#have i been in pain this entire time and didnt even know

[meanderfall]

not to sound dramatic, but my new bras came in, and they are the best thing to have happened to me in. months, probably. maybe even years.

[alligaytorswamp]

ermmm something happened to my hand and now it like feels uncomfy and 2 of my fingers don't work properly ahhahahaha (im panicking)

[hwanswerland]

can we stop putting celebrities on horses for aesthetic reasons when they can't ride for shit

[pizzapizzadickz]

I've been popping pills like they're candy lately. (Also known as I've been in pain a lot and my allergies are horrible bc of all the mold in my room).

[dead-believers]

i lied actually im perfectly fine. im completely normal

[schizononagesimus]

being in a family of other addicts is weird, i never really thought of it like that but us all being in town together for my graduation has just been like (ENABLES U) (ENABLES U) (ENABLES U)

[learningfromlosing]

I think she's happy to be back 🥺🤧

WE JUST FOUND THE KITTEN WE LOST THE DAY WE HAD TO MOVE OUT OF OUR HOME 6 DAYS AGO!!!!!!!!

[jago-xx]

The difference between Ivans dying “heartbeat” and Tills dying “heartbeat” is interesting—to me at least.

Ivan’s heartbeat is characterized by the beat of drums and is rather passionate and energetic. Its loud, urgent, and suspenseful. Much like the feelings hes held for Till for the majority of his time in The Garden. His yearning is deep and woven into him; the thought of Till is his morning joy and his nights peace. In almost everything we see of Ivan, he is either watching, talking, or helping Till. Though he seems calm and composed most of the time, his obsession runs deep. He enjoys being with Till …even if Till isn’t entirely aware of his presence. Even in Tills rejection, he remained devoted. Till was his everything. We can see this in one of Ivans interviews where hes asked, “Have you gotten everything youve ever wanted?” and he responds: “No, but i came very close once.” This must be in reference to when he and Till nearly escaped together under a meteor shower.

So its no wonder Ivan would feel this love—this obsession surging through him as he sacrificed himself for Till. Be felt love, sadness, and longing in last moments. His heart was thrumming in his chest, as if it was trying to rip itself from its cage of bones, if only to unite with Tills this once. His heartbeat banged and roared for Till in his last moments, and in his whole life, he’d never been more at peace.

Till, on the other hand, had a meek, innocent, melancholic xylophone for a “heartbeat”.

Unlike Ivan, Till was deeply wounded in heart and body. His entire life he was abused, used, and treated like trash. He didnt take it lying down, but even the fiercest people get tired of the constant pain. He had gotten used to touch that was hurtful, and to hard hearts. To him, hate and anger were the norm. Those emotions came easily to him, and became part of what drove him forward. He had told himself for so long that his existence was supposed to be pain. That this is just how it is. And Ivan often challenged this belief. We see Ivan help Till multiple times. We see his loving looks and curious stares. Till was not used to such…attention. It challenged his natural inclination to hate. Ivan, though weird and sometimes annoying, never looked or treated Till like he was a burden. Although his actions, such as when he stepped on his flower crown, knowing they were hidden cameras, annoyed and sometimes angered Till, Ivan never did any of it from ill intent. And even still, he received Till’s anger, because even that type of attention from Till was bliss.

Till wasnt used to this treatment, so he avoided acknowledging it. He didn’t know what to make of it. All he knew to do was fight and push on. Run away. He couldn’t come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, he loved Ivan. Maybe he liked the time Ivan would spend with him. Maybe he enjoyed his voice, and his touch, and even his weird humor.

Till didnt accept it until he had to watch Ivan die. Until he realized those kisses would be his first and last. He went into round 7 spiraling down a hole of regret and anguish. He did not want to die. He had just realized that love is in fact his to hold, that he doesn’t always have to fight. He had just realized that he had something to live for after all. He was weak in the heart and body. He yearned for the even a speck of innocence again, just to feel peace one last time. Mizi was a portal into that innocence, hence his flashback before his death. The girl he idolized was alive and he discovered his love for Ivan. He died when he had finally found reasons to live.

[scary-noodlesblog]

You and EJ have a daughter...

Trigger warnings: pregnancy, c-section, mentions of sex

Sorry this is reeeeaaaally long

AFAB Reader

Hes honestly probably the best dad out of them all

The entire pregnancy he was worried, hes a demon, or at least partially, honestly he had to consult Slender to make sure youd even survive

The faceless man reassured him that you should be fine

To be honest Jack knew you were pregnant before you knew, he could smell something off about you

He just didnt know what it was till you announced your pregnancy to him

You did it in such a cute way too 🥺 you bought a little black hoodie and a card that said "what is a dad" on the front. On the inside it said "you. You is a dad"

He threw his mask so fast and picked you up, spinning you in a hug. He was crying

He never thought he would see this day

The amount of research he does is absolutely insane

Jack has a primal instinct over you, protective, and dare i say sexual

We all know he has a breeding kink

He gets so horny even thinking about you being pregnant

Your pregnancy goes decently smooth, mild morning sickness, not really any mood swings

Until the 3rd trimester, that was hell, on both you and Jack

You were in a lot of pain. It was normal pain, hips, muscles, back, breasts, all achy.

