#it feels like ive lost something so important
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It's officially the last ever day that a bad batch episode will be released.
#i'm in mourning#it feels like ive lost something so important#star wars#the bad batch#tbb#starwars#sw#the bad batch season 3#bad batch#sw tbb s3#sw tbb#the bad batch s3
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what up it's been 12 years and i'm still pissed there was no consequence to dean being in constant survival mode and fighting 24/7 in purgatory
what do you mean he didn't become a god at hand to hand combat? what do you mean he could still be jumped by random ass demons?
he was - at best - in a constant in-between state meaning he didn't get hungry or tired but that also means he didn’t sleep for a year and was constantly being hunted by hundreds of thousands of monsters that want to eat him specifically, while actively searching for cas
OR he was in a completely normal state meaning he was constantly fighting starvation and exhaustion while all of that was still happening!! it's not like there's much to scavenge in monster heaven!! he would’ve been on the verge of dying for a year!!!
then he comes back and he's just exactly the same? the same level of fighting skill he's always had? if not slightly worse for some reason?? what do you mean he couldn't kill anything he came across with his eyes closed when it's what he's been doing EVERY DAY FOR A YEAR???
it's always been one of the flaws of a show running for so long that after like s6 they never seemed to be getting better? they still got the shit kicked out of them by demons and ghosts and what have you and instead of finding obscure rituals they just got A Better Gun™️
both sam and dean are the peak of what hunters can be; they've been trained to hunt and kill things bigger and stronger than them since they were children, so what do you mean they still get the shit kicked out of them so often? was it just to show how strong monsters are? that even with their level of experience and skill, they're still outmatched?
(or do you just need a way to keep up the tension cough cough what who said that)
but you can't have dean who's been trained to be an elite soldier Since He Was Four Years Old go into a 360 combat scenario for an entire year - a good chunk of which he was completely by himself - then say he didn't improve his combat skills At All
and not even just combat, his senses would've been off the charts!! there was nothing but ambient forest noise and growling, his hearing would've gotten so sharp, it was darker so his night vision would ve been insane and he should've been able to feel a monster coming a mile away after constantly being on guard
post purgatory dean had the opportunity to be a completely different beast to anything we'd ever seen before, to be a completely different kind of traumatised from all of his other trauma
hell broke him but purgatory should've broken and rebuilt him into something Terrifying
#lost potential has always been spns biggest problem post s5 bc there was no plan and never a guarantee that theyd get another season#so whatever new villain or circumstance they introduced always had to be written to be concluded that season#bc they never knew until the mid season break if they could stretch it into the next season#thats why side characters die and get brought back so many times bc each death really was supposed to be It#but then they got another season and its like well shit cas cant stay dead lets figure out how he can come back this time#they could never permanently alter sam or deans personality or mental state bc they couldnt let time go on before resolving it#its also why they never stayed apart bc of the newest Big Fight for more than an episode but thats a different conversation#nothing could have lasting consequences but something like this shouldve changed dean as much as hell changed dean#and hell changed him permanently bc there was a plan and knowledge of how many seasons they had#s8 onwards leaves the characters in a constant loop of feeling the same things and having the same arguments#with whatever new apocalypse dropped in the middle#dean was arrogant in s1; lost in s2; afraid in s3; broken in s4 and at war with himself in s5#sam was kind and lost in s1; he was angry in s2; desperate in s3; an addict in s4 and recovering in s5#that kind of character growth is important and amazing to watch#other than dean being reluctant and sam soulless in s6 did they ever have such a clear difference season to season?#if anything dean shouldve had a bigger reaction to same leaving him in purgatory#that shouldve been something he held over his head for the rest of their lives bc it is unforgivable#but the boys are never allowed to change and dean dies to fuck ass vampires and a nail so whats the point anyway#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#supernatural#spn#carry on my wayward son#dean winchester#sam winchester#talk meta to me
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one thing about me is i have very serious somewhat arbitrary opinions for things of and relating to aru sekai series & u will be hearing them
#magu songs in general perhaps but series things especially#i take this silly little song series so seriously it hurts.#ik i make jokes occasionally & im fine with it if its at least somewhat based on canon info#but if u reduce the series to jokes & memes. well. tip: i am so mad#literally the only reason i havent done any in depth analysis recently is because im very aware its going to take up all of my time#its not that ive lost sight of or am tired of canon info. its that i care so much it will consume me entirely#which is fine if theres a new series song but when its just going over the existing songs i feel like#it just becomes 'uve said this 7 times now can we find something else to talk about'#& i feel bad. but i care so much. i care so so much#good thing im an artist bc no one complains if im out here drawing way too much fan art. i feel a lot less guilty about that#hands u images of pretty girls as a way of saying 'i love this series so much' without having to actually say that#a story about loss & sacrifice & the importance of being human told solely thru obtuse voca songs can be#something so personal actually#the importance of being human is a bad way of phrasing it but like i said its 4 am u have to excuse me#im talking about the message of if u ignore ur own will ur doing urself a disservice & reducing urself to a tool
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the results of that "is fanfic a book" poll have shown me one thing and its that this site never graduated past that absolutely insufferable phase in 2013 where everyone acted like every book is the single most sacred thing on earth
#sorry rant incoming. you know like the people who got way too offended over dog earing or carving books for art or things like that?#that's what the notes section of that poll feel like. just way too many people (on both sides) putting way too much importance on Books.#like first you have the 'um ive read fanfic that was deep and beautiful and thematic so yes all fanfic is books' votes#which like. ok. ive also read really deep thematic screenplays but that doesnt make it a book its simply not. what a book is#then you have the honestly even worse 'um your reylo au isn't like the works of the masters its not REAL BOOKS' crowd#which like. yeah most actual published books are not as good as the 'works of the masters' whatever that means. so you have proven nothing#which brings us back to the absolute worst of all 'colleen hoover & co aren't books either' SOMEHOW#like. ok well i think her work is pretty bad but it was literally edited and published into literal books so#if you're going to decide that you get to be the arbiter of what books are Good Enough to count as Real Books well you've lost already.#because no that's not how any of this works. youre fighting one of the most famous Losing Battles in all of art discourse.#a book is just. a format that writing can be in its not some holy status you have to work to acheive#and to try and turn it into that is really stupid and self important i think because like again#who gets to decide what books are Real? what motivates them to make that choice? what biases are benefited from that?#i think its worth noting in conversations like this everyone wants to deny female romance authors the title of Real Book#(which yes a lot of those books are very shallow or badly written. many have outright offensive tropes)#but nobody mentions the equally shallow and offensive stuff by/for men. like william johnstone's shitty cowboy books for example.#no matter how you try to frame it youre going to lose the second you decide something has to fit your standards to be real art.#avpost#its very reminiscent for me of the conversation around modern art where people just want to say they know what is and isn't real art#based on like whatever standards they want. 'ugh its just dots it's not real art'. do u see where im coming from.#a book is just. a piece of writing that was edited and published in the form of a physical book. that's it. its a v literal if vague noun.#it can be something with a lot of depth and meaning. it can be shallow and hacky. it can be nonfiction entirely. its not a value statement#which can also be said about art as a whole some of it is very shallow and bad. some of it is extremely skilled and profound#anyway. no fanfic isn't inherently books but some fanfics have undergone editing & publishing and became books i think#and that doesnt mean that they're 'as good as' the classics by really skilled writers. but theyre still books#tbh a lot of the published fanfic books are worse than most nonbook fanfic. them being books isnt a statement of being more valuable.#its just a literal fact.#i think its interesting to discuss but i swear its not a huge deal whether fanfic is books the bigger deal to me is#the weird attitude popping up on both sides. which i think most people would also find stupid if their brains hadnt been like#totally ruined by an uninterrupted 5 years of insufferable-on-all-sides fanfic discourse that has ruled this website.
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every time i feel like im ready to explode i am granted a new horror to my shit sandwich
#lost in the sauce but its me drowning in every new layer of things happening in my life rn#at first it was a bachelorette on my birthday that i cannot afford. and then we were told it was one night. it was originally all weekend#then i got told we're moving#ok. i already have time off for my birthday. so i guess i have time for all this now.#now the new apt has water damage and i cannot move into it on my long weekend. i do not have the pto to get another long weekend.#ok. fine. i will pack on my birthday.#no. you have jury duty that week. you COULD'VE got pto for that but you have too many important things to miss.#ok.#ur jury duty would've rlly helped your moving btw. if that was happening anymore.#ok thanks.#like anything else? genuinely? anyone else have something they need me for this month before i spontaneously combust?#anyway im going to make dinner#so i can go to my cousins baby shower.#so i can go see my in laws#when i haven't seen my own family in like a month but ive spent the past few weekends with them.#and will continue to spend my weekends with them for this wedding my partner is in.#which im not but since we're engaged im expected to help without any of the recognition of being in a wedding. its cool.#like 3 of my precious pto days were used for this but its good.#i just am not allowed to take unpaid days off without a writeup.#even if i feel like i wanna die i am out of time off.#its soooo good im sooooo in a great place.#biting and biting and biting and biting the pto system at my work
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im sooooooo fucking excited to be driving so far to see fob like genuinely i love traveling and love adventures and experiencing new places and things like this and i love fob so much i would literally do anything for them so a 13 hour drive from washington to utah is so whatever and just like. idk it's gonna be such a special whole experience it is going to be Everything im So Excited
#the only thing that would make this better would be them announcing an actual pnw date too. so i can see them twice. please fob#and like to get more deep in the tags. i rly have lost myself over the past months like. idk who i am anymore#ive lost meaning and purpose in my life but i am so ready to find it again. to find myself. to learn who i am#and i so deeply feel like this is going to be a big part of that. going on such a big trip with my sister and her bf helping pay for it all#myself doing something New and out of my comfort zone#n like i talked w my therapist a couple days ago that traveling and going to concerts and doing stuff like this like. Living. can be my new#meaning and purpose and that is everything to me. this is everything to me. fob being part of this journey so thoroughly is so important#so special bc they are like. truly and as parasocially as possible the one constant safety in my life#so yeah im just. im so excited. july could not come sooner.#txt
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I keep being like damn. When I started exercising I should have measured circumference, and not weight. I have not lost a meaningful amount of weight in kg since I started exercising a lot in January, but I've gotten smaller. (Well, I lost about 5, 5.5kg in 10 months, but I lost that weight at the start of the year, didn't regain it, and now I keep fluctuating in the same 5kg range)
But much more importantly than the number on the scale, I feel much better in my skin, I feel stronger, I AM stronger, my stamina has increased significantly, I am more flexible, and my back/neck/shoulder pain has decreased significantly.
