#i was ready to MOURN

[cmhcny]

me waking up in cold sweat at 8am to check if popia is alive like

[neymiiie]

I just want to see him again.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I want it back / I drag its dead weight forward.

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Sunday doodles

[wanderingibon]

first draft / initial concept for my rook! (he/they), debating on a name still but I know for sure that they're a mournwatcher, mage, 30 or so, and have this aloof / intimidating aura which keeps others from approaching them- when in fact he's just awkward doesn't know how to hold conversations with others

[versatancore]

the way they didn't publish the video is so rude tbh..

[slothquisitor]

Trust Exercises

Summary: Lucanis and Rook return to Treviso to plan a funeral. Eventual Lucanis/Rook, 4.5k.

Also on AO3.

_____________________________________________________________

The Lighthouse isn’t small, but there are only so many places to hide. And when someone is avoiding her, it’s impossible for Camina not to know it. Ever since their last trip to Minrathous, Lucanis has subtly found other places to be when she’s around. So she’s more than a little surprised when he approaches her one morning with a request. 

Could she go with him to Treviso to plan his grandmother’s funeral? He tells her he’d appreciate the backup if Spite makes problems. She would have gone anyway, but there’s something about that trust, even if grudgingly given because of what she’d seen in Minrathous, that makes her want to say yes even more. 

He’s so careful around all of them. In fairness, they’re all careful with each other. There’s still some tension between her and Harding that she can’t quite figure out, but can’t seem to bring herself to ask about. At least now, Varric is mobile so she doesn’t feel like she has to wonder if anyone but her is taking care of him or visiting the infirmary. Still, he keeps to himself. 

She suspects his absence is two-pronged: he’s feeling responsible for the situation they’re currently in and he’s trying not to undermine her new leadership. She’s just hoping that now he’s doing better, Harding might spend some more time out of her room. For now, it seems everyone is content not to talk about it. Which is fine because Camina feels spread a little thin anyway. She’s looking forward to a night in Treviso, especially if it involves funeral planning.

As always, Treviso is beautiful. She’d never been to Antiva before, but there’s something about the city, even scarred as it is with Antaam and barricades that is special. 

And it’s clear that Lucanis loves it. 

She has no idea what he was like before the Ossuary, but every time she returns to Treviso with him she feels like she sees a bit more of the person he might have been. Like returning home is giving him back some of what imprisonment took. She just wishes that they weren’t coming back to the reminder of another loss. 

She also wishes that they could walk around the city like normal people instead of climbing around on roofs and zip lines. She hates heights.

“Did you take us a longer way to the Diamond?” she asks. 

“No, Rook, it’s the same route we always take,” Lucanis says, there’s an amusement in his voice that makes her want to throw something at him. 

“It feels longer.”

“Okay.”

Lucanis is marvelously even-keeled at all times. Even when Spite is causing him problems, he seems very cavalier about the whole thing. She suspects that he’s just very good at burying his feelings. She’d know a thing or two about that. 

“So I don’t think I’m super familiar with Antivan funerary practices,” she says as they make their way across a rooftop. 

The look that Lucanis gives her can best be described as clearly horrified, but he covers it up quickly. “I think Teia is making most of the arrangements.”

“Is that typical? For the Crows, I mean?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s typical of Teia.”

“Oh?”

Lucanis sighs. “You saw her when they told us about Caterina…Teia had an easier time being close to her than Illario or I did.”

”Because they’re both Talons?”

“Because Caterina lost nothing by liking Teia. Teia is not a weakness to exploit or the entire expectations of her House.”

“But you were.”

“Yes.” He doesn’t clarify which, she suspects it’s both.

“Is there anything you need from me during this whole…” She gestures rather uselessly at whatever this is. 

Lucanis glances back at her. “I just appreciate you coming.”

They enter the Diamond. It looks more like it did when she first met with the Crows, before it was attacked by Venatori. The Crows made quick work of the clean-up. She’s still unsure about how she feels about working so closely with an organization of assassins. The Crows are woven into the society and culture of Antiva in tangled ways, and without a standing army, they really are the only defense against the Antaam and whatever else comes Antiva’s way. But there’s something that doesn’t quite sit right with her realizing how much this particular governing system relies on the whims of a handful of wealthy assassins. 

But that’s probably the poor street kid in her talking, so she keeps it to herself. 

Teia greets them with a smile, her curly hair bouncing as she approaches. Camina expected Viago to be at her side, as is usual, but tonight it’s Illario. 

“Good, you’re here,” Teia says warmly.

