#love you guys to infinity and beyond <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[pollenallergie]

thank you to everyone who reached out to me/commented on my post yesterday!! it really warmed my heart! i’m sorry i never got around to responding to any of you directly, but between my lack of sleep and all the shit that went down yesterday, the words having really been wording lately. but i want you all to know that i really appreciated it!! <3

[katiekatdragon27]

Guys what is this book and what is the Bill on it? All I know is gay shapes-

A. Sphere: I'm not calling you "Good Boy" A. Square, that court case was SHIT.

Me earlier: Wow! The Book of Bill just came out, that's cool ig.

Everyone recently: *being super active in the tag, watching the movies, relogging and liking my art*

Me: *me carrying some small doodles over* WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE???

Thanks for bringing me back to brainrot by spam-liking all my old posts guys I forgive none of you (/J I LOVE YOU ALL)

More stuff below cut (BE WARNED NEW FLAT-PEOPLE SOME OF IT IS LOWKEY SPOILERY):

A. Square and A. Faux Line: Damn, that circle kinda a hottie- ...

I had this silly idea after my 29374th time watching Flatland that a majority of the first part of the movie is just A. Sphere watching all the shit go down like the worst telenovela you've ever seen. Also, that A. Line was originally going to be the apostle, but... uh... she can't really do that anymore, so he banks all his money on A. Square.

Also, I thought it would be super funny of A. Square and A. Faux Line both crushed on A. Sphere when he first showed up lol. Crazy smooth priest spawns and everyone swoons.

Older Hex doodles too. I love Hex, they're such a real one the whole time. With all the faults of Sphereland, I do like Hex maining in that one. But I also like picking and choosing which things I take as canon in my own work, so you get young adult Hex with their totally not-romantically-involved-with-at-all partner Punto (P. Octagon).

It's been a bit since Flatland happened in this hypothetical, so A. Square's still around. He's trying to be supportive of his masc-nonbinary kid who likes kissing boys, but still has to be annoying with dad jokes and the occasional backhanded compliment. He means well tho.

A. Tesseract: Hello A. Square!

A. TESSERACT OH HOW I'VE MISSED YOU POOKIE <3333. She's probably one of my most favorite ocs I've made (and the one that gets the most art <3) She's also the one I feel the least awkward about shoving into the source material lol. I yearn to work on A Heightlander's Escape again, but we'll see.

I just wanted to draw something cute between her and A. Square. She may or may not be the voice at the end of the movie hmmmmmmmm.

At least A. Square would end up in good hands.

"There is always something beyond. There is always INFINITY."

Just a little doodle of smth I may or may not render cuz I really like how it looks. There is always something greater after all.

Thank you all for the recent support on those old-ish drawing, y'all made my week tbh. I have a new AU cooking for this so look forward to that lol. Have a good one :)))

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Hey, guys! We reached the end, I must say I loved it. Happy ending for everyone!!!

Enjoy it! <3

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda x Fem Reader x AgathaRio

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warnings: angs, smut and happy end

Summary: The guardian changes everything

Hey. Now I've a masterlist

INFINITY

The room was an echo of despair, a space where time seemed to halt in the face of Wanda's emotional devastation. The dimness was pierced only by the unstable flickers of spells, trembling like flames in agony, reflecting the chaos within her. Her fingers shook as she frantically leafed through grimoires, her eyes scanning lines of text that blurred before the teary haze clouding her vision.

Her heart pounded like a discordant drum, each beat a cruel reminder of the void consuming her. With every spell, every failed attempt to locate Agatha and the people she loved, her frustration grew. It wasn’t just anger; it was something far deeper, an existential fury threatening to devour everything around her.

When the door to the room burst open, interrupting her frenzy, Wanda didn’t even turn. “What are you doing here?” she growled, her voice dripping with venom.

Stephen Strange entered hesitantly but resolutely, his expression grave. “What am I doing here?” he echoed in response to Wanda’s cutting glare. “A Guardian and her daughter, two Solis, have been taken. Do you think that doesn’t affect me? That I don’t understand what this means for the universe?”

Wanda laughed without humor, a hollow sound that reverberated through the room like muffled thunder. She rose slowly, the energy around her rippling menacingly. “They’re not just Solis,” she replied, her voice sharp as glass. “They are my life. My reason. And no universe is worth more than them.”

Strange took a step forward, trying to strike a balance between authority and empathy. “Wanda, what you’re doing—what you’re considering—could tear the fabric of reality. You know this.” His eyes locked onto hers, seeking to understand the depth of her pain. “Whatever you do, Wanda, it has to be done with caution. The universe is at stake.”

She stared at him with a chill that could freeze hell itself. “Caution?” Her laugh was dark now, almost deranged. “Caution is what made me vulnerable. Caution is what made me lose everything before. And if I have to destroy the multiverse to bring them back, so be it.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Strange, for a moment, couldn’t find words. He knew she was beyond reason, but he couldn’t ignore the raw humanity in her eyes, the terror masked by determination.

“You’re a monster,” he finally murmured, not with hatred but with sorrow. “Look at what you’re becoming, Wanda.”

She blinked, her face twisting with something that looked like pain but was quickly replaced by icy anger. “I am not a monster, Strange.” she said, each word laced with conviction and bitterness. “I am a broken woman. A mother who failed. A wife who couldn’t protect her family. And now, I will do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes…”

Strange tried once more. “Do you think bringing your family back this way will heal you? Will it erase what you’ve lost? Or will it only create more pain?”

She smiled, but the smile was empty, devoid of any warmth. “I’m not looking for healing, Stephen. I just want them back.”

The air around her began to vibrate, the walls seeming to close in, suffused by the energy emanating from Wanda. Strange watched the growing purple magic, a harbinger of apocalypse, and knew he was losing the battle.

“If you go down this path, Wanda, there’s no turning back,” he said, his voice desperate. “You’ll destroy everything.”

She didn’t hesitate, not for a second. “I’ve already lost everything, Strange. Do you think I care about losing the rest?”

With a gesture, she pushed him away, an invisible barrier preventing him from coming closer. Strange stood helplessly as Wanda closed her eyes and surrendered completely to the power consuming her.

In that moment, she was no longer just the Scarlet Witch. She was a woman willing to burn the universe just to feel the warmth of her family once more.