Who the hell cares about the number on the scale? I am not going to starve myself for a number to change. And besides, I'm gaining muscle mass, so that number is bull anyway. I don't want to starve myself and I don't want to keep myself from having my little treats, so I watch my protein intake and call it a day. A wonderful way to live.
Me: Exercise does not cause weight loss. This is a fact that has been demonstrated so robustly in research that even doctors, who hate and fear evidence, are grudgingly starting to admit this.
Someone reading that post: Cool, but have you considered that exercise leads to weight loss?
Me: I am going to eat you
#my mom worked hard with a dietician and PT and lost a lot of weight this year (and the past couple) and then worked to gently stop dieting#for a year so her body can rest and so she doesn't do the whole starvation mode thing#and i admire the hard work she put into it and her dedication etc#i could never#but she got a lot of fulfillment out of it and i respect that#but she has always done her best to make us aware of what we eat without yknow. giving us eating disorders or scaremongering#science driven#and it left an impression#so when im like#this thing im doing is weighing on my mental health and my energy allowance#i drop it#which is why i don't spend a lot of time or energy on tracking my food#i try to have protein-focused eating patterns because otherwise i really notice that I get so exhausted and my body HATES when i dont get#enough protein#and rightfully so i have 3 hours of cardio and 3 hours of weight training per week (there's some overlap bc itc#it's more nuanced than weight training and cardio)#but even when i was tracking my intake i was not getting ENOUGH calories#like i was at a pretty serious deficit a lot of days and that was a deficit compared to what my needs would be for quick weight loss#and i still wasnt really losing weighy#anywau#this just struck something because a trainer asked me today if i lost weighy#and it was complimentary and i was flattered#but feeling flattered was in part because i knew i HADNT#my weight has been consistent for a while and in fact im on my period#but evidently my shape is changing enough that he saw a difference between now and three weeks ago#also unrelated but ive gotten some huge confidence boosts from wearing croptops to exercise where everything is unflattering#i now feel comfortable exposing my belly in public so this summer was croptop and shorts summer#and COMPLETELY unrelated but similar confidence boosts from wearing corsets#okay im done now#i dont think anyone will read all these tags but this was important for me to get out apparently
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How the fuck am i supposed to recieve comfort or tell myself im not a horrible fucking EVERYTHING when literally i do nothing but cause harm. How the fuck is a perpetrator of harm supposed to be consoled? Im that fucking horrible huh
#system babbles#genuinely idk what to do because every time i start feeling better i do something worse or i do something to make it all come back around#its a pattern.everyone ive ever been with says i dont change or improve. its happening again and im just#im stuck waiting for the day everyone gets sick of it and realizes its time to ditch me. nothing is forever and ive had 4 homes in 2 year#all containing different sets of people who said they cared about me#I've lost everything every single time I've ever tried and the more i keep trying at anything the more i fail and harm others#man it's everything i can do to keep myself nicies to myself. i already let everyone and myself down multiple times today#vent#negative#i just FUCKING hate myself and I don't know what to do or where to go because i feel like I'm on fire and i wanna die but its all my fault#everything thats hurt me has been completely my fault and i dont even have a right to complain yet. there i go again. fucks sake#someone just hit me as hard as they can so i can learn or something. obviously kindness isnt working anymore but#physical abuse has worked in the past to make me shut the fuck up. why can't we just bring that back. I'd like that#idk i feel awful and i have no right to want to feel better but i want to so bad. i want to stop hurting LITERALLY the#most important being in the entire world to me. i keep doing it and i don't see myself changing. i only see anger growing and becoming more#frequent
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apologies are hard and can be embarassing
but life is too short to let your grandma go to bed sad
#it wasnt a big bad deal#but i didnt listen and projected my guilt#i wanted to be angry and annoyed#but whats the point#is it really that important to feel right when youre actually wrong#to feel mighty bc youre less emotional than another person#its hard to swallow that pride and to admit you were wrong#but you never know if this moment is the last with that person#and putting in that perspective it makes it easy to say youre sorry#i sometimes forget this#something i learned very young after fighting with my mom and upon reflection realized i was wrong the whole time#ive always had this ability since then to swallow my pride almost immediately and jump straight to fixing what i did wrong#but then long story short i lost that ability when i learned the word 'no' for myself#i stopped paying attention and focused on only me#and sometimes i forget that this is not who i want to be. i forget to work on myself#im glad that i made myself apologize and im glad that i made sure i didnt apologize weakly#none of that 'im sorry you feel that way'#but id like to work on avoiding this all together. and thats hard for me. because it requires me to be aware like i used to#which for me is PTSD related. but i dont want to be on my deathbed recalling all the pointless times i doubled down#taking up time that could have been happy#people say its easy to be kind and it is but sometimes when youre guilty it feels good to give into your frustrations and get defensive#again nothing bad happened. i just told her i wanted to do the dishes. she was currently washing some and because of guilt#of my perception of what shes able to do i doubled down on me doing them instead of her even though she assured me she was able#i thought she was lying to me and she got upset. no yelling just not allowing her to do what little shes able#and not trusting her at her word. to be fair she does lie and will admit that she has- when doing things when i feel sick#even when i tell her that id rather choose what im able to do instead of her assuming. which is exactly what i did#me being a hypocrit. so yeah. not a great feeling on multiple levels of this scenario#but truly i need to remember to focus on what matters and that is just taking someones word for it while making sure they know they can#freely tell their feelings. meaning if shes doing the dishes and she says shes fine. let it be. and make sure she absolutely knows that when#i say im fine that i too am telling the truth
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sometimes im like what if steddie go away noooo but then something happens (head over heels?) and i feel like its the first day of the obsession again. i hope its permenant.
#thankfully ive never Lost a fixation so i will have them forever im stuck with them but#it is still scary thinking about something else being more important like i hope that never happens ill just#have to force myself to never feel joy again
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honestly it also feels weirdly pretentious because like... what do bad and good even mean when it comes to art? technical skill? delivery? tone? meaning? intention? these are all completely separate metrics that can individually fail while others succeed. and succeeding well enough in one can make an otherwise kinda shoddy work resonate with people! which is why things become popular!
op is fully right to call out how weirdly convenient it is for certain people to claim they just always saw something as bad, but additionally it displays a complete lack of understanding of... anything. i wonder sometimes if folks who brag about this kind of thing have ever actually engaged with a work of art in their life, because i struggle to see how anyone who HAS could fail to empathize with people who liked a "bad thing" and were upset/disappointed when the creator turned out to suck. something doesnt have to be objectively perfect to be loved and cared about.
...which probably is another mindset to unpack, but that doesnt need to go on this post
I never got into Harry Potter, but I have a lot more respect for someone who can say “these books were an important part of my life, but I recognize the pain and harm that comes from supporting them, so I’m making an effort to stop engaging with them” versus someone who’s like “lol the books were always bad, I don’t have to worry about boycotting them because I have Good Taste.”
Like, if you think you never have to think critically about the things you like because you only engage with “Good Art,” then that’s awfully convenient
#idk ive been thinking a lot about weird and 'bad' art and how i as an artist need to get comfortable making more of it#so i have a LOT of half formed thoughts in this area#i work more in visual art than written but imo its the same just different mediums#people who are snobs about this have the air of never actually letting a work into their heart before#which is kind of sad to consider#art exists to be felt about#and/or thought about#and it doesnt have to be beautiful or good or perfect or commercial to be worth loving#HP also was important to me as a kid#yeah i lost a lot of interest over the years as JKR fucked up more and worse#i dont think theres anything wrong with having an attachment to the series#post i saw earlier today pointed out you cant know or control what people take away from a work#something like HP is the same#the difference isnt about like... feelings about the work#its about the choice to continue buying and talking about a work in light of what its come to represent#which is a completely different thing#i dont think i have to trample on my child self's feelings.#i think i can recognize what it meant and that its time has passed and ive moved on#and i think its completely reasonable for folks who werent ready to move on to mourn that#idk! i think we should have more empathy for people and let ourselves feel things about trivial stuff like art#feelings get reserved for big important things sometimes and i say fuck that#ok i will shut up now#yelling at the void
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if the world was ending, i’d wanna be next to you — itadori yuji and ryomen sukuna.
“You’re scared, little one.” Sukuna observes, voice low and taunting. “Quite a face I’ve never seen in a long time.” Your heart pounds, every instinct screaming at you to run, to get away from him. But something roots you in place, the inexplicable connection between the face you loved and the one you now feared, pulling you in two directions at once. “How low you’ve come, little one.” he continues, his voice dripping with amusement. “Really? A green boy like him?” He leans in closer, his presence suffocating. “An insult to your standards, little one.”
GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;
WARNING/S: spoilers for jjk chapter 271, not safe for work, angst, fluff, one sided romance, eventual romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, reincarnation, happy ending, hurt, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, afterlife, internal conflict, future, letting go, depiction of moving forward, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of rebirth, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of character death, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, depiction of happy end, true form! sukuna, itadori yuji, reincarnated concubine! reader;
WORD COUNT: 11k words
NOTE: this was highly requested, that concubine reader from the other woman has some closure and freedom and happiness in her next life. well, this is it. i feel like after having read chapter 271 completely, i feel like this was also a good sort of closure on sukuna's character. as ive said, i wasn't satisfied much, but i decided to write a path of my own here. and i hope you like it!!! i love you all <3
main masterlist
the other woman masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
kayu's playlist, side 1500;
THE PAST WAS SOMETHING THAT INTRIGUED YOU. You used to wonder if you had a life before this one. The thought lingered like a shadow on quiet nights, gnawing at the edges of your consciousness. You were always curious: Was it a good life? Did you laugh often? Were you loved? And in the end, did you grow old surrounded by warmth, or did your story close abruptly, lost to the currents of time? These questions, though unspoken, echoed through your mind like the turning pages of an unfinished book.
Yet, it’s in moments like this—simple, undemanding, and unexpectedly tender—that those questions fall away. You realize that the answer doesn’t matter as much as you once thought. You and Itadori Yuji, sitting side by side, the air filled with the sound of his laughter, his energy contagious and effortless. It's not always what you do together, but how he has a way of making everything feel lighter, even when life is at its heaviest.
In these instances, where time seems to slow down and the weight of the past dissolves, you’re reminded that perhaps the life before—if it existed at all—was not as important as the one unfolding now. This is where the heart finds its peace. Being with Yuji, you feel that indescribable warmth. It’s the warmth of being cared for, the joy of connection, the quiet happiness of simply being. Moments like this feel like the reward of a life well-lived, even if the past is a mystery.
Maybe in another life, you were loved. Maybe you weren’t. But in this one, as you sit here with Yuji, you feel blessed in a way that transcends time, as if this companionship, this simplicity, is enough to fill whatever came before.
You glance over at Yuji, who’s still laughing, the corners of his eyes crinkled in that way that makes him look so carefree, so utterly at peace. It’s moments like this that make you forget about the world outside.
“You know, Yuji,” you say, leaning back a bit, “sometimes I wonder if I had a life before all of this. Like, did I have a good life? Was I happy? Did I do anything important?” Your voice trails off, unsure if you’re even making sense. It’s one of those thoughts that sounds bigger in your head, harder to explain aloud.
Yuji pauses, the smile still lingering on his lips but his eyes now softening as he looks at you. “I dunno about a past life,” he says, shrugging in that easy, nonchalant way of his, “but I think it doesn’t really matter, right? I mean, what’s important is now, right here. And… if you’re happy now, then that’s enough, isn’t it?”
You look at him, surprised by the simplicity of his words. Yuji always has a way of cutting through complicated feelings with such earnestness, and it hits you every time.
“Yeah, but what if I didn’t get that? What if I didn’t get the chance to be happy then?” you say, not sure why you're pushing the point. Maybe you want to hear more of his optimism, that unwavering belief in the present.
Yuji thinks for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then… maybe that’s why you’re here now. To have those moments. To feel that happiness.” He grins suddenly, almost sheepish. “And hey, if that’s true, then I guess it’s my job to make sure you’re having a good time in this life.”
You smile, something warm settling in your chest. "You think so? That’s your job now?"
“Yep!” Yuji says with a bright nod. “And honestly? I think I’m doing pretty good at it, don’t you?” He nudges you playfully, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Yeah,” you admit, feeling lighter. “Yeah, you’re doing a pretty good job.”
Yuji leans back, satisfied. “See? No need to worry about the past. We’re making good memories right now. And who knows, maybe in the next life, we’ll be laughing about this one.”
You chuckle at the thought, realizing he’s right in a way. The present, with all its little joys, is more than enough. And with Yuji by your side, it feels like it always will be.
Itadori Yuji was your opposite—he was vibrant, bursting with energy, like the sun at its highest peak. Where you were quiet, thoughtful, perhaps a little reserved, Yuji was a whirlwind of light, so bright it was impossible not to be pulled into his orbit. He was the type of person who loved easily, fiercely, without hesitation. In the short time you had known him, it felt like he had illuminated parts of you that you didn’t even realize had been in shadow.
Six months. That’s how long he had been in your life, and in that brief window, Yuji became your biggest friend. He was the kind of friend who made you forget your worries, who could turn a mundane moment into something extraordinary just by being there.
You weren’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, your feelings for him deepened into something more. You didn’t just care for him, you were falling for him. His smile, his laugh, the way he’d look at you with such unguarded sincerity—it all crept into your heart before you had a chance to stop it.
But then, as suddenly as he had entered your life, he was gone.
You mourned him in the rawest sense, the grief hitting you like a wave, unrelenting and suffocating. You had barely begun to process what he meant to you, and now you were left with nothing but memories. Memories that once brought joy now twisted into something painful, aching. The world felt dimmer without him, like someone had extinguished the light you had grown so accustomed to.
You grieved the moments you never had, the confessions that were never spoken. You grieved the time you lost and the love you never got to fully express. And in the quiet, lonely nights, you found yourself missing even the smallest things—his goofy grin, the way he’d always try to cheer you up, the warmth he carried with him wherever he went.
Itadori Yuji had changed your world in just six months, and now, with him gone, you didn’t know how to go back to how things were before him. Maybe you never would.
And now, you stand face to face with someone else. Someone you didn’t know—someone that terrified you. Ryomen Sukuna. The King of Curses, wearing Yuji’s face but twisted into something cold and malevolent. His presence was overwhelming, a suffocating aura that made your skin crawl, your heart race in dread. The Yuji you had known, the boy you had fallen for, was nowhere to be found in the dark, calculating red eyes that now gazed at you.
But as you meet Sukuna’s gaze, there’s something strange—something unsettling in its familiarity. Amidst the malice, the sadistic smirk, and the chilling sense of power, there’s a flicker of something that shouldn’t be there. Something… almost tender. A subtle glint of fondness that feels utterly out of place in someone like him.
Your breath catches in your throat. It doesn’t make sense. Sukuna should have no reason to look at you this way, no reason to show anything other than contempt or amusement. And yet, there it is—just beneath the surface, a strange warmth, a recognition.
He steps closer, and you instinctively take a step back, fear surging through you like ice in your veins. This wasn’t Yuji. This wasn’t the boy who made you feel safe, who filled your days with laughter and light. This was a monster. A curse. But the way Sukuna’s eyes linger on you, the way his lips curve in a slow, deliberate smirk—there’s something disturbingly familiar in it. A haunting echo of the person you lost.
“You’re scared, little one.” Sukuna observes, voice low and taunting. “Quite a face I’ve never seen in a long time.”
Your heart pounds, every instinct screaming at you to run, to get away from him. But something roots you in place, the inexplicable connection between the face you loved and the one you now feared, pulling you in two directions at once.
“How low you’ve come, little one.” he continues, his voice dripping with amusement. “Really? A green boy like him?” He leans in closer, his presence suffocating. “An insult to your standards, little one.”
You swallow, throat dry, unable to tear your eyes away from his. “You’re not Yuji.” you whisper, the words feeling like a betrayal, even though you know they’re true.
“No.” Sukuna agrees, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “I’m not. I’d rather not be. But…” His eyes narrow, that strange fondness flashing again, almost as if he’s toying with something deeper. “It’s far better that it is I in front of you.”
Your chest tightens at his words, the weight of them sinking in. It’s impossible, and yet… something in Sukuna’s gaze—something about the way he looks at you—makes you feel like, in some twisted way, you’re still staring into the remnants of Yuji. Or perhaps the remnants of what could have been.
“Stay back!”
“How cruel, little one. When I was your life.” Sukuna says, almost thoughtfully. “You grieved for him. A brat. And yet, here I am, standing right in front of you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
His words feel like a cruel mockery, slicing through your defenses with the precision of a knife. Yet, amid the taunts and the darkness that envelops him, there’s an undercurrent of truth that stings—a painful reminder of everything you’ve lost. You find yourself grappling with an unsettling confusion, a whirlwind of emotions that makes your head spin.
This is a monster, you remind yourself. A malevolent being born of curses and chaos. You do not know him, no matter how he tries to push, no matter how his eyes—those dark, swirling eyes that resemble Yuji’s—seem to reach deep into your soul, searching for something buried within. You’re scared. Scared of the implications, scared of the truth that threatens to unravel everything you thought you understood.
You had wanted Yuji back—longed for him, missed him so much that it hurt. The ache in your heart was a constant companion, an echo of laughter and warmth that once filled your days. You had spent countless nights wishing for a miracle, hoping to see that familiar, infectious smile again. But now, faced with the twisted reality of what stood before you, you weren’t sure if you could handle the price of that wish.
Could this—this—be the cost? A piece of Yuji entangled in a form so horrifying, so devoid of the light he once radiated? The very thought makes you recoil. You want to reject it, to deny that any part of Yuji could reside within Sukuna. But the familiarity in Sukuna’s gaze, the hints of fondness mixed with malice, make it impossible to ignore.
You take a shaky breath, grounding yourself as you try to separate the remnants of your grief from the reality before you. “You’re not him, stop. Stop talking!” you say again, more forcefully this time, but it feels like a hollow declaration. Deep down, you know it’s not enough. The monster in front of you wears Yuji’s face, and it shakes you to your core.
Sukuna steps closer, his presence a dark shadow looming over you, and you can’t help but feel trapped in this moment. You wonder if you should flee, escape the suffocating tension that surrounds you, but something keeps you rooted. It’s as if a part of you is drawn to this interaction, compelled to understand, to confront the tangled web of loss and longing that you’ve been avoiding.
“Tell me, little one.” Sukuna murmurs, his voice low and almost teasing. “What is it you miss about him? The laughter? The heroism? Or is it simply the idea of what he represented—hope?”
His words pierce through the fog of confusion, and you find yourself grappling with the truth of them. What did you miss about Yuji? Was it just the memories of the boy who filled your life with laughter, or was it something deeper—a feeling of safety, a light in the darkness that made everything feel manageable? The longing you felt was so raw, so visceral, but now it felt tainted, complicated by the monstrous form before you.