Jack only got more nervous as the pregnancy progressed, not so much about your health anymore but more so for after the birth

Now unfortunately he isnt home when you go into labor

He was out getting food for himself, knowing he wouldnt want to leave you and the baby for a while, he even got a deep freezer for it

Thankfully Jack has a cell phone in case of emergencies, Jeff called him frantically

He rushed to the mansion so fast he almost forgot his duffle bag, by the time he got there you were in a hospital gown in the infirmary with Dr. Smiley

A device that tracks your contractions was on your belly, Dr. Smiley informed Jack you were 6 centimeters, not ready to push

Almost immediately after that your water broke, labor got more painful almost instantly, and Dr. Smiley put in an epidural and catheter, Jack holding you still while it happened

You and Jack waited patiently for it to be time. But it never came

It had been hours, you only made it to 7 centimeters, Dr. Smiley informed you both that you had gained an infection from your amniotic fluid, it had spread to the baby and that he needed to do an emergency c-section right that second

Jack feared the worst, that it was his fault, because the baby was half demon

Once you said yes, within minutes you were on an operating table, Jack was scrubbed up, along with Dr. Smiley and Nurse Ann

You were numb from the waist down, all you felt was tugging and pulling while Jack held your hand, his mask was off

Within minutes your daughter was born, she looked beautiful

Dr. Smiley handed her to Jack after the cord was cut and she was cleaned, who was crying again, he looked at her with the most love you've ever seen

You started to cry seeing her, her skin was (s/c) with a hint of her father's grey tone, she had a full head of Jack's hair, though unlike her father she did have eyes, and they were (e/c)

After you were sewn up, you were transferred back into a hospital bed, still a little numb

Jack had helped you scoot so he can sit next to you, holding your newborn baby girl

Let me know if you want a part 2! Also give this little girl a name in the comments <3

[artdcnaldson]

Can you do arts reaction to reader just not inviting him to her next "dance" because she thought he wasnt interested so she didnt say anything please?

Maybe he saw a picture on myspace or something

Rating: T

Warnings: None really, just angst and Art being heartbroken over losing his best friend

Summary: Spring 2008. Art wishes that he had thought to unfriend you on MySpace.

A/N: ok I’m ngl I saw specific words and ran. The words in question: “Art’s reaction” and “MySpace.” Unedited

MySpace was in its death throes. You had to have been the last active user by that point, happily posting collections of photos like it was your own personal scrapbook.

He didn’t even use it himself, not really. He had when he was sixteen— filled it with pictures of him and Patrick and the shitty music he’d liked. Lately, he’d been logging in just to check on you.

Not often. He wasn’t a creep, or anything. He just wondered, sometimes. He knew you had a boyfriend, or something— you posted cryptically about seeing someone plenty enough. Art just wanted to know who the asshole was— if he knew him, if he deserved you.

Most people had switched to Facebook— including Art. He knew Patrick had an account, but he didn’t feel like adding him, and apparently the sentiment was shared.

That night, he pulled up your MySpace page, decorated in the same pink and green shades as your dorm room. It was a normal routine— look at the music you were listening to, read your blog posts, look at your photos. Casually, of course. This time, though, he froze.

Because he did know the asshole you were with— not hidden behind cryptic posts, no longer shrouded in mystery. Clear as day, in photos you’d taken on your digital camera.

Patrick Zweig.

For once, the brunet was in a nice suit, with a bow tie and everything. The first picture was of him, flipping off the camera with a smile in the middle of a formal dining room. The next few were of both of you sitting on an empty tennis court, drinking champagne straight from the bottle, and sharing cigarettes.

Look who needed a date to a “boring, formal rich people thing” after months of me going to his “boring tennis things” <3

That was all you’d said about the pictures. Art swallowed, opening up the photos to take a closer look. You were wearing pale yellow silk, like moonlight. You posted a close up of you in the dress, of pretty silver jewelry against your skin, then a few scenery shots— flowers, a fountain, the putting green at night.

That was the country club he played at when he was 15 and stayed with Patrick for the summer, the type of place that it was best to be seen and not heard. He knew that Patrick’s family were wealthy before, but that summer had put things in an entirely new perspective.

Patrick hated shit like that— the pomp and circumstance. The Patrick who had been his friend wouldn’t have been caught dead at a… he squinted to read the signage in the background of a photo— Benefit for Children of… whatever, he couldn’t make it out but he knew it was stupid.

It wasn’t Patrick. He knew it wasn’t Patrick even if they hadn’t spoken for a year.

Sometimes he asked himself why that was. Tashi dropped out, transferred to a school closer to her family. Being at Stanford had been too painful, which he understood, but he missed her. They kept in contact, which was good, because he had a suspicion he’d die if she wasn’t somewhere in his orbit.

It wasn’t lost on Art that he’d chosen Tashi over Patrick. He didn’t regret choosing Tashi, but he might regret it more had it not been for that night.

He couldn’t prove that it had been Patrick in your room, but he had a feeling.

It had gnawed at him as he sat on the floor outside of your door, nursing a beer long after you and whoever it was had finished and fallen asleep. He caught the tail end of it, even over the blaring music— the slamming headboard, the pretty noises you made when you got close.