“Thank you for making the arrangements, Teia,” Lucanis says.

“For Caterina, how could I do otherwise?” She turns the full force of her brown eyes on Lucanis, radiating sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Lucanis. This must be such a blow. Rook, thank you for coming with him. I need at least one Dellamorte to plan this. His cousin has been no help at all.”

Illario stands beside her, looking pale and tired. “I’m sorry, Teia. This is just…too much right now.” And he does seem genuinely overwhelmed as if he can’t wait to leave. 

“Since I’m here, if there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word,” Camina replies. 

Teia smiles at her. “You’re such a dear. I hope these two are paying attention.”

Lucanis sighs. “Teia, don’t flirt with my…colleague.”

The pause before colleague is doing a lot of work in that sentence. But it’s not surprising. Lucanis has been somewhat distant at the Lighthouse even before the incident in Minrathous. He observes more than he engages, but it’s getting better. She’d walked in on him and Bellara exchanging cooking tips the other day. 

Teia smirks. “Jealous? Fine. To business, then. But first, I need the ashes.”

“Ashes?” Illario looks both lost and confused. 

Teia rolls her eyes. “Maker help us, yes, the ashes! Caterina’s ashes. From the cremation?”

Illario smiles in a way she thinks he means to be reassuring but instead, there’s something off-putting about it. For all his relative calm the last time she’d seen him, he seems like he’s fraying at the edges tonight. “Oh. Yes, of course. I’ll get them to you right away.”

Lucanis steps close to his cousin, his voice soft. “Illario, what happened?”

Illario searches Lucanis’s face. “What do you mean?”

“Caterina. How…? How did the Venatori get to her? When? Where? In the estate? In the city? How did they get past our people? What did they use? Poison? Blades? I need to know.”

These must be all the questions he’d been too shocked to ask lthe ast time they were here. She’s been around enough death and its aftermath to know that the answers don’t often offer any comfort to the living, but she understands why he’d want them anyway. 

Illario shakes his head dismissively. “Cousin, stop. You can’t dwell on this. It’ll drive you mad.”

Lucanis is a quiet man, but his voice raises a bit, frustration bleeding in. “I’m not dwelling. Zara killed the First Talon. I have to know how if I’m going to stop her.”

“I told you, I’m handling it.” There’s a finality to it, but it’s clear Lucanis is ready to fight. 

Illario is ‘handling it’? What does that mean? Is he going to go after Zara himself? Is he bent on revenge? It’s not really any of her business, but she can understand why Lucanis is so worried about his cousin. Emotion or grief or something is making him sloppy, forgetful. She can’t imagine that ends well for him.  

Camina notices that Lucanis and Illario’s conversation has attracted attention within the Diamond. The other Crows present have ceased their conversations, turning their attention to the pair. 

Teia has noticed as well. “Boys! Enough of this. We have other things to discuss.”

It is entertaining to see how Teia, who cannot be much older than either Lucanis or Illario, is able to rein them in so handily. Illario murmurs his apologies and takes his leave, Lucanis watching him go with worried eyes. 

“Are you alright?” She’s watching for any signs of Spite if the emotions of the day have gotten to him. 

“I’ll be fine. Better, once we kill Zara Renata. It’s him I’m worried about.”

Teia nods grimly. “Illario can be a handful, but this? The only time I’ve seen him like this was when Lucanis died.”

Right. Because they’d all thought Lucanis had been dead for a year. Had mourned him and remembered him…only for him to be here now. Lucanis shifts uncomfortably. 

Deftly, Teia changes topics. “You’re worrying, aren’t you? What will people say if they hear the ‘Demon of Vyrantium’ has a big, soft heart?”

He ignores Teia’s teasing. “He’s been careless at times, but never when his own life was on the line. Zara took down the First Talon. Anyone could be next. And my cousin doesn’t want to think about it.”

“You have a point. It’s not like Illario to ignore a knife coming at him. I’ll keep my eye on him.”

Appeased, he nods. “What do you need from me for the funeral?” 

“First, drinks, I think. Then I’ll show you what I’ve got so far,” she gestures for them to follow. 

What Teia has so far is an impressive collection of place settings and stationary and linens. Honestly, Camina had expected more gold. Lucanis just looks tired, but dutifully follows Teia making decisions and offering polite opinions. 

“You sort the stationary options, I need Rook’s opinion on something,” Teia says. 

Rook glances quickly to Lucanis who offers her the most imperceptible of nods. Which is good because she doesn’t want to abandon him, but she also doesn’t want to tip Teia off that something is not quite right. “Sure.”