[...]

In the heart of the grove, where sunlight filtered through the trees like golden tears, a faceless woman walked, her steps gentle on the leaf-strewn earth. Her garments were ancient, imposing in their simplicity, and her brown hair danced with the wind. She cradled a baby, small and fragile, in her arms. The baby nestled against her, seeking solace in her presence, its lips curving softly as it fed on the life she offered.

The love between them was palpable, almost visible, like a warm, comforting aura spreading through the surroundings. Every gesture, every sigh of the woman seemed imbued with infinite tenderness, a devotion that transcended time. Yet, there was sadness in her eyes, something that couldn’t be erased by the sweetness of the moment. She seemed burdened by guilt, as if something had been lost or broken, something that could not be mended, even in the warmth of maternal love.

And then, in the shadow of the trees, another woman appeared, her eyes silently observing. She stood at a distance, but her presence was unmistakable, as if she knew that scene, those moments, from an immemorial time. Her gaze was full of love but also profound sorrow, a sadness that seemed to span across all past lives. She watched the woman with the baby as though she somehow knew what the future held for them. There was no fear, only a serene, painful acceptance of something that could not be changed.

In that moment, you feared for their lives, feared for the fate looming over the faceless woman and her child. But then, as you looked closer, the fear dissipated. The observing woman’s gaze was one of pure, almost unconditional love, as if that baby were a promise, a continuity of something greater, something that transcended the lines of time and life.

Their love, the silent and eternal bond, echoed in your soul like a distant melody, and you felt that perhaps this was the true essence of what you had always sought: a family, a deep connection, something that defies time and space.

But the dream dissolved quickly, like a soft breeze at dawn, and you woke, lost and confused, to the sound of Seline’s cries, still so small, still so vulnerable.

The dream was still vivid in your mind as you woke, breathless and disoriented, your eyes adjusting to the dimness of the unfamiliar room. Seline’s cries, weak and hungry, pierced the quiet, reminding you of reality. She was with you, she was your daughter, but something felt wrong. The disorientation lingered, and the world around you felt distant, as if you were trapped between two worlds.

The room was gloomy, the dim light barely illuminating the outlines of the walls, and the sound of Seline's crying seemed to echo in the back of your mind. You felt a crushing pressure on your chest—a mix of disorientation and anger, the heat of growing fear spreading through every part of your being. When Agatha and Rio entered, something in the atmosphere shifted—a heavy, tense silence.

"But look who’s awake—the Guardian herself," Agatha murmured sharply, her piercing eyes fixed on you. Her tone carried an air of superiority, as if she were studying a chess piece she already knew how to maneuver.

Instinct took over. The desperation and need to protect your daughter made you rise quickly from the bed, your body heavy and almost uncontrollable. Your eyes locked on Seline, lying there so vulnerable. Your arms stretched toward her, frantic, as though it was the last thing you could do to save her.

"How do you know about this?" you demanded, your voice tearing through the air with a raw, defiant edge. There was no room for doubt or weakness now—not with Seline so close.

Agatha smirked slightly, her dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of sarcasm and knowing. "Oh, dear… I know so many things," she replied smoothly, as though discussing something trivial. Her confidence was infuriating.

You took a step toward them, your gaze locked on Agatha, a flicker of magic starting to tingle in your hands, ready to be unleashed. But as you extended your fingers, expecting the energy to flow as it always did, something was wrong. The power didn’t manifest. The emptiness inside you was worse than any physical pain. Where was the necklace? Where was the artifact that gave your magic the strength to fight? Frustration turned to dread.

"I can’t..." your voice faltered for a moment, your eyes darting to the emptiness. You felt powerless, as if all the forces around you had been stripped away. The vulnerability was unbearable.

Agatha observed your discomfort with amused eyes, as though she had anticipated your every move. "You do know, don’t you, that without that necklace, you're nothing more than an ordinary woman?" she said softly, her malice veiled, but you wouldn’t be fooled by her calm demeanor.

Before you could respond, Rio Vidal stepped forward, her eyes as silent as her presence. She seemed like the calm to Agatha’s storm. "You and your daughter are not mere Guardians, my dear," she said with an unsettling softness, her words hanging heavily in the air. "You have a destiny far greater, something that transcends the role you think you play."

Confusion swelled in your chest, and you felt as though the ground was crumbling beneath you. Something greater? What did they mean by that?

Before you could question further, Agatha stepped forward, her lips curling into a triumphant smile. "You and Seline are part of something much larger, much grander than the simple protection of the Infinite," she said, pausing to let her revelation linger before continuing, "You are key pieces in a greater plan—one you don’t even comprehend yet. The fate of the entire universe is intertwined with yours."

The shock was immediate, like a cold blade piercing your heart. You felt the weight of Agatha’s words as an overwhelming burden. The idea that your daughter—that you—were mere pawns in a far vaster game… It seemed impossible, implausible. Yet, somehow, you felt a strange truth in it all.

Your mind began to spin, the pieces slowly falling into place, but doubt, fear, and anger filled your heart. How could this be true? How could anyone use your daughter and you this way? But, deep down, you knew there was more behind all of it, something far beyond what you could imagine.

The air in the room grew even denser as your words came out, weak and trembling but laced with venomous concern. "Where is Wanda? The boys?" you asked, your voice low, almost breaking, as if every word was a painful effort. The emptiness in your chest only grew.

Agatha observed you, her eyes annoyingly calm, as if your pain were merely a temporary distraction. "Wanda?" she repeated, chuckling lightly. "Poor Wanda… Do you really think she can do anything against me?" Agatha’s arrogance was palpable, as though she were speaking of a child who hadn’t yet realized how insignificant they were.

You tried to focus, but your mind was still hazy, the physical and mental pain making it harder to think clearly. The worry for Wanda and the children, the fear of not knowing what had happened to them—it was all suffocating.

"Wanda... She will kill you..." The threat slipped out without a filter, a whisper laced with anger and apprehension. But to your surprise, Agatha seemed utterly unbothered. On the contrary, she let out a quiet, almost mocking laugh.

Agatha crossed her arms, slowly approaching. "Oh, dear," she began, her voice soft but dripping with venom. "I know exactly what Wanda is capable of. And I know what she cannot do. I am more than prepared for anything she might try," she said with overwhelming confidence, as if the future were already written and she knew exactly where you and Wanda fit into the story.