He’d been sexiled enough by Patrick before to feel a twinge of familiarity in the muffled groans on the other side of the door. But it made no sense. Or it made perfect sense, and Patrick rarely did and that’s what made it so hard.

Art had chosen Tashi, Patrick chose what was Art’s. Tied everything in a nice little bow.

He’d been missing him. Of course he missed Patrick, in the same way he craved a cigarette after quitting. He knew it was bad for him, he wanted it anyway.

Or maybe Patrick wasn’t bad for him, and he was the one who cleaved him out of his life with a rough, messy slash. He loved Patrick, but he needed him as much as he needed a burst appendix that was poisoning him from the inside out.

If he thought about Patrick Zweig for too long, he’d get a sick feeling in his stomach, all hollow and achey. He itched to call him, to ask how he’d been, and how the tour had been, and if he was doing okay.

He let the phone ring once, twice before he hung up, feeling like an idiot. There was a thick, strangling feeling in his chest like he might cry, which was stupid.

It was all so stupid, how much he missed Patrick. Patrick, who had you, and a tennis career, and his rich parents who he suddenly wanted to be around. Maybe Patrick was better off, but it didn’t make him feel much better.

His phone buzzed on his bedside table, ripping him violently from his self pity. 

Patrick [1:26 AM]: was that an accident?

Art didn’t respond, even though he wanted to. It was probably for the best.

Sorry I made this mostly about Art missing Patrick instead of Art missing R but … alas it felt true. If I think too hard about the twelve years they spent apart I feel insane.

[tomomiisasleep]

notes on Harryanthe which I am crazy about, in HtN

this dumb little interaction just stuck with me. I mean they're almost always high-strung in the detailed plot, like in almost every one of the Ianthe-centered scenes one of them is in some kind of pain

but I know they have chill moments. mundane moments. petty arguments, like the one in the post scrips of the letter. And I so badly want to read those!!

anyways. I'm gonna start collecting scraps here.

you might have given Ianthe Tridentarius the pleasure of opening the note labelled Upon the death of Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Your only hope for that note was that it contained a single sentence along the lines of, Get what joy you can from my corpse, you devious bitch, but it was written by a previous self and you could not risk a guess.

Harrow: what if I didnt hate her and that makes me wanna have a lobotomy yeah that makes sense

Once, vilely, from Ianthe; she had ensconced you in fat and rolled you down the hallway out of danger, and still laughed whenever she thought about it.

ok this is just Ianthe being a little pest, but it also means that she talks about this and laughs in Harrow's face, which makes her a little bitch, but also like it means they often chat and Ianthe would be like: Yeah today I tried the theorem on apples again, but I tweaked it by directing the flow of thalergy from- hey Harry do u remember the time I saved your life hahahahahaha

The mockery you endured for needing her proximity was exquisitely painful, but humiliation was steadily becoming your existence whole and entire.

I want to know what exactly this mockery entails

It had been very nicely matched to the original until she had ceased using it altogether, and the difference was more pronounced each day. Unconscious of your critical eye, she scratched fretfully at the line until red hives appeared.

Ianthe squirming under Harrow's gaze for once

She was in a filthy mood, if she was wearing that thing, with her arm exposed.

Harrow has been keeping tabs on the state of her arm problem ever since she first woke up on the Erobos. Same as how Ianthe has been keeping tabs on the results of her lobotomy.

she said, blue eyed, those oily little freckles glittering almost pinkly above the dress. They reflected the red rims of her eyelids. You thought that she had been crying.

yeah stare at her eyelids Harrow, and sniff her discreetly all the time, sweat musk vetiver am I right (also have I expressed how crazy it drives me that she wears masculine perfume??????????? no well IT'S SO *faints*

You got better autopsies of her encounters with Beasts than you did from your own, as Augustine was wont to explain significantly more to her than either he or Mercy did to you.

Ugh why why why in this whole book I have not seen them talk shop with each other even once??? Except Harrow showing off after making the arm. Harrow has discussions with Pal all the time in GtN. clearly she trades notes on necromancy with Ianthe frequently. but no, gloss over Ianthe's intellect and just write her freak(fond) moments

You had once been fool enough to recommend that Ianthe take them down, at which point she had rustled up another from the bathroom and hung it in pride of place above an overpainted dresser.

love her

“Oh, heaps,” said Ianthe, who appeared not to have taken offence at your rejection. It was so impossible to tell, with Ianthe. “I made it. It’s vile.”

Maybe she really doesn't care about the rejection or even likes it, but "so impossible to tell" kinda hints that, well she might be hurt,maybe, there just isn't any proof

It was not a connection formed of any mutual admiration; if anything, the more you saw of Ianthe the less likely you were to mistake her for likeable. She made herself like an overdecorated cake: covered so thickly in icing and fondants and gums that it would take serious excavation to find any bread. As a necromancer she was a genius, though you thought she relied too much on shortcuts and circumventions. She had an exceptionally fine mind. She was not afraid of rigour.

If Harrow doesn't have the hots for her at least I do.

Honestly on my first read I took stuff like "not likeable" and "“Tell me to stop breathing,” she said. (“I have, on multiple occasions,” you said.)" at face value and actually thought Harrow genuinely hates her and is forced to interact with her because there's no one else. Which is true. But she's also very attracted to her and I kinda overlooked it at because I thought those feelings were mutually exclusive. And they're not. which I'm obsessed with.