“I’d be careful with her,” Lucanis says. 

Teia laughs, a musical thing. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep Rook safe from the flower arrangements.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Teia,” Lucanis says without turning. 

Teia leads her to another room that looks as though someone ransacked a greenhouse. The tables are all laden with different floral arrangements, each more elaborate than the last. Teia moves to the nearest one and begins toying with the placement of the blooms. 

“I understand you’re from Nevarra, a Mortalitasi?” Teia asks, the question tossed casually over her shoulder with a sway of her hips. 

“Mourn Watch, more specifically,” Camina corrects. 

Teia nods. “Ah, I think I’ve met with some of your order. They’re not terribly common outside the Necropolis, are they?”

She doesn’t ask if the familiarity was about assassination when she knows what the woman does for a living. “Nope. I’m a long way from home.”

“Well, I hope that you find Treviso well. The Crows are indebted to you for your help here against the Antaam.”

“That does feel somewhat strange,” she replies. 

Teia flashes a grin. “Oh, it’s not so bad having assassins on your side.”

This is what makes Teia dangerous. She’s beautiful, of course, but it’s the take-no-prisoners charm of it all. Camina tries to remind herself that Lucanis trusts this woman, but that doesn’t make her her friend. If anything, Lucanis’s warning feels especially clear now. 

She shrugs. “Simply unexpected.”

“How is Lucanis?” Teia asks, voice earnest and attention fully fixed on her. 

The concern feels damn genuine, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to betray his confidence. She offers up the same sort of non-answer she had given to Illario. “He was imprisoned for a year and the second he gets his freedom he loses his grandmother. That’s a lot for anyone.”

Teia smirks like she realizes she’s only offered a half-truth, but she doesn’t seem angry about it. If anything, there’s approval there. “I’m glad he has a place with you then.”

“We’re going to need him.”

***

Lucanis has never liked the Diamond; he likes it less trapped in a room making decisions about flowers and place settings and wines and paper. It is a long and frustrating evening asking himself, “What would Caterina have wanted?” as if he has not spent his whole life trying to be the answer to that very question. 

In the end, he’s able to convince Teia to keep the funeral itself small, that between the occupation and Venatori threat, too big an event would only be a target. Selfishly, it’s for him too. Mostly to avoid an audience if he has an incident with Spite. They argue a bit over invitations, but in the end, he’s satisfied. 

Before he and Rook leave, Teia asks him to go with him to her office. There’s a tidy sort of chaos to her space. Everything appears to have its place, but there are a lot of things in the office. Artwork and finely crafted wooden furniture takes up every available bit of space. Teia is a maximalist at heart, it seems. 

“I found something in Caterina’s private room here,” Teia says, reaching into a drawer and producing a small stack of papers. 

He carefully pulls the twine keeping them together. It’s a collection of maps and reports and notes about Venatori movements. Some of them mention the Ossuary. “What is this?”

“They date back to the day your ship was ‘lost’,” Teia replies. “They chase the smallest leads from Antiva to Tevinter and back again. She never stopped looking for you.”

And she died for it. What would she say if she could see him now? See what he’s become? How far he has fallen. How long had he hoped and prayed that someone was looking? That there would be some escape for him? And all that time, she had been trying. But was it out of love or because he was an expensive asset to have lost? Was the search that of a caring grandmother or the First Talon trying to find her heir apparent? With her dead and gone, there are some knots he’ll never be able to untangle. 

He rewraps the twine, tucking the parcel of papers away. “Thank you, Teia. House Dellamorte owes you for the kindness you’ve shown.”

Teia looks taken aback at his formality but quickly hides it. “Of course. Please give Rook my best.”

And then he turns on his heel and leaves Teia’s office. He finds Rook on the top level of the Diamond chatting amiably with the ever-stoic Viago. She steps away when she sees him approaching. 

“Ready to go?” 

He’s ready to leave the Diamond, but not Treviso. Not yet. 

“How much are you going to complain if I take you somewhere else in Treviso before we head back to the Lighthouse?” Lucanis asks. 

Rook considers his question and sighs. “Depends on how many zip lines and horrifying roof leaps there are.”

He knows that no matter what he says, she’ll follow. “No zip lines and only two ‘terrifying roof leaps’, but I promise the view is worth it.”

“And we can’t get this particular view from the ground?”

He smirks. “No.”

Rook looks like she wants to protest, but she doesn’t. “Lead on then.”