“I don’t know…..I….” you admit, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I just know that I wanted him back. I wanted him to stay.” The admission slips out before you can stop it, a soft confession echoing in the heavy silence.
Sukuna watches you closely, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “And yet here I am, standing in his place.” he says, his tone laced with dark amusement. “Perhaps you should reconsider what it is you truly prefer, little one.”
His words hang in the air, heavy with implications you’re not ready to confront. The dread creeps back in, entwined with that lingering curiosity. You realize, with a shiver, that this moment is a threshold—a chance to either run away from the painful truth or face it head-on. You don’t know what it means for you or what it might cost, but deep down, you understand that avoiding Sukuna will not bring Yuji back.
Caught in this whirlwind of emotions, you stand there, heart pounding, feeling the walls close in around you. The weight of grief and longing collides with fear, and you can’t shake the feeling that in this moment, every choice you make could lead to something irrevocable. The haunting question lingers: What if you truly do remember? And what would that mean for both Yuji and the monster that now embodies him?
Sukuna smiles, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips, and somehow, even through the fear, you feel it—the remnants of Yuji still flickering in the dark recesses of this cursed form. And it breaks your heart all over again.
You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you look into Sukuna’s eyes, those dark, unsettling orbs that seem to mock everything you once knew. But you force the words out anyway, your voice trembling but determined. “I don’t remember you.”
Sukuna snickers, his laughter low and taunting. It sends a chill down your spine, as if he’s amused by some private joke you’re not in on. He leans in slightly, tilting his head, his smirk widening into something more dangerous, more possessive. “Is that what you tell me after all this time, little one?”
The way he says it—so familiar, so intimate—makes your breath catch. It’s like he’s speaking of something only the two of you should know, something hidden beneath the surface of your shared history. But how? You’ve never met Sukuna before. And yet… something in his voice, in the way he calls you little one, stirs something deep inside you. A flicker of something you can’t quite place, something buried.
You take a step back, shaking your head, trying to keep your composure. “I don’t know you. You’re not Yuji, you’re not….” you say again, though this time it sounds more like a plea. A desperate attempt to hold onto the truth, to make sense of the chaos swirling around you.
Sukuna’s grin only deepens. He watches you with a look that’s far too knowing, as if he can see right through your confusion, right through your walls. “Oh, but you do, little one.” he purrs, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “Perhaps you just don’t want to remember.”
Your pulse quickens as his words settle over you, heavy with implications. His gaze feels like it’s piercing through you, dredging up memories you aren’t even sure exist. Could there be something you’re missing? Something you’ve forgotten, or worse—something you’ve buried?
“Look at you, little one. More fragile than what you had been.” Sukuna continues, his voice lowering to something almost dangerous. “Pretending you don’t know. But your eyes betray you. You know me. Maybe not in this life… but somewhere, deep down.” He lifts a hand, lazily gesturing to himself. “You’ve always known me.”
Your chest tightens at the weight of his words, at the way they seem to pull you into something far more complex than you can grasp. You feel torn, the familiar pull of Yuji clashing with the terrifying presence of Sukuna. There’s a part of you that wants to run, to escape whatever this is. But another part of you—the part that feels that flicker of recognition when he speaks, when he looks at you—keeps you frozen in place.
“I don’t…” you start, your voice faltering. “I don’t understand.”
Sukuna laughs again, that low, predatory sound that makes your stomach churn. “Of course you don’t. But you will, in time.” His eyes gleam with something dark and possessive. “I’m not going anywhere, little one. So you’ll have all the time in the world to remember.”
Your hands tremble at your sides, the fear still coursing through you, but now there’s something else. Something far more dangerous than fear—a curiosity, a pull you can’t explain. Even though you know you shouldn’t, you’re drawn to him, to the way his words tug at something deep inside you, something lost.
Sukuna takes another step closer, his presence overwhelming, his gaze never leaving yours. “And when you do remember,” he whispers, his voice dropping into something almost tender, “you’ll realize that it’s not this brat you mourn, little one.”
Your heart skips a beat, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You want to deny it, to push him away, to convince yourself that the darkness in Sukuna’s eyes holds no truth. But you can’t shake the unsettling feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a twisted truth in what he’s saying—something buried so deep inside you that it makes your skin prickle. And that terrifies you more than anything else at this moment.
“You have better memory than that.” His voice is smooth, a honeyed drawl that curls around you, laced with a sinister undertone. He steps closer, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, a heat that’s both inviting and suffocating. His breath brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself caught in his gaze—those scarlet eyes gleaming with an intensity that both captivates and horrifies you.
“Try to remember me.” he continues, the words dripping with a twisted sense of familiarity, a beckoning that both draws you in and repels you. There’s an almost playful cruelty in his tone, as if he knows the power he holds over you in this moment—knows that your heart is already torn, straddling the line between longing and fear.
You swallow hard, your throat dry as you grapple with the conflicting emotions swirling within you. The essence of Yuji—the boy who brought light and laughter into your life—now feels irreversibly entwined with the dark curse standing before you.
The memory of his warmth, his laughter, and his unwavering kindness feels like a distant dream, overshadowed by the reality of Sukuna’s presence. And yet, the way Sukuna looks at you, the way he carries himself, evokes echoes of the boy you loved. It’s confusing, maddening, and all-consuming.
“Don’t you want to know what’s buried inside you?” he taunts softly, leaning in even closer, as if sharing a secret only you can hear. “What really lies behind that grief? The truth of your feelings? Your past?”
You shudder at his words, feeling as though he’s reaching into the deepest corners of your mind, teasing out thoughts you’re not ready to confront. The idea of facing whatever remnants of Yuji’s essence are hidden within this creature, this manifestation of all your fears and sorrows, makes you want to flee. But the truth is, you’re caught in a web of curiosity and dread, tethered to the boy who once filled your heart.
“Stop it.” you whisper, your voice shaking. “You’re not him. You’re not Yuji.”
Sukuna chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates in the stillness around you. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I wear this brat’s face, little one. And I am here —whether you want to accept it or not.” His scarlet eyes bore into yours, a challenge lingering in the air. “And whether you like it or not, he’s a part of me too.”
The weight of his words settles heavily in your chest, a visceral truth that makes you want to scream. How could he say that? How could he twist the memory of Yuji into something so dark and cruel? But as you stand there, heart racing, you realize that he’s right in a way you’re terrified to explore. The grief you feel is a testament to the love you once shared, and now that love has taken on a new, twisted form.
As Sukuna’s presence looms over you, you feel the tension of this moment wrapping around you like a shroud. The air is thick with uncertainty, and you’re caught in a battle between wanting to retreat into safety and an insatiable desire to confront the truth lurking just beyond your grasp.
“Good night, little one.” he repeats, the command soothing and commanding all at once. “And when you wake, perhaps you’ll see things more clearly. I promise you, it will be… enlightening.”
With those final words, he steps back, allowing you to breathe again, but the weight of his gaze lingers. As he fades into the shadows, you’re left standing there, your heart pounding in your chest. The fear that grips you is palpable, but beneath it lies a flicker of curiosity—a yearning to understand what lies hidden within, to uncover the truths that connect you to both Yuji and Sukuna.
You know you should feel safe in your denial, but as you process everything, you realize that the only way forward is to confront this new reality. Whatever it takes, you have to know what Sukuna means, what truth lies within you, and what it might reveal about the love you lost and the monster that now stands in his place.
A THOUSAND YEARS HAD PASSED AND YET, HE THINKS A LOT ABOUT THAT LAST WISH. It was Ryomen Sukuna’s hope that you would not be reborn like this. After the years of misery he had put upon you, such loneliness and bitterness — this is not what you deserve. In the depths of his cursed heart, he had wished for you to have a better life—a life filled with warmth and love, a life free from the shadows that clung to him.
He had imagined a future where you would thrive, where your laughter would echo in the halls of a home filled with joy and not tied to the darkness he embodied. He wanted for your hope to come true, for you to carve out your own path, one that didn’t intertwine with his own cursed existence. So that you may be free from the cage of him, and fly away.
Yet, here you were, standing in the remnants of a life he had never wished for you. A life as a sorcerer, a role steeped in danger and darkness, where you faced the very curses he had once commanded. And most of all, you found yourself in adoration of his vessel, Itadori Yuji—the very embodiment of what Sukuna had wanted to keep separate from you.
Every day was a constant reminder of that bittersweet reality. You had grown to love the brat, the boy whose spirit shone brighter than anyone else’s, whose laughter brought light to the darkest corners of your heart. He had an infectious enthusiasm that made the world seem a little less heavy, a little less daunting. And now that he was alive, Ryomen Sukuna could only watch as you found the joy that he could not give you.
“Hey! Are you coming or what?” Yuji called out, his voice cutting through your thoughts. He stood a few paces ahead, hands on his hips, a bright smile lighting up his face. “I thought we were going to train today!”
You couldn’t help but smile back at him, your heart swelling at the sight of his excitement. “Yeah, I’m coming!” You jogged to catch up with him, the momentary rush of adrenaline distracting you from the weight of your thoughts.
As you fell into step beside him, you felt the warmth of his presence, the way he made the air around you feel lighter. “You really are too slow sometimes, you know?” he teased, nudging you playfully. “I mean, I know I’m faster, but you’ve gotta at least try to keep up!”
“Please!” you laughed, shaking your head. “You’ve been training longer than I have. I’m just trying not to trip over my own feet!” The banter flowed easily between you, but even in this moment of lightness, you couldn’t shake the nagging sense of Sukuna’s presence lurking just beneath the surface, a shadow that never quite left you.
“Speaking of tripping, you’re not going to freak out again when I show you that new move, are you?” Yuji’s expression turned mock-serious, eyebrows raised. “Because last time, I swear I thought you were going to lose your lunch!”