Or she won't think Ianthe's beautiful and note details about how she dresses all the time.

Seriously Harrow's special fixation on "how Ianthe's clothes make her look" is hard to ignore.

for example:

The mother-of-pearl made Ianthe’s hair a lurid yellow and threw up all the mustard tints of her skin; her face was blotchy, and her eyes were sleepless pits. She looked like shit.

The skirts and waists were all beautifully cut for someone of a different height and body type than Ianthe possessed. They were tight where they should have been loose and loose where they should have been tight. They looked like her burial clothes, and she looked as though she had emerged fifty years after that burial.

she answered after a long, scuffling minute, with sleep in her eyes and her hair in dilute whey tangles over her neck and shoulders, wearing a bewildering short garment of violet chiffon.

The back was open, and you could see the fine dents of her spine—her bleached skin bluer and sweeter against the pallid gossamer—and the twin blades of her shoulder blades looked strangely nude and vulnerable to you.

Ianthe was training in her nightgown—a grisly floor-length concoction of pale golden lace that made her long, limber body look like a green-veined mummy

a lone wax figure in pale purple chiffon, tall and colourless—except in the greasy metal of her bone arm, which the lights rendered all the colours of the rainbow.

Ianthe rose soundlessly to her feet, and the long skirts of her nightgown—a brilliant ruffled canary-yellow silk that made her look like a formal lemon—rustled restively around her calves.

Note that Harrow focuses on Ianthe's clothes for how they shape Ianthe's appearance. in contrast:

she ignored your sister, whose pallid eyebrows had shot up so fast and so far that they were in danger of breaking the atmosphere. Mercymorn wore a long slip of peach-coloured silk, and her white Canaanite robe was tucked over her forearms and had slipped entirely off her slender, aggrieved shoulders. She had scraped her hair into a merciless and shining coil at the back of her head, and she had no eyes for either of you.

Obviously Mercy is SUPER HOT here, if Ianthe's reaction means anything. But Harrow only describes her clothing and not how she looks. Same with Augustine's party outfit.

With Ianthe, it's always: she's wearing ..., which makes her look gross. And I did not understand at first but now I know and feel stongly that Harrow is totally into her gross-hotness. well at least I am. the grosser she's described the hotter she is.

[mysteriousl0ser]

FUCK IT, TADC EP 2 THOUGHTS MAJOR SPOILERS!! BE WARNED

LETS GO!! Pomni is still pretty screwed up over her first day here, I mean this is all fresh and new to her so like DUH. everyone else here is somewhat or entirely adjusted and kind of just cope with the fact that theyre here I dont think pomni has really processed how long theyve been here?? In the pilot she seems SO bothered by how okay they are with this and willingness to do caines fuckass adventures

i dont blame her, anywho pomni in her nightmare-induced state starts to abstract, she had to face an abstraction early on in her days here which like have to be pretty truamatizing (duh) and cried out to ANYONE, but where she called for help literally no one helped her “oh well” they though

Pomni doesn't feel like anybody else cares, shes the only one whos still going through an adjustment phase and freaking the fuck out while everyone else is just going along with the adventure, something she still thinks is kinda pointless and doesn't get why anybody would waste their time here doing when they COULD be looking for a way out, why is she the only one who seems to still be distressed here? To feel lost? At least from her perspective, it seems that way. Unfortunately, these people have already been here for a while.

Pomski then meets someone whos just like her, their whole reality was shattered and they don't belong anywhere, mirroring how pomni feels at the moment, even if she still has some sort of grip now vs when she first got here

And she finds comfort in that!!! Why is it that this NPC feels more real than the ACTUAL REAL PEOPLE trapped here with her??? Whatever the reason, its something to hold onto. Something to LATCH onto. Hes Real. or at least he feels real, and maybe she feels like she belongs with him because at least he knows the feeling, something shes not really felt w anyone else before

This comfort and solidarity she has with gumigoo is shortlived however as she gets brutally reminded that he wasnt real. The anchor she had vanished and there's quite literally nobody to catch her fall.

And i feel like ragatha trying to comfort her the way she did didnt help AT ALL. it was kinda a sore reminder that gumigoo is easily replaceable, and GOD thats so frustrating?? This thing felt so real to her and nobody seems to care that he just vanished!! If they could be so apathetic to this whos to say they wont just treat her demise just the same as she thought they would???

But then something important happens. They have a funeral for Kaufmo, someone whos been established to be their friend way before Pomni ever came here. And maybe it didn't ever settle in before that kaufmo was a real person! Literally!! And he was real to them. Just like gumigoo though less directly they relate to being in pain and kind of in shock of losing someone who they cared about and who was a real person to care about to them AND LIKE YOU CAN SEE WHERE IT CLICKS IN HER FACIAL EXPRESSION HERE, THE CHANGE IN HER EYES AND THE WAY HER EXPRESSION LOSENS AT THIS IDK IT DRIVES ME CRAZY GOD THE ANIMATORS WENT OFF W THIS EP VS THE PILOT IM IM IM