The fear you felt for Wanda, for your children, for everything that was happening, quickly turned into a wave of fury. She wasn’t just playing with you; she was toying with everyone’s lives. But what scared you most was how completely she seemed to have control over everything. And so far, you didn’t even know where to start fighting back.

Agatha was smiling, a look of malicious satisfaction on her face, as if she knew exactly what was about to happen. "I know her so well that I can tell she will arrive in 3… 2… 1…" Agatha said, her voice calm and brimming with confidence. She barely had time to finish her sentence before a deafening noise shook the cabin's roof, making the walls vibrate.

The sound came from outside, powerful, a crash so loud it felt as if the sky itself were collapsing. Agatha laughed, a low, satisfied sound. "Maximoffs… Always so punctual, aren’t they?" She turned toward the door as if she had been expecting the impact of Wanda’s arrival.

But before you could react, dark energy rose in the air—a magic ancient and powerful—wrapping around your wrists and ankles. You struggled, but the magical chains tightened around you, immobilizing your body with inhuman strength. Your hands were bound, unable to cast any spells. You screamed, trying to break free, but the chains only tightened, as though they were draining your energy.

"No!" You screamed, your voice desperate as you felt panic take hold of you. The magical chains bound you in place, and the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. The scream echoed through the room, piercing the walls, and your eyes frantically searched for Seline, only to see her being taken by Rio. Every movement Rio made was smooth but deadly precise, as if she had calculated every second, every gesture. She was moving away, Seline in her arms, far from your protection.

"Seline!" you cried out, the desperation in your voice more evident than ever.

At that moment, the energy in the room shifted. The air grew dense, heavier, and a wave of power filled the space. Wanda's eyes glowed a deep red, and a burst of scarlet energy swept through the cabin's entrance, throwing Agatha and Rio backward with force. The Scarlet Witch was there.

"Wanda!" you called out, your heart pounding harder at the sight of her entering, her hair floating around her like flames, anger burning in her eyes. She looked at you with a single glance that carried the fury of a storm.

Agatha, however, didn't seem surprised by Wanda's arrival. She straightened, smiling at her with the confidence only she could exude. "I see you've arrived... and with company, I see... Afraid, darling?" Agatha said, her arrogance boundless.

"Get out of my way, Agatha," Wanda replied, her voice as cold as ice. She raised her hand, and an explosion of red magic lit up the room, but Agatha dodged effortlessly, her smile never wavering.

"You don't understand, Wanda," Agatha hissed. "The girl and your daughter are just tools for a much greater purpose. A purpose far beyond anything you can control."

"Don't you dare touch them," Wanda growled, the magic around her growing even more intense.

At that moment, Rio prepared to cast another spell but was interrupted when Natasha, Captain Marvel, and the other Avengers stormed in with overwhelming force. Thor roared, his hammer carrying the weight of all thunder as he charged at Agatha's forces, breaking the magical barriers.

But Agatha wasn't willing to back down. She raised a hand, conjuring a storm of purple energy that swept across the battlefield, potent magic filled with intent.

Wanda focused, her magic becoming an unstoppable force, rivaling Agatha's. The two powers collided, creating a wave of energy that shook the ground, and the battle between the two witches was breathtaking. But deep down, you knew this fight was much more than just a battle of magic. It was a fight for your family, for Seline, for everyone she loved.

The unfolding battle was indescribable, a clash of powers that seemed to defy the laws of reality. Wanda, her scarlet energy radiating from her body like an uncontrollable wildfire, stood against Agatha Harkness, whose smile was as sharp as a blade. Yet something even more threatening was about to reveal itself.

Rio Vidal, with her quiet and haunting presence, seemed merely an observer, but there was something in her eyes—something that made the air around her feel colder, denser. She was still, but her aura of death was unmistakable. It was as if life itself was being drained away from her, and her power extended far beyond mere witchcraft, something much older, more primordial.

Rio spoke in a low voice, dripping with silent malice: "You are dealing with something far beyond your comprehension."

The red light around Wanda intensified, but before she could react, Rio moved with supernatural agility. She raised a hand, and instantly the air seemed to freeze. An absolute silence fell over the room, as if the world had stopped breathing.

The spell Rio cast was instant and ruthless. The shadows around her stretched out like tendrils, engulfing the space and beginning to consume everything around.

The energy seemed to erode the very essence of life, and the shadows swallowed the Avengers one by one, as if they were being torn apart by an invisible force. Thor's hammer was flung away, the light of its energy disappearing before the shadows. The sight of the chains of death that Rio created was terrifying, as though the fabric of reality itself was being torn apart.

But the worst was yet to come. With a simple wave of her hand, Rio Vidal summoned a torrent of energy that erupted from the ground like a hurricane, a black, pulsating wave that consumed everything in its path. It was Death itself personified, a primordial force that even Wanda seemed unable to contain.

"That's what's truly terrifying, Wanda," Rio said, her voice as cold as the winds of death. "I am the true mistress of the end."

When Rio looked directly at Wanda, the aura of Death around her intensified, and the room was filled with a crushing pressure, as if the entire weight of the universe was being compressed into a single point. The sensation of death spread through the atsmosphere like a fog, and Wanda's strength, as powerful as it was, began to waver under Rio's absolute dominance.

But Wanda was not one to give in so easily. She raised her hands, and a burst of scarlet power swept through the room. The clash between Death and the Scarlet Witch was like the collision of two opposing elemental forces. The energy exploded in the air, creating a wave that made the walls tremble and the lights flicker.

"You can't stop me, Rio!" Wanda shouted, her voice full of fury and pain. "You don't stop a woman like me."

The streaks of red energy collided with Rio's shadows, and the impact generated a shockwave that shook the foundations of the room. It was as if the very air was being torn apart, the two powers clashing with a violence that almost destroyed the space around them.

Yet despite Wanda's overwhelming power, Rio continued to resist, her shadow of Death enveloping everything around her. Her presence made everything seem dark, hopeless, and for a moment, it seemed as if the balance between life and death might be disrupted.

"You'll need more than anger to defeat me, Wanda," Rio said, an enigmatic smile on her lips. "I am the natural order of all things, baby."