“Okay, that was one time! I told you I wasn’t ready for a backflip!” you protested, recalling the embarrassment of that training session where you’d ended up flat on your back. “Besides, you can’t just expect me to be a natural like you!”
Yuji laughed, the sound bubbling up from his chest and enveloping you like a warm embrace. “Hey, you’ve got potential! I mean, you did get back up after I knocked you down. That counts for something, right?”
His encouragement filled you with a warmth that momentarily pushed aside the darkness threatening to creep in. He was everything Sukuna had hoped you would find—kind, brave, and full of life. Itadori Yuji’s laughter echoed in your mind, a stark contrast to the chilling presence of the curse that loomed behind you, hidden yet always felt, a constant reminder of the complexities entangled in your heart.
Yet, in the depths of Sukuna’s being, a flicker of something unexpected stirred—a faint, bitter jealousy. He had often wondered if he had ever truly felt envy regarding the affection you held for that brat, as he so often referred to Yuji in his darker moments. A part of him questioned whether he was conscious of the pain he had caused you, the heartache that clung to your spirit like a shadow.
“Do you even understand what you’ve done to her?” he mused silently, as if you could hear him echoing in your mind.
There was an awareness in him, a recognition that you had somehow managed to love all of him, even the twisted, cursed side of his existence. Perhaps that was what stung the most—knowing that you had opened your heart to him and, in doing so, had become entwined in a relationship that was more chaotic than he had ever intended.
But even amid that jealousy, he had no regrets about his feelings for you. His love for Hiromi—the one who had filled his heart with warmth before darkness overtook him—remained unwavering.
That love had been pure and innocent, a light that could never be dimmed by the shadows he had embraced. He could not deny it, nor would he wish to. Yet now, watching from the sidelines, he felt an ache in his chest, a realization that he could never be the one to bring you that same joy.
In the quiet corners of his mind, he harbored a secret wish—a hope that he could have made you smile like this. So vibrantly, so free of grief. A happiness so clear that one could see it gleam in your eyes, untainted by the complexities of his existence. The laughter you shared with Yuji resonated in a way that he could only dream of, a melody of innocence that felt forever out of his reach.
“What would it take?” he pondered, the thought lingering like a ghost. Would he ever be able to evoke such joy? Or was he forever condemned to dwell in the shadows of what he could never be?
Sukuna’s thoughts spiraled, twisting through memories of moments shared with you—soft smiles, fleeting touches, and the warmth of your laughter that once danced around him like sunlight. The contrast was stark; he had only ever known how to wield darkness, to embrace fear and chaos, while Yuji seemed to thrive in the light. The way you looked at Yuji, filled with admiration and affection, was a dagger in his chest, a poignant reminder of the connection he could never replicate.
Yet, in that moment of reflection, a different feeling began to take root—a deep, abiding wish for your happiness. Perhaps the greatest act of love he could offer you now was to allow you to chase that joy, even if it meant stepping aside, relinquishing his hold on your heart. You deserve every ounce of happiness, unencumbered by his darkness.
As you stood there, laughing freely, the shadows that had haunted him felt a little less suffocating. He knew he could not change who he was, nor could he rewrite the past, but perhaps he could shift his focus from his own pain to the happiness that blossomed in front of him. He wanted to see you flourish, to break free from the chains of sorrow he had inadvertently wrapped around you.
“Thanks, Yuji. I really appreciate that.” you said, your voice softer, the sincerity in your tone catching his attention. Your face flustered and shy. It was a face Sukuna had never seen from you.
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. We’re friends, right?” His eyes sparkled with genuine warmth, but beneath that, you could feel a hint of concern lurking. “You know, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me. We’re a team.”
You paused for a moment, the gravity of his words settling over you. Sukuna knew that you wanted to share your fears—he could see it in the way your lips parted but never released a sound, in the slight tremble of your hands as they hovered between reaching out and retreating. It was written all over your face, the tension in your furrowed brow, the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. Sukuna knew you too well, after all the years you'd lived together. He understood every unspoken word, every hesitation, even when you couldn’t bring yourself to voice your thoughts.
But this time, things were different. You didn’t remember any of it—not the life he had spoken of, not the shared moments he swore existed. The memories he claimed you both cherished were nothing but a void to you, a distant fog where nothing came into focus. Sukuna knew that too. He wasn’t oblivious to the confusion in your expression whenever he spoke of the past you shared. You couldn’t recall the way your lives had intertwined so deeply, and that lack of recollection gnawed at you just as much as it pained him.
And yet, despite your lack of memory, despite the blank slate that your mind had become, Sukuna still knew you. He could sense the turmoil bubbling within you, the words that remained trapped in your throat.
They were right there, on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be released, but fear held you back. What if speaking those fears out loud made them real? What if your confusion, your lack of memories, created a rift between you that couldn’t be mended?
Sukuna’s gaze never wavered from you. His usual harshness softened, if only slightly, as if silently urging you to speak. He understood that what you were facing was beyond your control, but he wanted you to know that he was still there, that he would wait. No matter how long it took for you to find your voice, to trust him again—even if the memories never returned—Sukuna wasn’t going anywhere.
“I… I’m fine, Yu.” you finally replied, forcing a smile. “Just a lot on my mind, you know? Training always helps clear it up.”
“Alright, but I’ll be here if you need me,” he said, his tone earnest, making your heart ache at the kindness in his eyes. “We’ll figure it out together, I promise.”
As you walked alongside him, the weight of Sukuna’s presence felt more like a lingering shadow, a reminder of your complicated reality. That was very much obvious to him. The joy you found in the brat’s company was intoxicating, but it was intertwined with the fear of what Sukuna represented—a darkness that loomed over everything you cherished.
But in that moment, as the brat’s laughter filled the air, you resolved to focus on what you could control. You would embrace the light he brought into your life, even if it meant wrestling with the shadows of the past. For now, you would fight alongside him, a sorcerer in your own right, finding strength in your love for him and the hope that one day, the shadows would fade into something less consuming.
“Okay, enough talking! Let’s go!” Yuji said, breaking you from your thoughts as he took off, racing ahead. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound spilling out of you, bright and free, as you chased after him, if only for a moment forgetting the weight of the curse that loomed over your life.
You had become a sorcerer not merely to fight curses, but to protect what you had come to cherish. It was a decision that had grown within you over time, shaped by your encounters and the people you had come to love. You weren’t driven by blind heroism or reckless ambition.
No, it was about preserving the bonds that had become precious to you, about standing your ground in a world where curses threatened the very fabric of those connections. But this choice—this path—you had taken wasn’t what Sukuna had ever wanted for you.
Sukuna never believed in foolish ideals like heroism or self-sacrifice. To him, they were weaknesses, things that would only lead you into harm's way. And that was what unsettled him most. He hadn’t fought for you, protected you, only to see you willingly step into danger for others. In your past life, things were different.
He had kept you safe, shielded you from the horrors that roamed the world. Under his watch, you didn't need to lift a finger. You were his to protect, a treasure he wouldn’t allow the world to tarnish.
But now, things had changed, and not in ways he could easily control. A part of him resented the world you had been pulled into—a world filled with curses, death, and peril. He especially resented the boy. Itadori Yuji.
Ryomen Sukuna had watched it happen—watched as Itadori had unknowingly nudged you towards the life of a sorcerer. It wasn’t malicious on Yuji’s part. The boy had only meant to encourage you, to bring out a strength he saw in you. But to Sukuna, that encouragement was nothing more than an invitation to danger. Yuji had no idea what he'd set in motion. And Sukuna couldn’t forgive him for that.
In your past life, Sukuna had made sure you were safe. There had been no need for you to risk yourself in battle or face the horrors of the world head-on. He had taken care of everything. You didn’t need to be strong; you didn’t need to fight. That was his role—to crush anyone who threatened you, to be the shield that protected you from harm. It was his way of keeping you close, of ensuring you never had to suffer.
But now, standing in this new life, all he could do was wonder—how could this brat, this boy, possibly take care of you? How could he, with his limited power and naive ideals, protect you the way Sukuna once had? It infuriated Sukuna to think that Yuji believed he could guide you in this treacherous world, when in reality, he was the one who had exposed you to its dangers in the first place.
Ryomen Sukuna clenched his fists, his thoughts simmering with frustration. You had been safe before, with him. But now, he feared that this world of curses you had chosen—this world where you now stood alongside Yuji and the others—would one day rip you away from him. And Sukuna wasn't sure he could bear that.
Sukuna felt a twisted sense of validation in the aftermath of Shibuya. It had been him—not Yuji, not any of your so-called allies—who had saved your life when everything went to hell. The moment the curses descended, the city had become a chaotic battlefield, one where even the strongest sorcerers struggled to hold their ground. But not him. Not Sukuna.
He had watched it unfold, his sharp gaze tracking the danger closing in on you, and in that split second, everything he had warned against crystallized. The fragility of your humanity, the danger you had willingly embraced—it all came to a head.
You had faced curses far beyond what you should have been dealing with. It was the recklessness, the vulnerability, the need to prove yourself as a sorcerer that had led you to the brink of death. And for what? To protect others? To fight alongside those who weren’t worthy of your devotion?
In that critical moment, when you had been on the verge of being overwhelmed, it wasn’t Yuji or any of the other sorcerers who had come to your aid. It was Sukuna. His power had surged through the chaos, his strength unmatched, obliterating the curse that had dared to lay its hand on you.
He had kept you from being crushed, from the fate that would have surely claimed you had he not intervened. The irony wasn’t lost on him—that in the midst of this world you had chosen, it was still his power that protected you, not the one you had turned to.
Sukuna could almost laugh at how right he had been. Your decision to become a sorcerer, your reliance on others to protect you—it had all crumbled in the face of reality.
In your past life, you had never needed to face this kind of danger, because he had kept you safe. It had been him who ensured your safety, him who made sure the world’s darkness never touched you. And now, in this life, despite everything that had changed, the outcome was still the same: you needed him to survive.