anyways anyways They have their funeral service, theres quite literally no reason for anyone to just lie and go along with whatever bs caines got going on, this also quite literally has nothing to do with him. This is kind of their own little way of keeping some sort of human traditions and respect for the human persons that get stuck here because they care. HELL you can even see pomni feel a little guilty here when ragatha says that his funeral was disrupted cause she arrived here

anyways thats exactly it!! They fucking car!! This whole time pomni thought that they just didnt care and were kind of apathetic or downright patronizing her over all this and mocking her or whatnot, like in her dream sequence. But no, they all talk respectively about their memories and experiences with kaufmo, the things they shared together and the feelings they had. EVERYBODY was grieving. Ragatha who always tried to put on some cheerful and kind of irritating (to pomni at least) everythings fine facade (which also kind of feels less real to her at least i think so but i don't think she figured it to be a coping mechanism) to just straight up start crying and breaking up a bit, even mentioning how this does not ever get any easier and how shes had to deal with this plenty of times before.

Zooble the usually apathetic and kind of asshole who keeps to themselves and gives off i don't care energy and probably gave off the impression that they didn't care about anyone here and just treated the people stuck here as an unfortunate fact and nothing more actually being vulnerable and probably doing the same as ragatha talking about their memories with kaufmo

Kingers ALWAYS kind of zoned out or not really taking anything seriously and just being there completely lost in space, but here hes grounded, and even earlier in the episode when ragatha needed it most he remained grounded then too (tho pomni didnt see that i just wanted to mention it). Just like the others he grieves and lives in the unfortunate moment

more of the kinger being grounded when the thought counts

GANGLE- dude even if its for just a moment she smiles here despite having her tragedy mask and like her whole shtick is being of whatever mood or emotion her mask is allegedly wether she wants to or not, but no here shes more than just that, she smiles for a bit when reminiscing her moments with kaufmo only to go back into crying, and man shes always crying with her tragedy mask but its beyond as far as anyone can tell wether or not its really her or just because of her mask, but here? its really her, no matter what the mask on her face shows!! shes genuinely smiling despite having her comedy mask and shes genuinely crying which is very blatantly obviously different to the usual mask cry etc etc

heres something about all this, it hits pomni in a way. These people ARE real, and they care. They care about her, they have nothing else but eachother and THATS something to latch onto. Thats something to hold her down, even if they just met pomni

SPEAKING OF JUST MEETING POMNI she literally expressed how she didnt wanna just LEAVE gumigoo there by himself because she believes no one should just be left there

the circus peeps just met pomni and just like how she felt a real connection to gumigoo in this digital hell she feels a sort of connection with these people too. Theyre gonna have her back all the same, maybe she wont feel so out of place and alone. BONUS THING!! The literal only times she genuinely smiles is when she feels this real connection to what feels real to her and has a genuine and sincere moment with these people whether it be an npc or a trapped member. Idk it just means something to me how significant both these moments are tipped off with a genuine smile a REAL SMIE!! (id add pictures but tumblr has a 30 image limit) OH ALSO BONUS BONUS THING THE DIFFERENCE IN OUTRO MUSIC IS SO IS SO ITS SO the outro song for the pilot kinda feels so ethereal and out of the moment at least to me it kinda feels like it you're slipping through the cracks and just, existing within yourself as the rest of the world around you kind of shatters into glass or melts into water or something i dont think ANY of that made any sense but its loud and its blaring and its so out of reach in a way, mad disassociation vibes but the outro song for the 2nd ep is a lot quieter yet its right there, at first it starts really small, lonely even. trapped by yourself but as the music gets louder and more instruments join in on the song it kind of has a comforting feel? bittersweet? even? its grounding ina way which is much different from how the first one felt at least to me lmao and the comforting feel kinda only emphasizes what I was talking about earlier- the comfort in having that anchor of reality with having a real moment with these people and making that connection yk? and like as i was saying at first the song starts off with just one instrument, at the start of the episode pomni feels utter alone and out of place even if these people here with here are stuck in the same situation as her, together alone. but as the other instruments join. in it kinda uplifts the song a bit, its not one sole instrument anymore like how in the end pomni feels that connection with everyone else, not so alone anymore idk jackshit about music theory so this is entirely a feelies talk instead of like- music lore? so don't take anything i say as like- idk some professional speak im just a nerd nerding about silly digital fixations ANYWAYS THATS ALL FOR NOW I AVE MORE TO SAY BUT THIS IS LONG ENOUGH LOL if you actually read all the way down this far thank you for listening!!! i really really appreciate it :]

[kinzhae]

Hi hiiii! Okay so... I'm not quite sure if you accept like request and all but i enjoyed your vlog so much cause been craving for Gojo angst that hurts my heart and i love it 😭😭

And i have this idea... You know Toga Himiko right? So like i have this idea in mind where Gojo neglected the reader, like the bully fic you made? And so, in the end Gojo was like dyin (In his teens where he still didn't know RCT). Reader having the same power as Toga Himiko so yeah you know what happens next.

That episode ached my heart so much that i cried and i kinda wanna see it in Gojo x reader part. You don't have to make it just sayin my idea and all 😅

Omgg hello, you are actually the first person who requested to write something so ofc I will do it. I didnt continue watching MHA after season 2 so I might not capture Toga Himiko's quirk that well </3 but I still tried and hoping you will like it.

Note: it ended with a slight angst.