Wanda, however, was not willing to back down. The sight of Seline, still far from her, was all she needed to fuel her determination. She would not let death defeat her. Not again.

Tony Stark, with his usual irreverence, watched Agatha with a cynical smile as he adjusted his battle gloves. He faced the powerful witch, analyzing her with the eyes of someone about to deliver a comment to make the situation even more interesting.

"So, Agatha, is it?" Tony began, making an exaggerated gesture toward the witch's dress. "Is that medieval witchcraft look trending? You're really channeling that 'evil grandma' vibe, or is it just your personal style?"

Agatha, without losing her composure, shot him a frosty glare. "Oh. So, you think this is a joke?"

Tony shrugged, feigning indifference to the veiled threat. "Of course. Who wouldn’t want to be a supervillain with such... unique style?" He then paused, eyeing her up and down with exaggerated flair. "I’d say you and Mother Nature over there are in a fierce competition for who has more branches on their head, but, well, you’ve already won."

Rio, focused on the battle and beginning to feel the tension, wasn’t amused. The jealous look she shot Tony was immediate. She was ready to intervene, no matter what it took.

Agatha, with a sly smile, was about to reply with more venom, but before she could, Rio made a swift motion with her hand, releasing a wave of dark energy toward Tony.

"I think this little chat has gone on long enough, tin man," Rio said, her voice soft yet menacing.

The energy engulfed Tony in an explosion of shadows, leaving him barely enough time to react. The fight between Wanda and Agatha momentarily took a backseat as Rio attacked with the intensity of a storm. The humor vanished in an instant, replaced by a new, deadlier tension.

"Little Death," Tony coughed out, still wearing his signature smirk. "I knew it was only a matter of time before your lesbian jealousy kicked in and you lost your patience, but I didn’t think it’d be this quick. Also, this suit is brand new, and—"

Agatha glanced at Rio with a victorious smile, as if fully aware that Rio’s unexpected action had drawn all the attention away from the battlefield.

And then, magically, the man’s mouth was gone.

"Sometimes, tin man, the best answer is the simplest: shut up."

The battlefield around you was chaos. Energy beams, spells, and explosions filled the air, but in the depths of your mind, the only sound you could hear was the voice of your deepest instincts—a soft, commanding voice echoing within your being:

Shine for us. Shine for them.

It was as if the voice spoke directly to your soul, guiding you, awakening something ancient and divine within you. The pain that followed was unbearable—tearing through your flesh, your bones, your mortality. Yet instead of fear, you felt a surge of power, a growing force from within. And as you opened your eyes, you saw your mortal shell disintegrating, revealing something far greater.

You ascended, soaring skyward, the energy emanating from you illuminating the battlefield with a golden light that drew every gaze. Your power was absolute. You were glorious. It was as though the cosmos itself bowed before your essence.

The air around you shifted. The world paused for a second.

Your bones seemed to restructure into something stronger, more resilient. Your skin glowed as if made of starlight. Then, with a triumphant burst, massive wings of light erupted from your back, each beat powerful enough to make the heavens part in reverence. You felt an uncontrollable power within you, the energy of the universe coursing through your veins. With a single push, you shattered the magical restraints Rio had cast upon you.

Agatha, usually so composed and full of words, was silent, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open, unable to comprehend what had just transpired.

“No…” Agatha whispered, as if the vision before her was an abomination, but in truth, it was the manifestation of what you truly were.

Below you, Wanda looked up, her eyes shining with a reverence she had never shown before. She saw you in a new light, transcendent and divine. Not just as the Guardian, not just as her wife and the mother of her child, but as a force of nature—someone beyond time and space. Her eyes were filled with adoration, her soul touched by the sight of you—glorious, powerful, something beyond human yet undeniably hers.

You needed no words. There was no need. The light emanating from you said it all. She rose toward you, as if you were the reason for existence itself. She knew you were the future, the beginning, and the end.

You felt your power expanding, and as you looked at Wanda, you knew the fight wasn’t over. But now, more than ever, you had the strength to fight for her, for Seline, for everyone you loved.

You shone, and everyone could see it now.

The sound of your wings beating was almost ethereal, a striking contrast to the devastated battlefield. You landed gracefully, your golden glow bringing an indescribable calm to the chaos. Wanda gazed at you, her eyes full of questions and hesitation. You, however, gave her a serene, confident smile and spoke with a voice that seemed to embrace her soul:

"Go get the children, my love."

It was a command, yet also a plea. Wanda hesitated for a moment, but then, as if the peace in your voice melted away any doubt, she nodded and disappeared into the horizon. For a moment, the war felt like a distant memory.

You turned to Agatha and Rio. Your golden eyes met Rio’s, filled with suppressed rage and palpable fear. Without a word, you took a step forward, facing her. The tension was suffocating. But something in your gaze—a mix of understanding and respect—disarmed her. Rio swallowed hard, her powerful demeanor faltering, and then, against all expectations, she gave a slight nod, allowing you to approach Agatha. Deep in her eyes, there was something more profound: silent tears of understanding only she possessed.

You walked slowly toward Agatha, who watched you with a confused and defensive expression. When you stopped in front of her, she raised her chin as if to challenge anything you might say or do. But you didn’t attack. Instead, your hand rose slowly, touching her cheek with a tenderness that completely caught her off guard.

"I see you…" you whispered, your words carrying the weight of ages. Your eyes glowed brighter, as if unraveling every thread of pain and suffering she had ever endured in the palm of your hand. "Your pain. You are ambitious… and you’ve carved painful paths for yourself."

Agatha’s mask began to crumble. Her eyes welled up, and for the first time in a long time, she looked vulnerable. There was no sarcastic laughter, no taunts—only a woman whose story was being laid bare, with no place to hide.

"Close your eyes, Agatha."

You tilted your head, silently conveying that no harm would come of it. After a long pause, Agatha huffed reluctantly and closed her eyes.

"And why should I?" she snapped, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and insecurity. But her guard was down now, just enough for you to notice the doubt in her stance.

The world around her dissolved. When she opened her eyes again, they were in a completely different place: a tranquil forest bathed in a soft, golden light. It was the same forest from your dreams. The air was heavy with memories but also carried something purer, more sincere.