He hated to admit it, but a part of him reveled in the fact that you couldn’t escape his grasp. The boy, Yuji, had tried—tried to pull you into a world where you could stand on your own, where you didn’t need to rely on Ryomen Sukuna’s power.
But Shibuya had proven otherwise. The truth was undeniable: there was no escaping the fact that Sukuna was, and always would be, the one who kept you alive.
His crimson eyes lingered on you as you lay unconscious, the aftermath of the battle leaving you battered and bruised. He crouched beside you, his expression unreadable.
There was no warmth in his gaze, no affection—only a sense of possession. A sense of knowing that you were a part of him. Whether in this life or the last, it didn’t matter. The world could change, your memories could fade, but the fact remained: Sukuna had saved you, and he always would. No one else could protect you the way he could, and in the end, he was the only one who truly understood that.
"You see now, don’t you, little one?" he murmured, his voice low, almost to himself. "No matter how far you run, no matter what life you choose, you’ll always come back to this. To me."
There was a finality in his words, a certainty that rang through the empty streets of Shibuya. In his eyes, this moment only reinforced the bond between you, one forged not out of love, but out of necessity, out of survival. And though you may never remember the life you once shared, Sukuna knew that as long as you walked this path, you would always need him.
And then, in the stillness after the battle, Sukuna froze.
A pulse of cursed energy rippled through the air, faint but unmistakable. It was old, ancient even, yet familiar in a way that twisted something deep inside him. For the first time in a thousand years, Sukuna felt her presence. Hiromi.
Sukuna's mind recoiled from the realization, the pulse of cursed energy stirring something long-buried within him. The sensation clawed at him—ancient, familiar, undeniable.
Hiromi.
His heart, or what remained of it, twisted with an emotion he hadn't felt in centuries. He had thought it impossible.
But there it was, a presence like a faint echo that had finally resurfaced after a thousand years. His eyes narrowed, scanning the distance as if he could pinpoint the exact location of the cursed energy.
Without hesitation, his body moved on instinct, the need to chase after that familiar presence overwhelming him. He didn’t even spare a glance back at you. The urgency consumed him. You’ll be fine, he thought to himself. You were unconscious, battered but alive—safe, for now.
“Uraume.” His voice was cold and commanding, cutting through the still air. Almost immediately, Uraume appeared at his side, their faces calm and collected, as if they anticipated his order even before he had spoken it.
“Sukuna-sama.” Uraume bowed slightly, eyes flicking toward your limp form lying on the ground.
“Take care of them for me.” Sukuna instructed, his tone flat, devoid of emotion. It was an order, not a request. His eyes were already fixed on the horizon, his mind far from the present moment.
Uraume nodded without question. “Understood.”
With that, Sukuna turned his back on you, his form disappearing into the distance with terrifying speed. You were unconscious, vulnerable, but he left you without hesitation. Because even now, after everything, it wasn’t you that occupied his thoughts. Not fully. Not entirely.
As the wind whipped past him, his mind raced, trying to process the flood of emotions that came with sensing Hiromi’s energy after so long. It felt like an eternity since he had last known that presence—familiar yet distant, like a memory from another life. He clenched his fists, the anticipation mounting as he closed in on the source of the cursed energy.
But beneath the rush of adrenaline, Sukuna felt something else, something darker—guilt. It was fleeting, barely noticeable, but it was there, nagging at the edges of his mind. He knew he was a hypocrite.
He had kept you by his side, held you close, and claimed you as part of his world. You had become entangled in his existence, and yet, despite everything, despite the way he protected you, he could never love you. Not in the way you might have wanted. Not in the way that mattered.
Because love had always been reserved for someone else.
Hiromi.
The name echoed in his mind, sharp and clear. Hiromi had been everything to him in a way that transcended time. Even after a thousand years, Sukuna could feel it—that deep, consuming affection that had once tied him to Hiromi like a chain. He didn’t need to question it, didn’t need to doubt. Hiromi was the one he loved, the one he would always love. That had never changed.
And yet, as he chased after the familiar energy, a dark, bitter thought rose in his mind. He had kept you close for so long, but not out of love. It had been care, yes, concern even—but not love. You were valuable to him, a piece of his life that he refused to let the world destroy. But love? No, that was something you would never receive from him. That part of his heart had been taken long ago.
He didn’t regret it. Not for a second.
As he raced toward the source of Hiromi’s energy, Sukuna's lips curled into a slight, dangerous smile.
“Hiromi…” he whispered under his breath, a mixture of longing and hunger in his voice. “After all these years, you still haunt me.”
The urgency in his steps betrayed his growing anticipation, but beneath that, another feeling simmered. A strange unease. Sukuna knew what this meant—what it would mean for him, for you, for everything. He was a hypocrite, and he knew it all too well.
He had spent lifetimes keeping you close, ensuring your safety, binding you to him with his strength. He claimed you as his, possessed you in a way that transcended time and memory. He protected you, watched over you, but love? No, love had never been part of the equation.
Sukuna was no fool. He cared for you, yes. There was a connection, a bond that had grown stronger over time. But it wasn’t love, not in the way most would understand. He knew that. It had always been about control, about ensuring that you remained part of his world, tethered to him by the invisible threads of fate.
You had chosen a path filled with danger, and he had allowed it, begrudgingly, because he didn’t want to lose you. But he did not love you. Not in the way that mattered. Not in the way that consumed him.
That kind of love was reserved for someone else. Hiromi.
The name reverberated in his mind like an old song, the memory of a time long past. Hiromi had been the one he loved, truly loved. The one who had held his heart, back when he had one. The connection between them was something deeper, something far more potent than what he had with you. It was raw and ancient, a passion that transcended lifetimes.
Ryomen Hiromi had been his equal, the one who had understood him in ways no one else ever could. And now, after centuries, Hiromi’s cursed energy was stirring again, calling out to him across time.
Sukuna felt the sharp contrast between what he had with you and what he had once shared with Hiromi. You were his, yes—but in a way that was almost pragmatic, transactional. He cared for you, protected you because you were his responsibility, someone he would never let the world destroy. But it wasn’t the kind of love that set his soul ablaze. Not like Hiromi had.
And that truth didn’t bother him. He didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret holding you close while reserving his deepest, truest love for Hiromi. That was how it was meant to be. You and Hiromi occupied different places in his life, and that was something he had long accepted.
As he sped through the streets of Shibuya, his mind was a storm of thoughts. He knew he was leaving you behind, abandoning you without a second thought to chase the echo of someone he had lost long ago. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself. The pull was too strong, the memory of Hiromi too powerful to resist. You were safe. That’s all that mattered.
But Hiromi… Hiromi was everything.
Sukuna knew, with absolute certainty, that no matter what he had with you, it would never compare to what he had with Hiromi. And he didn’t need it to. He didn’t want it to. He had spent a thousand years in the shadow of that love, and now, with Hiromi’s cursed energy suddenly awakening, all he could think about was reclaiming what had been his—what had always been his.
As Sukuna moved through the city, his chest tightened with anticipation. He was a hypocrite, yes, but he had no regrets. He would protect you, care for you, but the fire that burned within him was for Hiromi alone. You were never meant to hold his heart—not the way Hiromi did. And for that, Sukuna was unapologetic.
This was who he was. This was who he had always been.
Meanwhile, Uraume knelt beside your unconscious form, their expression unreadable as they gently lifted you into their arms. They glanced in the direction Sukuna had disappeared, their lips tightening slightly.
"Always leaving." Uraume muttered quietly, more to themselves than to you. They knew better than anyone what Sukuna was chasing, and why he hadn’t hesitated to leave. "It’s never enough, is it?"
They looked down at you, a strange softness entering their gaze.
"You’re fortunate he cares for you as much as he does." Uraume added quietly, though the words felt hollow. Because they knew, just as you might someday come to realize—Sukuna’s heart belonged to someone else, someone from long ago.
And no one would ever replace that.
HE HAD NOT REMEMBERED WHAT HE THOUGHT THE FIRST TIME HE DIED. But this time around, he did. As Ryomen Sukuna lay on the ground, his once-imposing form crumbling, the weight of his own mortality pressing down on him for the first time in centuries, he felt something stir in the space around him. A soft, familiar presence, like a breeze carrying the scent of a life long forgotten. It was not a presence he had ever felt in a long time.
He opened his eyes, and there you were. Your past self, standing before him as though summoned by the final moments of his life. You were just as he remembered, yet different—there was a lightness in your eyes, a peace he hadn’t seen in so long. And as you approached, there was no anger, no bitterness, no pain. You smiled at him. A gentle, almost wistful smile, as though all the years of cruelty, all the darkness that had passed between you, had never existed.
“Sukuna–sama.” you greeted softly, your voice carrying an odd tenderness, as though you were greeting an old friend.
He stared at you, confused, his chest tight with an unfamiliar emotion. The weight of his sins, the centuries of violence, grief, pain and manipulation—all of it should have driven you away. And yet here you were, standing before him, smiling as if nothing had ever been wrong. As if he had never hurt you. As if you hadn’t hated him for it.
“You’re really here….little one.” Sukuna rasped, his voice rough, but there was a vulnerability in it he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a thousand years. “After everything...you’re still here?”
You nodded, kneeling down beside him, your gaze soft but resolute. “I’m here, Sukuna–sama. But we both know this is the end, don’t we?”
He grunted, dark scarlet eyes flickering with both amusement and bitterness. “So it seems.” He paused, the weight of what was to come settling in. “And now what? What happens next? You’ve come to watch me die, little one?
You shook your head gently, your expression unchanged. “No. I came to say goodbye.”
A silence stretched between you both, heavy and profound. Ryomen Sukuna’s breath grew more labored, the energy draining from him faster now. His dark eyes never left yours, trying to read you, to understand what this moment meant. You were supposed to go wherever he was, you would follow. Words were wind and yet, your actions — they said other things.