Past Wound That Will Never Change

The world had always been cruel to those who were different, and you learned that lesson early. Your cursed technique was rare, one that made people uneasy. By consuming the blood of others, you could take on their appearance and, to a degree, their abilities. It was powerful, yes, but it was also isolating. People whispered behind your back, called you a parasite, and avoided you like a curse waiting to manifest.

Gojo Satoru, of course, had been the worst of them all.

He wasn’t just cruel; he was relentless. With his unmatched abilities and natural charisma, he had no reason to think twice about how his words or actions might hurt you. To him, you were a joke, a walking anomaly he could poke fun at when life at Jujutsu High grew dull.

“You ever think about how creepy you are?” he’d say, his friends laughing along. “Like, do you just look at someone and think, ‘Wow, I wanna drink their blood’? That’s disgusting, man.”

The words stung every time. You tried to fight back, to pretend his insults didn’t matter, but he had a way of cutting deeper than anyone else. The more you tried to stand your ground, the more he mocked you.

“You’re not even a real sorcerer,” he said once, his voice dripping with disdain. “You just leech off of everyone else. What’s the point of keeping you around?”

No one defended you. Geto sometimes gave you a pitying glance, but even he didn’t dare go against Gojo. They were close friends after all. You were utterly alone, and every day felt like a battle you were losing.

It all came to a head during a mission gone wrong. You’d been sent out with Gojo and another student to exorcise a particularly nasty curse. Things had been going well until Gojo, confident as ever, underestimated the enemy. The curse turned its attention on you, nearly killing you in the process. You barely managed to survive, but when the dust settled, Gojo shrugged it off like it was nothing.

“You’re fine,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Stop being so dramatic.”

That was the moment something inside you broke. That night, you packed your things and left Jujutsu High without a word. If they thought you were a parasite, then so be it. You would survive on your own terms, far away from their judgmental eyes.

---

Years passed, and you became someone entirely different. The pain of your past hardened into a cold resolve. You used your cursed technique without restraint, earning a reputation as a rogue sorcerer. People feared you, and for the first time in your life, you felt powerful. You no longer cared about proving yourself to anyone. You lived by your own rules, taking what you needed and leaving destruction in your wake.

But fate had a twisted sense of humor.

You found him in the ruins of a cursed battlefield, slumped against a crumbling wall, his once-pristine uniform soaked with blood. Gojo Satoru, the untouchable, was dying.

He looked up at you with bleary eyes, his usual confidence replaced by something fragile.

“Figures,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “Of all people… it had to be you.”

You stared at him, your emotions a tangled mess of anger, bitterness, and something you didn’t want to name. He looked so different now—vulnerable in a way you’d never imagined. For a brief moment, you considered leaving him there. It would be poetic, wouldn’t it? Letting him die alone, just like he’d left you to fend for yourself all those years ago.

But you couldn’t do it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said coldly, kneeling beside him. “I’m not doing this for you.

He didn’t respond, too weak to argue. His blood pooled around him, staining the ground a deep crimson. You bit into your hand, drawing your own blood, and then leaned down to press your lips to his wound. The metallic taste filled your mouth as your cursed technique activated, his power flooding into you.

It was overwhelming. For a brief moment, you were the strongest, the infinite possibilities of his Limitless technique unfurling in your mind. You used it to heal his wounds, channeling his power with a precision that surprised even you. When it was done, you pulled away, wiping your mouth as you staggered to your feet.

Gojo sat up slowly, testing his limbs. He looked at you, his expression unreadable.

“You saved me,” he said quietly.

“Don’t read into it,” you snapped. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

He frowned, guilt flickering across his face. “Why? After everything I—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice sharp. “You don’t get to apologize. Not after what you did.”

He fell silent, his usual arrogance nowhere to be found. For once, he looked small, almost fragile.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was a fool back then. I didn’t—”

“Stop,” you said, your tone icy. “I don’t want your apology. I don’t need it. Just live with it, Gojo. Live with what you did.”

You turned and walked away, leaving him sitting there, his words hanging in the air. He didn’t try to stop you. He didn’t call after you. He simply watched as you disappeared into the distance, the weight of his guilt settling over him like a shroud.

---

Gojo recovered, but the encounter haunted him. He searched for you, hoping for a chance to make amends, but you were always one step ahead, always out of reach. The guilt of what he had done to you lingered, a constant reminder of his failures. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t fix what he had broken.

You, on the other hand, continued to live on your own terms. Saving him hadn’t changed anything. It hadn’t softened the bitterness in your heart or erased the scars he left behind. You didn’t forgive him, and you didn’t need to.

In the end, the past was a wound neither of you could heal. He was left to carry the weight of his guilt, while you carried the scars of his cruelty.

