benn is like oh finally, you’re actually putting some effort into this, good, and then immediately regrets everything when shanks tries to persuade him to use Mihawk’s books for his reading lessons

No not silly at all! That’s not a headcannon I have but I can definitely see how it’s so popular Shanks doesn’t not look like he was the “education” type when he was young so I can defiently see him not knowing how to read.

And I am obsessed with the idea that his main motivation for learning how to read is so he can keep up with Mihawk’s smut publishing. I love it so much! Like he had no interest in learning how to properly read he could get on fine and Benn was always there but the moment he finds out that Mihawk is publishing smut? About them? He has to get on that’s hit immediately. That’s his new favorite hobby he is constantly buying books his crew is soooo confused.

Benn who has previously offered and encouraged Shanks yo learn is initially ecstatic but then he sees just what shanks is so excited about reading and god these fucking freaky dorks (Mihawk & Shanks) need to stop dragging him into their fucking foreplay. He is also very exasperated by just how much he features in these books and very wary of Shanks’ idea look he can see forming. (He’s not opposed to joining in but he also knows that those two weirdos have never been direct about emotions a day in their lives and so are going to go about enticing him in the weirdest most exhibitionist way possible.)

He does like to see how slightly jealous and turned on Shanks gets when Mihawk’s reader is fucking different pirates tho.

[vulpinesaint]

Hi! I just went through your quizzes (gorgeous writing, by the way!) and I wonder if you have the results for all of them posted somewhere? I know both saints quizzes have a full results post and the garden one too, but I don't think I've found the others. I'm especially curious about the supervillain one :)

hiya!! thank you so much i'm so glad you liked them <3 as of right now i only have results up for the saints + garden quizzes, but i would be so happy to post more results for you! anytime i post results, they should be linked on the masterpost in my bio :) i think i will. only post the supervillain one for now. the other ones make me feel a little silly. but you are so welcome to the supervillain results <3

for those of you who have taken the supervillain quiz: here's how your story could have ended!

[ganondoodle]

.... back on my totk rewrite thoughts so, poll time (pls read before voting o3o )

no matter how cute tulins design is, i like teba more and he had at least a little bit more to fall back on from botw than tulin did, given how little time is spent on these characters (and the time that is is just ... so flat, its all so tasteless, no flavor) hes just as much, or little really, as the champions descendants were in botw .. if even, though this game should have been the time to go hard on narrative, sicne the world was established now would have been the time to dig into the story more

im considering making teba the 'sage' (no sages in my rewrite but for understandings sake) and possibly with a .. 'backpack' tulin, they are a team and work as one (doing proper character arcs is hard to do in a game world like botw, given how isolated each area is and how little everyone interacts, id focus more on having some active troubles and dangers- team getting seperated etc. to make it feel like theres actual stakes instead of a flat one scene character 'arc' and then some baby puzzles that i hesitate to even call that)

(i still havent found a workaround for the abilities yet, botws way of doing it was very well integrated and made sense with the story, i dont want to repeat that but also dont want to have the shitty totk way, - killing a character off in the present to have them aid you in spirit is interesting only if not applied to everyone bc then it gets all too samey again, something something items in a way--- regardless of how im gonna solve that issue, i like the idea of them working together just like you are actively traveling with zelda as your companion and it will work whether i give them actual abilities or not)

[sluckythewizard]

[PUT INTO PLACE, TIED DOWN AND ARRANGED, AND IS NEVER THE SAME, AGAIN.]<-listen to my favorite songs. VAMPIRES ARE WONDERFUL ARENT THEY. THE FLESH IS SO MUCH MORE DURABLE. SO MUCH STRETCHIER THAN HUMANS. THE STRESS DOESNT KILL A VAMPIRE THE SAME WAY IT DOES A HUMAN. YOU CAN TAKE THEM APART THREAD BY THREAD AND LEAVE THEM WIDE AWAKE WITHOUT WORRY OF THE BRAINMATTER SPOILING UNDER VINEGARY AGONY.

[13eyond13]

Please tell me about art and media you know of that accurately captures the weirdness of dream logic and atmosphere and emotions... books and movies and video games and art and comics and YouTube stuff, whatever you want... you know, where it only makes sense on an intuitive level and falls apart when you try to explain it...

[elizabethzoopzoop986]

I miss Mei so much you don’t understand :( bring her back AidaIro. Also Yako and Hakubo

I hate how the school mysteries (other than Hanako, Mitsuba and Akane) get there one arc where you really get to know them and care about them and then they just go away forever. GIVE THEM BACK PLS AIDAIRO LET THEM OUT OF THE CLOSET THEYVE DONE NOTHING WRONG

[revenantghost]

Me trying to keep up with all the Vashwood Big Bang fics like