“Goodbye, huh?” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And what am I supposed to do with that? After everything…after all these years, little one?”
You hesitated, looking down at your hands before meeting his gaze once more. “I need you to let me go, Sukuna–sama.”
Sukuna’s eyes darkened. “Let you go? I’ve kept you for a reason, little one. You’ve been mine for longer than either of us can remember.”
You exhaled softly, shaking your head. “Not anymore. Not this time.I can’t love you like this, Sukuna–sama. Not like I did before. That love—it’s gone.”
His jaw tightened, a spark of anger flashing in his eyes. “And why is that? Because of him? Because of that brat?”
He didn’t need to say the name. You both knew who he meant.
You didn’t flinch. “Yes. I love Yuji now. I had…I had been reborn now, Sukuna–sama. He’s who I’ve chosen. He’s who I am in this life. And I want to be happy, Sukuna–sama. Truly happy.”
Sukuna scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “Happy, huh? That’s what you want?”
You nodded, your voice soft but firm. “You always said you wanted that for me, didn’t you? You kept me close because you said you wanted me safe. But I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want to be bound to something that doesn’t exist—something that’s only pain and emptiness.”
Sukuna was silent for a long moment, his breath shallow, his eyes narrowing as he stared up at the sky. “So that’s it then? After everything, you’re just going to walk away?” His voice was laced with bitterness, but beneath it, there was something else—a resignation, an understanding that this was inevitable.
You reached out, gently taking his hand. The gesture surprised him, and for the first time in a long time, Sukuna didn’t pull away.
“I want to let you go, Sukuna–sama.” you said softly. “But I need you to let me go too. So we can both be free.”
His eyes flickered with something unspoken, a quiet turmoil that even he didn’t fully understand. For so long, he had kept you tethered to him, not out of love but possession, out of the need to control, to keep you as part of his world. And now, here you were, asking him to release you from the very chains he had forged. Asking to be separated from you, forever.
“You think it’s that easy?” Sukuna whispered, his voice hoarse. “After everything we’ve been through, after all the years…”
“No, no.” you replied gently, a small ghostly smile on your face. “It's not easy. I know that much. But it’s what needs to happen. We’ve both held on for too long. You and I—we’re not meant to be like this anymore.”
Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, he saw something he had long since forgotten. The softness, the kindness in your gaze—the person you had once been before all of this. And he knew, deep down, that you were right.
He had kept you close out of fear. Fear of losing the one thing in his life that had ever mattered, the one of the very few people who had ever made him feel something beyond the void of his existence. But you were no longer his, and he was no longer yours. It was never meant to be. He knew that from the beginning.
With a deep, labored breath, Sukuna closed his eyes, his grip on your hand loosening. “Fine, little one.” he rasped. “Go. Be with him. Be happy. It’s what you want, right?”
A tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled at him, the sadness in your eyes mixed with a profound sense of peace. “Thank you, Sukuna–sama.”
For a moment, you both sat in silence, the weight of all those years of history between you. And then, quietly, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He lets the warmth echo through his flesh. He didn’t want you to let go, he didn’t want you to leave him. And yet, he had to let you go.
“Goodbye, Sukuna–sama.” you whispered. “Be free. Choose your path too.”
With that, you stood up, turning away from the man who had once held your heart, leaving him to the twilight of his life. You didn’t look back as you walked away, knowing that this was the end of one chapter, and the beginning of another. You will never find each other again.
Ryomen Sukuna watched you go, his vision fading, a strange mix of regret and relief flooding through him. He had let you go, and in doing so, perhaps, for the first time in his long, twisted life, he had let himself go too.
IT WAS ODD, THIS PLACE. And it was where all souls go. At least that’s what his father used to say to him. Sukuna had not believed it then. But here is the proof. Here is the truth. The path of souls stretched endlessly before him, an ethereal twilight where time held no meaning and silence enveloped the realm.
Ryomen Sukuna’s hand held firmly to Uraume’s own, though Uraume’s presence beside him was faint, as if they too were fading into the beyond. Uraume, after all, was too young to understand it all yet.
And he didn’t want to distress them. His crimson eyes scanned the surreal landscape, not for the first time wondering what came next. Death had always been an abstract concept for someone like him—feared by others, but never himself. Yet here he was, on this path, somewhere between existence and oblivion.
He felt a pull, a presence just ahead, and as they walked, familiar figures began to emerge in the mist. Among them, Mahito lounges carelessly, his usual playful smile twisted with curiosity as he looks over at Sukuna.
“Well, well,” Mahito said with a chuckle, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Sukuna?”
Sukuna glanced at Mahito, but his eyes were drawn past him, pulled to a figure he hadn’t expected to see again in this realm. Hiromi.
Hiromi stood a few paces away, her form illuminated by the soft glow of the path. Her presence was calm, unwavering, as though the centuries of separation between them had not dulled the bond that once existed. She smiled at him—a small, knowing smile, one that held both understanding and a quiet challenge.
"It’s been a long time." you said, your voice cutting through the haze of memories that clouded his mind. You had appeared beside Mahito, your eyes softer now than when you last spoke to Sukuna.
It had been a lifetime ago—literally. But here, in the land between worlds, there was no more need for pretense. It had been so long since you both had been truly honest with one another.
Sukuna’s expression softened slightly, though his sharp edges remained. He wasn’t one for sentimentality, and yet, standing here, he felt something stir within him. He inclined his head to you, acknowledging your presence, but his gaze drifted back to Hiromi.
“Hiromi.” he said with a quiet intensity, his voice lower than usual, almost…reverent. Uraume, sensing the moment, quietly stepped back, releasing his hand.
Hiromi stepped forward, her dark eyes locked onto Sukuna’s. She looked just as she had the last time he had seen her, centuries ago. The weight of their shared past hung in the air between them, unspoken but ever-present.
“It’s been too long….Sukuna.” Hiromi said softly, her voice carrying a quiet warmth. She looked at him with that same measured calm, though there was something in her eyes, something that had been left unsaid for far too long.
Sukuna remained silent for a moment, taking in the sight of her. He had never been a man to reflect on his emotions, to consider the consequences of his actions beyond immediate gratification or power. But here, now, on the path of souls, stripped of the pretenses of life, there was a clarity he couldn’t ignore.
“What path will you walk, Sukuna?” Hiromi asked, her voice steady but soft, as though she already knew the answer.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sukuna smiled—a small, almost imperceptible curve of his lips. It wasn’t the predatory grin he was known for, but something quieter, something…honest.
“A path with you.” he answered, his voice carrying the weight of every century that had passed. There was no hesitation in his words, no mask to hide behind. Here, in this liminal space, he could admit what had always been true. “Even if there will be nothing between us.”
Hiromi’s smile deepened, though her eyes were tinged with something bittersweet. “Even if there’s nothing?”
Sukuna held her gaze, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I was bound to you the moment I met you. You know that too well, don’t you?”
His words were simple, but they carried the weight of a lifetime—perhaps several lifetimes—of unspoken truths. He had never been one to voice such sentiments, not in life, not when there was always another battle, another conquest, another way to assert his dominance over the world. But here, stripped of all that power, all that ambition, there was only the truth.
Hiromi’s eyes softened, and she reached out, her hand brushing lightly against his. The touch was fleeting, but it was enough. She didn’t need to say anything; the silence between them spoke volumes.
Mahito chuckled softly behind them, amused by the display but wise enough not to interrupt. “So, Sukuna…..” he teased back. “Even a human curse has your attachments, huh?”
Sukuna shot him a glare, but there was no real malice in it. “And what of it?” he muttered, though his usual venom was absent.
Hiromi gave a small laugh, shaking her head at Mahito before returning her attention to Sukuna. “It’s not attachments that hold you down.” she said softly, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the path around them. “It’s what you choose to carry.”
“And what are you carrying?” Sukuna asked, his voice quieter now, the question more personal than he’d intended.
Hiromi’s eyes held his, the connection between them clear and unbreakable, even in this world of shadows and souls. “Only what I choose. And now, I choose peace.”
She let her hand fall from his, the warmth of the touch lingering between them. The path stretched out before them, infinite and unknown, but somehow, less daunting with her beside him. It was just like back then. When they were together. Happy. At peace.
Sukuna nodded, a rare understanding passing between them. He had been many things in his life—cruel, selfish, a god of calamity—but here, now, there was only one thing that mattered.
“I’ll walk with you then.” he said, his voice firm. He looks at Uraume. “Both of us will.”
Hiromi smiled, the kind of smile that held centuries of history, of pain, of love, and of letting go. “Then let’s walk together.” she said simply.
And for the first time in a thousand years, Ryomen Sukuna felt something other than hunger, other than rage. He felt…whole.
epilogue
You and Yuji were crouched behind a row of bushes, peeking over the top like kids playing hide and seek. Except, instead of hiding from a grumpy neighbor, you were hiding from a low-grade curse that looked like a giant, angry turnip.
"Okay, so what’s the plan?" Yuji whispered, his face way too serious for someone talking about vegetable-based curses.
"I was thinking... you distract it, and I’ll sneak around and exorcise it fully." you replied, glancing at the turnip monster, which seemed to be getting more agitated by the second.
"Alright, alright. I got it." Yuji said with a determined nod. Then, after a beat of silence, he looked back at you, his usual playful grin sneaking onto his face. "You know, we make a pretty good team….They were right to assign us together for missions, hm?”
You chuckled softly, feeling your heart skip a beat despite the fact that this was the least romantic setting possible. "We do, don't we? Not many people can take on turnip monsters with such finesse."
Yuji grinned, then cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey, uh, while we’re on the topic of being a good team, there's... there's something I’ve been wanting to say."
Your eyes widened a little, curiosity and nervousness stirring in your chest. "What is it?"
"Well, it's just... I like being around you. Genuinely…..It’s….I just….I like…I like spending time with you." Yuji said, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a little pink. "Like, a lot. More than just the 'let's-fight-curses-together' way."