[lookingforhappy]

TUA wasn't "always meant to end like this" nor did it build up to a tragic everybody dies ending in any way

sorry this is long and rambly but im noticing a lot of people coming out of the woodworks saying that the ending wasnt even bad actually and i just.. its not a redeemable ending to me and yes it does ruin the rest of the show for me and i wish i had the strength to make it not so but im stuck rn.. anyway:

i don't think i can forgive the ending, more than anything that happened in the final season

they had interesting character points, in an interesting setting.

and yeah they didnt tie up anything, and several people were out of character this season but thats nothing new in this fandom

eudora was forgotten, diego and luthers personalities didnt develop they were altered to be more palatable for the audience, grace and pogo became cameo characters instead of finishing their arcs or development in a meaningful way, reginalds plan has made less and less sense as the seasons go on, the commission was entirely changed from its set up in s1 and then forgotten.

thats all forgivable as long as the season is self contained and satisfys the tone and story.

s4 did none of these things - its not self contained as it leaves jennifer and abigail severely underexplained, and then flips the tone and message of the entire series on its head.

people have already noted that the theme of the show is that recovery from abuse haunts you into adulthood but with love and hard work and perserverance you can overcome it. the apocalypse has always been a metaphor for the cycle of abuse and how it continues to harm people after its been done, and how allowing it to dictate your life will end up in it imploding in your face etc.

but theres also just the general tone of the show.

the final season tries to make out that the siblings are themselves responsible for the apocalypses and only their death can prevent more apocalypses (twisting the meaning to be that of "if you have trauma then you should kill yourself" which like.. clearly bad, no explanation needed)

but to pull through on this ending the previous seasons need to have ended in tragedy too, or hinted towards it tonally. they never do.

the obvious way to do this would be to write each season ending/apocalypse to be sad/tragic. have the focus be on the people dying horribly in pain, show the remorse of the siblings, punish them by making it personal, show that they killed everyone and they know it.

the only season that even slightly does this is s1 as patch is killed because of diego, pogo and grace are killed because of luther and viktor, and the rest of the supporting cast is killed due to viktor.

but even season 1 isnt framed as a tragedy or a story leading up tot a tragedy.

its a story of hope. the siblings arent upset by the apocalypse because they can survive and prevent it and theres hope for the future and more specifically for THEIR future. nothing else remains from this timeline other than them because the whole show is centred as their recovery story. their hope.

if this was ever going to be presented as a hopeless tragedy then we needed to see characters like claire killed brutally. we needed to actually see Grace's lifeless body. we needed to see the consequences and see that nothing they did was fixing anything by having these consequences follow them and not just in a "this happened and im sad" but in everyone around them and them becoming worse as time goes by.

if they wanted the whole "we cant exist" ending to work then we needed to frame s1 and all subsequent seasons to actually show that it was their actions that caused the apocalypses.

viktor causes the first apocalypse because of reginald's abuse.

the US government causes the second apocalypse because they tortured an innocent to the brink of death and then got upset and aggressive when that had consequences (viktors powers overspilling and destroying the fbi building). like sorry that apocalypse was never viktors fault - its like false confession under torture, it doesnt count as real because he only did it to make torture stop.

the 3rd apocalypse is caused by Harlan accidentally killing their mothers, which again is not even his fault. he didnt want to kill them he just lost control and he had no idea that it would end the world (logically it shouldnt because this apocalypse defies the laws of time that they themselves established for the show).

the final apocalypse isnt even caused by them its caused by abigail and reginald. as are, technically, all of the apocalypses as abigail created the marigold and reginald released it and created the broken timeline by allowing it to travel with him to the umbrellas world.

in s2 the apocalypse has no consequences because they prevent it. ray and sissy and harlan get to live. klaus' cult memeber get to live. they even punctuate this ending by showing that theyre moving on and progressing in their healing because ben is finally allowed to move on with his afterlife, and he is no longer kept there, stalling their recovery from his death. even five's integration into the family again in s1 showed growth and recovery and HOPE.

in s3 the world is saved, and luther is brought back to life and five and diegos limbs are returned. everyone who was erased/died like lilas family and reginald are brought back to life because there is HOPE.

if they wanted to sell a tragedy and sell it well then we needed to see consequences. allison should have died in s1. five should have given up and returned to the commission in s2. luther should have stayed dead in s3. their families should have died and caused them pain.

nothing about this ending followed through on the theme of hope.

there are ways to do it. and its been done well.

romeo and juliet works because they are remembered. star wars prequels are loved because its a doomed from the beginning story that ends with hope in the form of luke saving his fathers soul and returning the jedi to their true state - protectors and peace keepers. frodo and bilbo return from their journeys ill and grieving and forever changed, and they and the magic beings of middle earth have to pass on before their time because of the harm of their stories. macbeth dies in the end because his story was one of a hero becoming a villain.

theres so many good examples of tragic endings but s4 wasnt one of them.

[lazarusrisingx]

Return to sender

yan!sylusx reader

tw: stalking, surveillance, fem!mc, not the MC in LADS, yandere activites but really tame.

some word vomit before i have to go to a work meeting!

the sylus brain rot is so real rn.

———————————————

He had stayed up again.

sylus was usually awake throughout the night. He didnt enjoy the sun because of its effects on his evol, so he was primarily nocturnal. Even then, he was usually back to sleep before the sun came back up.

But not tonight.

The room around him held very little light. aside from the computer monitors that lit up his face, and a few shafts of light that peeked through his blackout curtains.

Sylus sat at his desk. A deep chestnut brown color with black metal legs and handles on the drawers. A crimson coaster held a glass of half drank wine, and two bottles sat opened beside him, both empty.

He stared intently at the screen, his eyes could practically burn a hole in the thin glass display. One leg was tossed over the other as he leaned back in his chair.