So he does, taking them to the northern part of his city. It’s been a year, but from up here, his city hasn’t changed. Unless he looks down, he cannot see the Antaam barricades, the scars left on his home. Up here, he’s almost able to pretend the last year didn’t happen. 

Spite loudly complains every step of the way, and continues to ask to talk to Rook, but never moves out of mild annoyance to true anger. It had been a miracle he’d been so well-behaved in the Diamond. Perhaps he had sensed the danger of revealing what they are. He wishes the quiet could last.

When he finally stops on the roof that is their destination, Spite has grown tired of trying to get his attention. He finds it easier to block Spite out when they’re out in the world like this. He’s desperate for another hour he doesn’t feel he has to track in the perpetual day-like glow of the Lighthouse. With no way to tell the time of day, he never knows if he’s lost time or if Spite has taken him over in the exhausted haze of eternal hours. He wants more time without having to fight sleep or to maintain control. Another hour that is his . 

This stretch of rooftop has always been one of his favorites. When he was younger, it was an escape from the Villa, and as he got older it became a sort of touchpoint after a particularly long time away. Illario used to find him here. He finds he doesn’t mind Rook’s presence; especially when she looks out at his city with the sort of awe it deserves. 

“Wow,” she whispers, taking in the view.

Treviso is a city best enjoyed at night. The canals turn silver in the moonlight against the backdrop of glowing street lamps, and the music that floats up toward the stars. There is always sound and laughter and life in Treviso. He can see the glow of ships moving in the harbor, the gentle sway of gondolas in the canals. Not even an Antaam invasion can change what Treviso is at its heart. He has been to many places, but nowhere truly compares to home. 

“I told you it would be worth it,” he says, unable to keep the smugness from his voice. “You’re getting better at this.”

Rook’s eyes narrow. “The patronizing tone is really selling it.”

“What tone? There was no tone!” But he’s chuckling because she is the slowest person he’s ever traipsed roofs with. “I used to come here when I was upset with Caterina as a boy.”

“You were climbing roofs like this as a kid?” she asks incredulously.

He shrugs. “All part of Crow training.”

“I met her the one time, but I don’t know anything about your grandmother beyond that she was First Talon,” Rook says. There’s a question there if he wants to take her up on it, gentle enough if he doesn’t. He appreciates that Rook never pushes too hard, always makes it a choice, an offer. 

“There wasn’t much about her that wasn’t defined by being First Talon,” he admits. “She was my grandmother, but she was always a Crow first.”

“That had to be hard. You said she raised you?”

He nods. “A rival house killed my parents. Illario’s too. Caterina had five children and eight grandchildren. She took us both in and raised us like brothers. We’re all that’s left.” The ruins of House Dellamorte. And now it’s just Illario…and whatever he’s become.

“I’m sorry,” she says. It’s not the first time she’s expressed sympathy to him, and it’s both unfamiliar and unexpected. 

“She feels sorry for you. The broken assassin,” Spite taunts. 

“I’ve presided over my fair share of funerals,” she says, and it’s clear he’s missed something or perhaps this is just an unexpected tangent. 

“I don’t think Teia has a Nevarran necromancer down as presiding at Caterina’s.”

Rook looks horrified, eyes wide, head shaking. “No, no…that’s…that’s not where I was going with that.”

“And…where were you going with it?” 

She keeps her gaze focused on the skyline, cheeks bright red from embarrassment. “I’ve been around a lot of people after they’ve lost someone. I don’t know that my experience offers much comfort to you, but I know that there’s no one way to grieve. That every grief is different because the person you lost is singular and unique. Does that make sense?” 

She turns to him at the final question, embarrassment fading, replaced instead with a clear earnestness in her eyes that could never survive in his world. 

“I’m used to death, Rook,” he says. ”It’s my job.” 

“Death and its aftermath are not the same thing.”

And he knows that, but it feels too big, too much to wrap his mind around when he may be free of the Ossuary, but he’s still just as trapped as before. It feels as though he’s lost everything that mattered, and Illario being so distant just makes it all worse. The parcel Teia gave him feels heavier now. 

He turns his attention back to the city, staring out towards the towering spires of the Chantry. Sometimes, it would be nice to believe in something bigger than death, but there’s little room for conscience in his line of work. “I know.”

“Are you religious?” she asks, as though she’s followed his gaze, his thoughts.   

He snorts. “No. We only ever went to the Chantry if we were looking to send a message.”

“Oh?”

“A group of trained killers showing up to worship services sends a pretty clear message.”