Agatha glanced around, confused, and then her eyes fixed on something in the distance: a woman in old-fashioned clothing, cradling a baby to her chest. She seemed lost in thought, her face obscured by shadows, but the love in her gestures was unmistakable. Behind her, another figure watched with care, filled with reverence and an overwhelming sadness.

"You're the little boy's mother, aren't you?" you asked, your voice gentle but precise. Agatha's body stiffened beside you. She didn't respond immediately, but you felt the tension growing like a storm about to break.

"What do you know about that?" Agatha finally asked, her voice low and dangerous, but tinged with something deeper: fear.

You turned your gaze to her, your eyes gleaming with a light that seemed to uncover every piece of her soul. "I know enough, Agatha. And now, you will too."

The air in the forest pulsed with energy, every leaf and branch vibrating with the weight of the moment. Agatha remained rigid beside you, her eyes locked on the woman in the distance. When you mentioned the name "Nicholas," something inside her seemed to shatter. She took a step back, as if fleeing were an option.

"I can't..." she murmured, her voice almost inaudible but laden with weight. "Nicholas would never forgive me if he saw all the terrible things I've done."

You looked at her, the light in your eyes growing brighter as if trying to illuminate the shadows she carried. "Are you so certain of that, Agatha? Or is that just fear speaking? Shame?"

Agatha let out a dry laugh, devoid of humor. "Fear? Shame? Perhaps both. Do you know what I've done? How many lives I've taken? He... he was just a boy, and I... I lost everything trying to bring him back." Her voice broke at the end, and you saw the tears already streaming down her face.

You stepped closer, your presence radiating calm and understanding. "You’ve lost so much, Agatha. I know that. But hiding behind guilt won’t change what happened. Nor will it undo what you’ve done."

"I don't deserve his forgiveness!" Agatha shouted, her voice echoing through the forest. "How could I? I betrayed everything he stood for. I became... something he would never recognize."

You shook your head slowly, your expression full of empathy. "And yet, he’s here. Because his love for you is greater than any mistake you’ve made."

Agatha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out your words, but they had already pierced deep. "You don’t understand... I’ve seen the looks of those who hated me. Who feared me. He would do the same."

"You don’t know that," you replied, your voice firm yet gentle. "What you’re truly afraid of is believing that he could still love you. What if I told you he already forgave you, Agatha? That all he wants is to see you, to touch you, to feel the love you still carry for him?"

Agatha opened her eyes, the weight in her gaze almost tangible. "What if I can’t? What if I... what if I fail him again?"

You smiled—a sad but resolute smile. "You’ll only fail if you don’t try. Come. See him. Not for you, but for him. He deserves this, Agatha."

She hesitated, her breathing unsteady as her eyes returned to the scene ahead. The boy let out a soft laugh in the woman’s arms, and the sound seemed to break through every defense Agatha had built. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she nodded, her steps slow and unsure as you guided her.

"If he hates me..." she began, but you interrupted her.

"Then you’ll show him that, despite everything, the love you feel is real. And that he will always be your son."

As Agatha took each step toward the boy, a storm of emotions consumed her. It was as if every memory, every decision, every mistake hit her all at once. She remembered the witches she had deceived and betrayed, their faces still vivid in her mind. Some had begged for mercy, others had fought to the end, but all had fallen for her singular goal.

Flashes of her spells, the marks of her ambition etched into her opponents, and the screams of her victims haunted her. The lies she told, the alliances she destroyed—everything she did to achieve something she knew she could never reach on her own: Nicholas. Her boy.

Then came Seline. Her plan to use her had been calculated, almost mechanical at first. She was just a tool, a key to unlock the only thing that mattered. But the idea of taking something so pure, so innocent, to fuel her obsession... it ate away at her.

The boy’s soft cries pulled Agatha back to the present. Her thoughts were still heavy with guilt and regret, but that pure, innocent sound cut through like a blade. When she looked ahead, she saw you cradling the small baby, your posture serene as you murmured softly:

"You came from scratch..." Your words were almost a whisper, but they carried an ancient power, echoing in Agatha’s heart as if they were memories from another life. They were the same words she had once spoken, in a moment of vulnerability and magic.

Agatha's blue eyes brimmed with tears, unable to hold back the drops that slowly rolled down her cheeks. She couldn't look away from the boy—so small, so fragile, yet carrying the weight of her entire story.

You paused, your eyes glowing with an intense golden hue, as though something beyond the physical world had been revealed to you. Then, the vision came—clear and vibrant: Nicholas, now grown, running through a flower-filled garden, his laughter echoing like music. His brown hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead as he played joyfully. Beside him, a little girl with bright eyes and a radiant smile ran along, their bond of camaraderie evident.

The vision brought a genuine smile to your face, filled with satisfaction and peace. "Fate has drawn the right lines this time," you thought, feeling lighter, as though something greater had fallen into balance again.

When you offered the baby to Agatha, she hesitated. Her hands trembled, the thin, scarred fingers hovering in the air, almost afraid to touch him. At last, she took him into her arms, holding him with a gentleness that seemed incongruent with her hardened and imposing demeanor.

"Find your path again, Agatha," you said, your voice soft but firm, filled with an inescapable truth.

Agatha looked at you, still reluctant to let her facade crumble completely. "I’ll never forget this," she replied, her tone attempting to mask her vulnerability, but her tears betrayed her stoicism.

You smiled sweetly, almost maternally, as though you understood every barrier she tried to erect. "You won’t need to," you replied, your certainty shining like the stars.

As Agatha held Nicholas, something within her shifted. The weight of guilt didn’t vanish, but for the first time in millennia, a small spark of hope and redemption began to grow. The boy stopped crying and wrapped his tiny hand around her finger, and in that simple gesture, Agatha felt that maybe—just maybe—she could be something more than she had been until now.

[...]

The Christmas dinner was about to begin. Guests were likely already arriving, the laughter and chatter of children echoing through the house adorned with golden lights and wreaths. But you and Wanda were late. More than that: unavailable.

Upstairs, in the bedroom, things were far from festive—at least, in the conventional sense.

Wanda had pushed you onto the bed with an almost predatory hunger as soon as you crossed the door. Her eyes were dark, glowing with a lust that made you forget everything else. Her fingers trailed your skin with precision, as if she wanted to mark every inch of you before any of the guests downstairs had the chance to see you.