She had been on his mind again.

At first it was nothing but curiosity. A silly linkon civillian he had met one night. She had been strolling around staring at her phone when a wanderer appeared.

It had destroyed a small food stand. Night dwellers went scattering, screaming in fright as the monster began attempting to pick people off, one by one.

Until it came to her.

She fell onto the pavement as it pounced on her, eyes beginning to glow a beautiful deep purple. one hand held up to stop the beast.

And not a tremble or stutter came out as she began to talk to it. Her voice slinked into Sylus’ head like a melody he couldnt quite understand.

The entire world stood still as that melody played.

“Stop!” She had commanded.

And the beast listened.

Sylus had watched in shock as the young women extracted herself from its grasp. Her body trembling and face ashen, citizens looked on in awe as she stood up, only a few scrapes on her elbows and the palms of her hands. The beast was frozen in place, gaping maw still ready to attack.

“Sit down.” She said.

That melody in Sylus’s head grew louder. pulling him in. The words repeated over and over like an echo, forcing its way into his bones, making his legs want to bend. A few people around her sat painfully hard on the concrete, staring, waiting for the next command.

The beast let out a wail, as it bent its hind legs and sat on the ground.

The young women never broke her concentration on the creature. and the longer Sylus stood the louder her voice scraped and shredded at his brain. Willing him to sit, pressure built in his ears, his breath held, he couldnt look away.

The sound of a car skidding to a hault was faintly heard in the eerily quiet environment. Sylus didnt even notice the Hunters who sorang into action, not until one of them grabbed the young women and yanked her away from the wanderer as gun shots rang out.

The women was soon to faint. Her lips dry and cracked, her brows knitted together as if she was in pain, and the glow of her purple eyes was still visible under her closed eyelids.

This was the first time he saw her. The first time he had ever seen someone with an evol like this.

His interest in her began as something purely buisness like. It was clear the young women had control over not just wanderers, but normal citizens.

Sylus didnt know the extent of her abilities. From the looks of it, her primary control mustve been wanderers. If he could harness that, give her money and convince her to help him take out high level wanderers for their protocores, the money to be made was enough to make him salivate.

But now, now, he sat at his desk. His eyes locked onto the monitor in front of him, watching the sleeping girl toss and turn.

Something about her was… alluring. It was strange. Sylus wasnt someone so easily distracted, but he couldnt get the image of her out of his head. he couldnt get her voice to leave him alone. those few words she had said rang in his ears day in and day out. Entire meetings had gone by where he couldnt pay attention because this silly civilian stayed stuck in his brain.

He hated it. At the same time he wanted to see her. Not from a distance like this. He needed to talk to her. To interact. he needed to hear that voice again. Was it curiosity? no. this felt like something deeper.

Sylus looked away from his monitor, watching the clock tick by on his wall. he finished off the small amount of wine he had left, and rubbed his eyes. In all these years that he had been alive, he had never felt so… captivated. It was if she still held something over him.

Maybe she did. Maybe, the reason he couldnt stop thinking about her, the reason he had to hold himself back from going to her home just to be in her presence, was because her evol still lingered on him.

atleast, thats what he told himself.

He glanced back at the computer screen, barrowing his eyes a bit as he watched the women sit up. Her knees were brought to her chest as she hung her head, shoulders trembling.

what had happened?

Sylus’s heart skipped a beat. He had hardly looked away for a moment could she have truly gotten hurt in that time? Should he go save her?

Sylus savored that thought in his mind. He could see it now. Her trembling form pressed against him, his arms encircling her, holding her tightly to him. She would look at him like a hero.

For once he could be the good guy. The savior.

Movement on the screen drew Sylus back to reality. She had gotten up. feeling around on her dresser for her phone. the screen lit up her face, but the cameras angle couldnt capture her expression. The women put her phone to her ear, seemingly speaking to someone. Her shoulders relaxed as she slowly sat down on her bed, face tilting up just enough for Sylus to catch a glimpse of a smile.

How… Interesting.

His heart twisted in a foul way. His mind swam with questions. Who was on the other end of that phone? What was she saying to them? What did she sound like?

Was he.. jealous?

His eye twitched with annoyance. A new mission for kieran and Luke formed in his mind. Take her phone, put a bug on it, and let him have access to whoever was making her smile with such ease.

He needed to know more about her before he could finally get himself to speak to her in person. Sylus needed a plan to insert himself into her life.

Purely for buisness reasons.

With a soft click, Sylus shut the computer off. It was getting late, and he was getting tired.

He closed his eyes and leaned back. those purple glowing eyes burned into his memory.

Soon. He couldnt take much more of this.. incessant pestering. She had to know that she was on his mind. She had to have something to do with why he felt how he did. Maybe this was the after effects of her evol.

Or maybe he was actually going insane.

Sylus stood up, pushing his chair in and made his way over to his bedroom. He pulled back rhe covers, and pulled off his shirt before climbing inside of it. tomorrow night he would have her phone bugged. and after that, once he had enoigh information, he woukd pounce.

there would be no escaping him. Even if he had to tie her in his basement and force her to use her evol, he would get whatever he wanted from her

[ganondoodle]

actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road

it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too

i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats

i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain

cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo

(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)