She considers that and smiles. “I’m sure it does.”

“I assume with all the presiding you are though.”

She shakes her head. “Not really. I’ve studied the Chant and other religious traditions as all Watchers do to be better stewards of the dead. The Mourn Watch is…very academic about it all. Much of what we know of the Fade and spirits stands in direct contradiction to the teachings of the Chantry. It’s viewed at best with amusement and at worst annoyance. There’s still an assumption of belief in the Maker though. Every fancy dinner party opening the term starts with a prayer. I don’t know, I didn’t have strong feelings about it until I watched an entire populace rewrite the narrative around a Dalish mage to make her into the Herald of Andraste.”

A breach in the sky and a Dalish mage at the head of a Chantry-organized institution. It had been odd to hear the mental acrobatics the most devout had twisted themselves into to explain that one. But what is religion except one way of explaining the unexplainable?

“And you’ve never corrected Bellara when she uses ‘our gods’ with you.”

She glances at him in surprise. “Yeah, she does do that.”

“Does it bother you?”

She frowns, looking back at the city. “I don’t know. I spent my whole life trying to blend into the Mourn Watch, which is by and large more inclusive than the rest of Nevarra. I was still an elf without family or money. It’s hard to say which made it harder. But then there’s Bellara who doesn’t seem to care and immediately includes me in what she sees as our shared history…it feels like…a piece of clothing I’m putting on. Not really part of me.”

It’s not the same, but it’s how he often feels with other Crows. He was born into this life, trained by the First Talon herself. There had been no period of trying to make a name for himself, of the bonding that emerges amongst other fledglings as they fight and claw and kill to survive. His upbringing had been dutifully fulfilling the expectations and shouldering the burdens placed upon him. It had always put a certain distance between him and other Crows. Illario had been the only other person who understood, but he had always been better at bridging that gap. 

“You could ask her to stop.”

She nods. “I could. It’s nice though. To just be included without reservation.”

It surprises him that she’d care about that at all. She seems so self-assured, so comfortable in her own skin. He realizes for the first time that it must have been hard-fought and that perhaps in losing her place in the Mourn Watch she has also lost a sense of self. 

“I’ve never really been part of a team like this before,” he admits. He hasn’t been part of Rook’s team long, but already there are things that have become important to him: the dinners filled with talking and laughter, listening to Bellara describe her favorite serials and Neve smirking as she figures out the twist, and the way Rook is always ready with a joke or quip. Even Harding seems to be trusting him more now. 

“Not even with other Crows?” she asks. 

“No.”

“But Teia seems…”

He sighs. “I know. And I know that she made up some job to get you alone to interrogate you. What did she want to know?”

“She’s worried about you. Do you think maybe you should tell them about Spite?”

He hates the idea of that; he wishes that Rook didn’t even know. He can’t imagine Illario finding out what he’s become. But more than that, he was sold out by someone in the Crows. He doesn’t believe Teia or Viago would do that, but with Caterina dead and Illario distracted, House Dellamorte is more vulnerable than ever before. If he was someone making a play for the seat of First Talon, he’d be striking now.

“Teia means well, but she is still a Talon from another House, and trust only goes so far.” It spoke to the dire circumstances the Antaam had put them in that Caterina had been in the company of two other Talons when she met with Rook. Teia and Viago are good Crows, but familiarity doesn’t mean anything more than tenuous alliances. Lucanis knows how quickly it could all shift anyway. Still, he doesn’t doubt that Teia cared for Caterina and cares about him. 

“Viago is a Talon from another House too, and it’s clear she trusts him.”

Well, there is that . “Teia and Viago are probably the only ones who truly understand what they are, but trust among Crows is always in short supply. Teia cared about Caterina, and Caterina favored her. It’s good of her to make the funeral arrangements, and we’re aligned in our desire to help Treviso. Her questions could be just as much concern as they are figuring out where the power shifts in House Dellamorte.” 

Rook doesn’t seem like she thinks much of his assessment. “That seems awfully complicated.”

“What? The Mourn Watch didn’t have their own politics?”

She snorts. “Of course, they did. It was just a bunch of stuffy, backward academics and skeletons. Watchers mostly have philosophical disagreements over dessert about the nature spirits and death or get mad about improper citation of research. No one dies. Well, most of the time no one dies…” Sometimes Rook says things that remind him that Nevarra is a very different place. 

“Oh, is that a hint of judgment I hear in your tone?” 

“What tone?” She asks, mimicking his earlier question with a feigned wide-eyed innocence. 

“We should head back to the Lighthouse.”