“You know they’re waiting for us…” you murmured between gasps, trying to sound responsible but failing miserably. Your fingers were tangled in Wanda’s hair, tugging slightly as she bit your neck.

“They can wait.” Her voice was low, heavy with desire. “You’re my present, and I’m not sharing.”

She kissed you again, this time more fiercely, as if trying to consume every breath you took. The touch of her hands on your thighs, moving slowly upward, sent a shiver through your entire body.

"My pretty little girl looks so beautiful today." Her fingers moved to your clothes, tugging at the fabric impatiently. "But I prefer you like this—naked. Mine. Only mine."

The possessive declaration made your heart race. Wanda had always been like this—intense, consuming—but today, there was something more. A kind of urgency, as though every second away from you had been unbearable.

“If anyone downstairs dares to ask where you are,” she murmured against your neck, biting softly before moving up to your lips, “I’ll tell them the truth. That you’re here. Wide open for me. Screaming my name.”

You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips, and Wanda smiled against your skin. “Mommy...”

"Do you like that idea, my doll? Everyone knowing you belong to me?"

You nodded frantically, incapable of forming a coherent response as her fingers traced slow, torturous circles over your most sensitive spot.

“They’ll hear you,” Wanda whispered, increasing the pace. “They’ll hear you begging for me.”

Your body began to arch against the mattress, your moans turning into something deeper, more primal. And Wanda was ecstatic, watching you like this—so vulnerable, so surrendered. She knew that no one, absolutely no one, would ever see you like this. Not even in their wildest dreams.

“Come on…” She tilted her head, her lips brushing your ear. “Give me everything. Show me who you really are when you’re with me. My precious little slut. My angel.”

It was as if something inside you shattered. The pleasure that had been building erupted, spreading through your body like liquid fire, consuming every thought, every sensation, until all that remained was Wanda. Wanda and pure, unfiltered ecstasy.

And then it happened.

You screamed her name, the sound reverberating through the room, and at that moment, your wings emerged.

Massive, majestic wings made of light and shadow exploded from your back. They spread with a snap, illuminating the room like a celestial display. Their weight made the mattress sink slightly, and the air around you crackled with an otherworldly energy.

Wanda froze for a moment, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. It was always breathtaking when it happened. You were transformed. Radiant. Divine.

But the surprise quickly gave way to adoration.

“Fuck…” Wanda murmured, her eyes gleaming with something almost reverent. She ran her hand over the feathers of your wings, feeling their soft, ethereal texture. “You… you’re so beautiful.”

Her touch on your wings sent a delightful shiver down your spine. It was as if the wings were an extension of your own nerves, sensitive to her touch, reacting to the slightest movement.

“I love your wings,” Wanda said in a low, almost reverent tone as her fingers glided over the soft feathers. There was something different in her voice—not just admiration, but a hint of possessiveness, as if those wings were an extension of her, something she had awakened in you.

You let out a short laugh, still trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "If I’m an angel, then what does that make you? A demon?"

Wanda lifted her gaze, a slow, dangerous smile curving her lips. Her eyes gleamed with something between pride and desire, but there was also a touch of darkness—a reminder that, although you were shining now, it was she who had ignited this flame.

“A demon?” she murmured, leaning in to brush her lips against yours. “No… something worse. Something that corrupts naive little girls like you. Something that makes them want to surrender to their own darkness.”

A shiver ran down your spine as her words wrapped around you like invisible threads, binding you again to that place between devotion and submission.

“Don’t forget that,” Wanda continued, her tone firm and possessive but tinged with the kind of tenderness only she could offer. “Everything you are now—your light, your wings, even the strength you feel—it’s all a part of me. I planted it in you. And I will never let you forget.”

Your wings trembled slightly under her touch, as if they themselves responded to that truth. You smiled, closing your eyes for a moment as you let it all sink in.

“Then maybe I am your angel,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet her burning gaze. “But you will always be my darkness.”

Wanda’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile before she kissed you again—a kiss filled with unspoken promises, with a love that burned and illuminated at once.

“My light,” she murmured against your lips, her fingers still tracing along the feathers of your wings. “And I, your chaos.”

Wanda smirked, a proud, satisfied expression crossing her face. She pulled you into a deep, slow kiss, as if sealing the moment between you two. When she pulled away, her intense gaze burned into yours, leaving a heat on your skin.

“Now, my light,” she whispered, “let’s head downstairs. I’m sure our guests have arrived—or, at the very least, the kids are planning to set the house on fire.”

You chuckled softly, a charming sound that lit the air. “On Christmas night? They wouldn’t want to miss out on pie…”

As you descended the stairs, the house was alive with laughter and noise. The doorbell rang persistently, accompanied by the sounds of Tommy tugging at Sparky in an animated tug-of-war. Billy, unfazed by the chaos, stood near the fireplace, angling for the perfect selfie. Seline, ever curious, crouched by the Christmas tree, shaking gifts in an attempt to guess their contents.

“Ah, so they do want to miss out on dessert,” you remarked, raising your eyebrows as Wanda sighed, crossing her arms and shooting a sharp look at the trio.

“Definitely no pie.”

“Tommy, let go of the dog. Billy, put the phone away. Seline…” Wanda paused, searching for the right words as she caught the little girl using her magic to peel back a piece of wrapping paper. “If I hear even one piece of tape tearing, you’d better be ready to explain to the pumpkin pie why you won’t be eating it.”

At the sound of Wanda’s voice, Seline quickly stood up and pointed at the gifts.

“I was just checking! I promise I didn’t open any!” she said, hands raised as though surrendering.

Wanda shook her head, sighing. “How does she have your entire personality?” she muttered to you, though there was a glint of pride in her eyes.

Before you could respond, the doorbell rang again—this time longer and more impatient.

“If it’s not them, whoever it is is about to get a lesson in patience,” Wanda grumbled as you moved to answer the door.

The moment you opened it, Nicholas darted inside like a ray of sunshine against the snow outside. He practically leapt into your arms, his wide smile lighting up his face.

“Auntie!” he exclaimed, brimming with the kind of energy only a child could have. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, making you crouch to hug him back.