Your heart started racing, and you could feel your face getting warm. "I... I feel the same way." you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady even though your insides were doing cartwheels. "I’ve liked you for a while, actually."
Yuji blinked in surprise, then broke into the brightest, most ridiculous smile you’d ever seen. "Wait, really? Do you like me? Like, like me?"
You nodded, biting back a grin. "Yeah, I like you. A lot."
For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, grinning like idiots, the turnip curse temporarily forgotten. Laughter echoes from Yuji and then you, and all at once, there was some harmony. The peace that you both had been craving to have. The joy that comes with being together.
"Man, I should’ve told you sooner!" Yuji said, looking like he was about to burst with happiness. "We could’ve been doing all this curse-fighting and dating at the same time!"
You laughed, your nerves fading as the warmth of the moment settled over you. "Better late than never, right?"
Yuji nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! And now that we’ve got that out of the way, I say we finish off this turnip monster and then—"
Suddenly, the turnip curse let out a loud, disgruntled roar, reminding you both that, yes, you were still on a mission.
"Right, curse first, dating later," Yuji said quickly, scrambling to his feet. "Let’s do this!"
In a blur of movement, Yuji launched himself at the turnip, giving you the perfect opening to come around the side. With a swift, precise strike, you exorcised the curse, watching it dissolve into nothing.
Yuji jogged back over to you, grinning. "See? Told you we’re a good team."
You smiled back, feeling a rush of affection for him. "Yeah, we are. And from now on, we’ll be a good team together—on missions and in life."
Yuji’s smile softened, his brown eyes locking with yours in a way that made your heart flutter. "I like the sound of that," he said, his voice a little quieter but full of warmth.
You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Come what may, right?"
"Right." Yuji agreed, squeezing your hand gently. "No matter what happens, I want to be by your side. Happy. Together."
And with that, the two of you stood there, hand in hand, as the remnants of the curse faded into the wind, feeling lighter than ever—ready to face whatever came next, as long as it was together.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x reader#itadori yuji#yuji itadori#yuji#itadori yuji x you#itadori yuji x reader#yuji itadori x y/n#yuji itadori x reader#yuji x you#yuji x reader#yuji x y/n#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji x you
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i like how almost all my cooking injuries are just little diagonal nicks on the sides and tops of my fingers and then there's this one that's like "HORiZONTAL LINE ACROSS THE BOTTOM OF YOUR FINGER. LOOKS LIKE PENCIL. FEELS LIKE A BRUISE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF YOUR FINGER. DEAL WITH IT MF"
#red rambles#that was not. a good cut LMAO i was seriously worried id need stitches#im still worried it mightve cut something important. feels like ive lost sensation in part of that finger#but it sealed up on its own so its fine :)))
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sharing my opinion here about serizawas design inconsistencies over time (spoilers for mp100 ending) i feel like in each new rendition of serizawa weve seen in official art ever since the start of S3 something feels off in a different way with every new merch release
lets start here ⬇ serizawa looks like,, himself. accurate to how hes drawn since his first anime appearance
⬇⬇⬇ and then slowly,,, things start to look off. his jawline is slowly getting slimmer, his eyes look wider (same with mobs too)
AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THESE. especially the one on the right my god. who is that
every new promo art that comes out just feels very careless. I think you could say so for all the characters (mobs giant eyes, reigens waist getting skinnier/pointier features. the PROMO art of dimple that was literally FULLY TRACED OFF OF A TEMU PIRATE HALLOWEEN COSTUME. they all look bad here)
it just feels a little depressing how little they seem to care anymore, like theyre just trying to pump out merch without bothering to use a character reference.
i notice the changes the most with serizawa. every promo art looks like theyre playing a game of telephone. each version of him is based on the last, instead of his initial design (shown below)
at the end of S2, when reigen cuts serizawas hair, he still looks like himself. they did a great job of showing "how serizawa would look underneath his moustache and big hair". In S3 it feels like they've lost that mentality completely. like he's no longer based off of his original design, but an entirely new reference of his salary man look. some comparisons between S3 vs S2 and OVA down below
I find that the line weight in S3 is much heavier and unfocused. but what bothers me most of all is that... Serizawa looks different in nearly every scene... as if they're undecided on what he should look like. the shape of his nose and jaw, his hair all change depending on the episode entirely.
The art style change for S3 was meant to be "more accurate to the manga", but I find that it had the opposite effect. especially how serizawas and ritsus eye shapes changed. ritsus large pupils and serizawas more almond shaped eyes were more reflective of their manga designs there are plenty of inconsistences in S1 and 2, but they're clearly done with purpose to reflect on ONEs art style (my beloved). I feel like the thinner lines allow more room for detail and extreme facial expressions that truly hold a candle to ONEs insane talent for capturing emotions.
these ^^^ compared to..
erm.. this.. ⬇
just felt very underwhelming... and serizawa certainly does mellow out once he starts working at S&S, but that doesn't mean that there's less opportunity for detailed expressions !!
the yokai fight scene was beautifully made i have no qualms.. but the amount of serizawa lore and dialogue in the manga that got cut from the anime just made him look like a cardboard cut out standing behind everyone. lots of funny and interesting moments cut to make room for the moefication of serizawa katsuya..
I feel like there's a lot of important moments that were cut, (reigen "i hope i can become a partner like that" arataka, serizawa "ive had a similar experience myself" katsuya )
or sad, intense scenes that were made lighthearted (the body improvement club trying to help mob, mob and ??? dialogue being cut, reigen removing his shoes in the final arc made to be meant for better grip rather than... his passively suicidal tendencies )
i think the people at bones are very talented dont get me wrong, i just felt like S3 could have been adapted better. this keeps me up at night its like 1am :) anywhosies thank you for listening to my ted talk i love you
#make everyone a little uglier again. my message#rudies ted talks#mp100#serizawa katsuya#serizawa#kameda come back for reigen ova my love
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♥︎Pick a picture: 🐇🩵What guides do you want to hear right now?🩵🐇
•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3
❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️
✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!
🩵If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🩵
🐇Masterlist🐇
🩵Pile 1: Queen of Swords, Ace of Swords and 4 of Pentacles.
It is essential that you start to trust yourself more. You have incredible potential that can take you far and help you achieve all those dreams you long for. However, sometimes you put obstacles in your way that prevent you from moving forward. It is time for you to realize that those limits are only mental and that you can overcome them.
Take a moment to clear your mind and focus on what you really want to achieve. If you put in the effort and work hard, you will see that you can achieve your goals. But it is also essential that you believe in your abilities and talents. Self-confidence is key to being able to show the world what you can really offer.
You have a personality that can shine and attract others, you just need to put aside those doubts that hold you back. Instead of getting stuck in your thoughts, start embracing your charisma and showing it without fear. Remember that you have everything you need to succeed, so go ahead, you can do it!
🩵Song:
🪻Pile 2: The Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles and 2 of Wands.
There are a lot of positive things coming your way. All the hard work you've been doing is going to pay off, so don't get discouraged. It's normal to feel a little frustrated or exhausted right now, but it's important to keep an optimistic attitude, because what you've been wanting so much is just around the corner.
You will achieve great things and people around you will notice. However, it's essential that you stay grounded and don't forget your roots. Humbleness is key on this path, and remember that every step you take brings you closer to your goals. Your effort and dedication will not go unnoticed, and that's something you should celebrate. You have a voice that resonates strongly and has the potential to inspire many. I'm sure you'll soon see the impact you can have on others, and it may be sooner than you imagine. So keep going, keep faith in yourself and your abilities, because the best is yet to come and you deserve to enjoy every moment of this journey.
🪻Song:
🎀Pile 3: King of Cups, Knight of Pentacles and 3 of Cups.
It's time for you to take a break and celebrate everything you've achieved so far. It's essential that you find a space of calm in your life, where you can focus on the here and now. You may feel a little confused right now, as if you're not clear about where you're going, but in reality, that's part of the process. Life has its ups and downs, and sometimes, getting a little lost is what allows us to rediscover our path.
I feel that taking advantage of these moments of calm can be very. It is in these moments of reflection that you can connect with your true desires and passions, discovering what really motivates you and what you want to do throughout your life. So, instead of worrying about what is to come, allow yourself to enjoy this journey of self-discovery and personal growth.
Remember that not everything has to be resolved immediately. Sometimes, answers come when we least expect them, and situations tend to fall into place naturally. So relax and trust that everything will fall into. Enjoy every step you take, every small achievement, and don't worry so much about the future; the important thing is to live in the present and learn from every experience that comes your way.
🎀Song:
🩵🐇Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 🐇🩵
#astrology placements#zodiac#astro community#astrology#astro blog#astro notes#astro news#astro observations#tarot reading#tarot cards#tarot and astrology#tarot witch#tarot spread#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#tarot tumblr#tarot#pick a picture#pick a photo#pick a pile#pick a card#pick an image#pac readings#pac tarot#paid tarot readings#paid services#tarot tips#pic a card reading#pick one#channeled messages
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Voicemail
A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series
{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: T
Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.
Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.
As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.
Word count: 1.8k
Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.
Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.
After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it.
It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.
It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.
And he keeps it all these years.
He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack.
If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.
And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s.
With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.
Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.
The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun.
Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.
Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.
Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.
Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’
‘Just a second!’ you call back.
Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best.
It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening.
Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.
‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’
You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’
‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’
‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’
‘Try me.’
Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.
When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’
He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’
You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’
You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him.
Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’
He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’
Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’
Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.
‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.
Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’
‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.
It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.
The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.
Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.
Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either.
He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.
It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.
One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.
Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.
Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.
The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.
There’s no putting it off forever.
In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.
He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.
In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.
Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.
He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins.
Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.
The battery sign appears on the screen.
Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.
It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.
1 NEW VOICEMAIL.
He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.
It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.
He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -
He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.
He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -
Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -
And everything goes white.
When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.
He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.
You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.
It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no.
Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.
But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.
‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’
As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.
More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️
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