“Whenever you want.”

“Thank you for coming with me, Rook.” 

She shrugs like it’s nothing. “What are friends for?” She doesn’t say it pointedly, but he can only think with a little bit of shame the awkward way he’d referred to her as his colleague. And this is a job and jobs don’t last forever, but maybe it could be as simple as that.

[missmistborn]

Being trans right now is a lose in every way scenario. There's a couple of avenues you can take, and they all result in being fucked in one way or another. Say you want to create content and/or become a public figure. You're immediately starting far behind anybody else because a large portion of the population will just refuse to engage with anything you do. If you don't publicize that you're trans (which frankly is something that only some trans people can do in the first place), you'll be attacked for not using your platform to support other trans people. If you don't want a platform, you have to deal with being steamrolled by the current political climate, and having your right to exist as you are be a constant battleground. If you have it in you to speak out, there's only so much you can do and it feels like a losing battle. Depending on what you can and/or want to look/sound like, you may not ever get the chance to speak out or be immediately batted down if you do. If you want to cite sources, you have to practically get a degree in public speaking and know how to actually study papers or else you'll be spoken over and around. If you do all that, you'll be viewed as less trustworthy because you must be inherently biased, and thus even the people who are on the fence can be easily convinced to throw out anything you say.

Right now, I can't be me and fight for my rights without at absolute best a significant mental toll. This is why now more than ever, we need allies. This is a fight we cannot win alone. If you care about trans people--- maybe you have somebody in your life, or you just think that we are human and deserve the right to live without hatred being spewed at us all the time--- then please donate what you can whether that be your time, your love, your energy, or anything else that would help.

[celestie0]

rip to my kickoff ideas notes. i cannot believe how fucking dumb i was to write them in my notes app instead of google docs, considering i write virtually everything else in google docs. your demise was entirely my fault. may you rest in peace and prosperity. i have scoured the corners of my dumbass brain n jotted down what i could remember from pure memory, which luckily was quite a bit, but i will never have the nuance or detail that you so valiantly achieved. i could only resuscitate so much. i now lay you to rest.

[sad-emo-dip-dye]

My head in my hands

[thebigqueer]

banging my fists into the ground I NEED A GIRLFRIEND

[sphnyspinspin]

WHAT’S UP FELLOW TRANSFORMER ENJOYERS!!!

I, the wonderful Sphny, have created a Transformers themed prompt list, for the month of July. But then I realized it could be used for any month to be honest.

For context, I recently made the terrible mistake of deleting a majority of my beloved masterpieces and I have been scrambling to find proper inspo to cope with my loss. Yet I couldn’t find any drawing prompts that fit my specific needs. So low and behold a very random roller coaster of creative prompts for creative minds!

These can be used for anything creative. That’s why I didn’t call it just a drawing or writing prompt list fyi. I thought it was clever.

ENJOY!

Check This Out! @novafire-is-thinking @asmoteeth @sonia-aquamarineson @sonicnerd @jessenitrogen @gelu-the-babosa-multiversal @luciolefire @bdwarrior1

No pressure to do this with me, I’m just extremely proud of this. And I like being a show off!

[lsleofthelost]

just realised that i lost all my isle of the lost books (and all the highllights and annotations i made there) bc it wasn't uploaded to my icloud for some reason and im literally devastated

[manawari]

WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!!!!!

WE GOT A FLASHBACK OMG

EUN-SEOK'S DEATH??? 🥺💔

AND YOON-HO'S GRIEVING!!!!!!

[sparklingchim]

vacation time is over its time to be a girl boss again n i am upset !!!!!!!!!!

[lavenderjewels]

Never getting over this scene. the chapters right before this of gojo thinking quickly while dozens of people get killed but not hesitating in making risks. all this cool guy behavior only to be completely frozen by the corpse of his best friend saying his name. right when there’s a flashback of jogo saying not even a thousand lives could distract him, but kenjaku knowing without a doubt geto’s could.

Then gojo immediately experiencing for the first time what he just put others through by activating his domain. Reliving years of his past actions and experiences with geto (who marked his “youth”) in just a moment.

Meanwhile, Kenjaku is taunting Gojo for not getting rid of Geto’s body or forgetting Geto when we know Kenjaku fully centered their plan around Gojo being affected by Geto. And with Kenjaku knowing Geto’s memories, Gojo’s last words to him, and the throw away line that Gojo couldn’t destroy the body after JJK 0 despite acting positive afterwards with his students... It’s so heartbreaking, but incredibly written