In his small hands, a shiny wrapped box dangled precariously. From the way he clutched it, you knew exactly who it was for. The sparkle in Nicholas’ eyes, mixed with innocent anticipation, warmed your heart in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

You smiled, keeping your voice low so only he could hear. “Hey, sweetheart. Seline’s just by the tree. She hasn’t stopped talking about you for a second.”

Nicholas’ brown eyes widened, a different kind of sparkle dancing in them—something between happiness and a shy sweetness you rarely saw in him. He didn’t reply, just nodded quickly before darting in the direction you’d indicated, his steps light and eager.

Leaning against the doorframe, you watched the little ones. Nicholas placed the box carefully beside Seline, who, curious as ever, leaned in to open it—but not without glancing at him first, as though seeking permission.

The scene was so simple, yet in that moment, you saw your vision from months ago coming to life. The children’s laughter filled the air, exactly as it had in the image of the future destiny had shown you.

Nicholas, his messy brown hair damp with a light sheen of sweat, extended something small and golden to Seline. She, with Wanda’s eyes but a mischievous smile that was unmistakably her own, took the object carefully. And suddenly, as if time paused for a brief instant, you knew the line of destiny had been drawn perfectly.

You turned to find Wanda standing beside you. There was something in the way she looked at Seline and Nicholas—a mix of protectiveness, unease, and that playful jealousy she always pretended was stronger than it actually was.

Behind Nicholas came Agatha, draped in an elegant purple coat that seemed more fit for a queen than a family dinner. Her eyes swept the room with that familiar blend of veiled criticism and sly amusement that was her trademark.

“Well, what a charming Christmas tableau,” she commented, her tone almost sweet but sufficiently loaded to raise suspicion. “You still insist on keeping the tree so over-the-top, Wanda? It looks like every branch is in existential crisis, torn between too much decoration or total collapse.”

Wanda appeared in the doorway, her gaze sharp as a freshly honed blade. “Better over-the-top than monochromatic and dreary, Agatha. At least the kids don’t leave crying, thinking they’ve stumbled into a haunted mansion.”

Agatha’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Monochromatic is refined, dear. But I understand—not everyone has the capacity to appreciate subtlety. Some people need… twinkling lights to mask their lack of taste.”

Wanda crossed her arms, leaning slightly forward. “And some people need constant sarcasm to mask the fact that the last Christmas they celebrated was in the Middle Ages, isn’t that right?”

Agatha theatrically huffed. “Oh, Wanda, always so dramatic. It’s almost inspiring. But you know what’s even more inspiring? The courage to wear so much red and not look like a department store decoration.”

Wanda sweetly smiled, that dangerous smile you knew so well. “Says the expert in purple, the favorite color of villains in children’s books.”

At that moment, Rio walked into the room, casually adjusting her necklace while looking at the two of them with an expression of long-suffering patience. “You two never get tired, do you?”

Both women scoffed, making you laugh as you gathered the coats.

“Wine?” you asked, gesturing toward the table.

“Red,” Rio replied.

“Excellent choice.”

As you approached the table to fetch the glasses of wine for the women, you felt Wanda’s warm body embrace you from behind. The small, subtle kiss placed just behind your ear made you blush, as always.

When you separated, Wanda whispered to you, “They’re not leaving anytime soon, are they?”

You chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. “Of course not. It’s Christmas, love. And you know they’re our family now.”

Wanda let out an indignant sigh, but with that mischievous smile only she could pull off. “Fine, we’ll endure it. If we stay here too long, someone might set the house on fire, and I’m almost sure it’ll be Agatha.”

Right after, a loud, indignant voice rang out, making everyone in the room turn their heads toward its owner. “Do you know how long it’s been since I set a house on fire?” Agatha retorted, her impeccable posture daring the world.

“Agatha...” Rio warned, her eyes trying to bring calm but tinged with resignation.

“What? I’ve never set a house on fire!” she said, half-offended, half-joking.

“Really? But what about when the White House caught fire that year?” you teased, settling on the armrest of a chair, bringing a glass for yourself and one for Wanda.

Agatha grimaced, clearly displeased at being reminded of that incident. “Oh, that was an accident! I was trying to give Rio... a romantic surprise.” She paused, and everyone looked at her, waiting for more details. “I wanted a candlelit dinner, with fireworks at the end… I got a little carried away, and, well, the White House turned into an impromptu bonfire. But it wasn’t that bad! She loved it!”

“Of course I loved it,” Rio responded with a light laugh. “Who wouldn’t be touched by seeing a historic building go up in flames in the name of love?”

“But I... I’m getting better,” Agatha continued, trying to regain control of the situation.

“You always have an excuse, don’t you, Agatha?” Wanda decided to prod, poking at the woman’s ego.

You glanced at Wanda, who was laughing at the situation but with a touch of concern in her eyes. “Ah… But you’ve got your stories too, my dear,” you whispered to Wanda, making her blush slightly.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Wanda murmured, raising a hand as if to ward off memories of a past disaster. “One thing’s for sure: if any house catches fire here, Agatha will be the first one blamed.”

The light-hearted mood continued, with everyone laughing and trading barbs, but the energy was undeniably warm. The house was full of life, laughter, and stories, and amidst it all, love was clearly present. Whether between Agatha and Rio or everyone there, something magical lingered in the air—without any fires in sight... for now.

The table was elegantly set, with cod dishes, colorful sides, and glasses clinking with wine flowing generously. Christmas at Wanda’s house was always a mix of magic and chaos, especially now, with Agatha and Rio unofficially mentoring the twins. Dinner, as usual, was filled with banter and laughter.

Tommy, brimming with the typical energy of his 18 years, spoke about his college indecision. “Berkeley seems like a good option… But maybe Stanford? Who knows, I might just flip a coin to decide.”

Wanda rolled her eyes with a playful smile. “Tommy, darling, the universe already handles enough chaos without you flipping coins for life decisions.”

“Exactly, Tommy,” Billy joined in the teasing, “because clearly chaos didn’t start with your habit of being late for everything.”

Laughter rippled through the table, but at some point, Billy’s expression turned thoughtful. He held his glass with exaggerated drama, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, I think it’s time for a revelation.”

Eyes turned to him, some curious, others with a humorous glint, already predicting what was coming. Billy paused, a true actor on stage, and announced:

“I’m gay.”

A second—maybe two, if someone wanted to exaggerate—of silence fell over the table. Then, collective laughter erupted like a wave.

“Wow, Billy, that was quite the revelation!” Agatha said with a sarcastic smile. “I think we’ll need a moment of silence to process that.”

“Absolutely shocking!” Rio declared, theatrically clutching her chest. “Must be why you spent an hour helping Wanda pick out the most stylish Christmas lights for the porch.”

Billy chuckled, blushing slightly but enjoying the reaction. “Okay, fine. I get it. That was about as shocking as saying the sky is blue.”

“Sweetheart, you ran out my anti-frizz cream,” you teased, laughing.

Wanda raised her glass, her eyes shining with affection. “Billy, darling, I’ll just say this: I’m your mother. I knew before you did. I just waited to see when you’d decide to tell us.”

“By the way,” Agatha interjected with a mischievous grin, “since we’re in a mood for revelations, Tommy, is there something you’d like to share?”

Tommy nearly choked on his juice, his eyes wide. “Me? No! I’m good, thanks. Pass.”

Rio raised an eyebrow, her expression amused. “Relax, Tommy. If you’ve got nothing to share now, we’ll wait. But only until next Christmas, okay?”

The boy shook his head, laughing nervously as everyone enjoyed his flustered state.

Amid the teasing and jokes, dinner remained light and welcoming, with Billy visibly relieved and Wanda watching the scene with a maternal smile. There was magic in that house—both literal and figurative. And while Agatha and Rio’s mentorship helped the twins shape their gifts, it was these simple moments, full of love and laughter, that truly defined the family they had built.

That night, Christmas wasn’t just about gifts or food. It was about natural acceptance, shared laughter, and the kind of love that turns even the most “shocking” revelations into something genuinely beautiful.

[...]

The night gently fell over the house, the cozy silence enveloping everything around. In the shadows of the bedroom, the soft moonlight touched their intertwined bodies, creating an atmosphere where time seemed to slow down. Wanda lay on her side, her penetrating gaze still filled with frustration, but also immense affection. She had lost herself in her thoughts, her arms wrapped around you, almost as if she wanted to keep you all to herself, only hers. But the restlessness wouldn’t leave her.

Finally, she turned to face you, her expression filled with a complex emotion. "This is so unfair! Having a daughter, only for a man to come and take her away from me," she said, pouting like a petulant child, not realizing that what was unfolding was far more than any possessiveness.

You let out a light laugh, full of tenderness, a laugh that felt more like a silent dance between two souls who understand each other without words. "Man? Nicholas is eight." You smiled, a hint of incredulity in your voice. "Wanda, I know you want to protect Selly, but she’s growing. Fate is set."

And when you said that, the sense of inevitability was palpable. Like an invisible current, unseen, but carrying with it the full power of a universe in motion. It was as if the threads of destiny had already been intertwined long before your eyes met, and now, their hands, young and pure, were beginning to reach out for one another.

But Wanda, always so impulsive, couldn't help but contest. "You’re the guardian, aren’t you? Do something." Her green eyes, filled with an irresistible charm, fixed on you, that glint in her gaze revealing she knew exactly what she was doing. You knew she was using this to try to make you change your mind, but you also knew she was just trying not to accept what, deep down, she already knew was true.

"Wanda..." you warned her, but she huffed, clearly frustrated with the impossibility of controlling what was coming.

"It’s just that the boys are already grown, adults, and she’s still my little girl," she confessed quietly, almost like a weakness, and you felt the weight of it, the fear of losing something she had built with so much love and care. But in truth, the reality was that this love was preparing the ground for something even more beautiful.

"Sweetheart, Selly is crazy about you, just like I am, she wouldn’t trade you for anything." You smiled softly, touching her cheek. "But you know... one day, they’ll have to date for real."

Wanda didn’t like that. She didn’t like to imagine her little girl, so pure and sweet, going into a world where things weren’t simple anymore, where feelings were complicated, where promises and destinies tangled in ways that could no longer be controlled.

"Sure, when she’s thirty and living in Canada." She crossed her arms, as if that was the only way to protect what she loved most.

"Wanda!" You laughed, but deep down, your heart was full of immense love, knowing that Wanda's concern was just another layer of protective affection that ended up making everything more beautiful, more real.

"Alright," Wanda finally said, letting out a sigh of surrender. "Just when she’s thirty, no need to go to Canada."

You sighed, a soft smile on your lips. "Wanda…"

"Alright, twenty-nine..." she relented.

You knew that everything that was to come, everything that was unfolding, was being paved by them in an inevitable way. Like two stars slowly drawing closer, pulled by the gravity of the universe, not even knowing they were destined to merge into a single, powerful glow.

The destinies of Seline and Nicholas had been intertwined from the first breath, like invisible threads connecting them without anyone being able to see. It wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about possessiveness. It was about something deeper, something that only time and love could reveal. And you knew that, when the right time came, they would find each other, not by chance, but because it was what the universe had planned.

And Wanda, as much as she wanted to protect Selly from the world, from all the risks, deep down knew that when the time came, it wouldn’t be a loss. It would be the beginning of a new story that would endure until the end of time.

The Infinite was never about a straight line. It was never about time or space, but about the moments that mark our hearts and change everything. Like fingers intertwining, like eyes meeting, like shared sighs in the silence of a cold night. The Infinite is made of choices, of loves, of losses. It is the memory of every step taken, the hope of each new day.

Being the Guardian of the Infinite is not about power, it’s not about controlling what is eternal. You always imagined it would be something grand, something beyond your understanding, but the truth is that the Infinite hides in the small things. In the smile we give to the people we love. In the gentle touch of a hand that holds ours. In the silent promise we make, without words, but with our whole hearts.

You saw the Infinite not as something distant, but as something so close, so vast and yet so delicate, that it made you feel small. Not in a sense of weakness, but in understanding that love — that feeling so simple and yet so complex — is the true force that holds everything. The Infinite is not in the distant stars, but in what is created between people, in those invisible connections that cannot be explained, only felt.

And it was there, in that moment charged with emotion, that you plunged into your own Crimson Reverie, a state where everything was pulsing, vibrant, full of meaning. The red was not just a color; it was a presence, a mark that represented both the intensity of love and the burning wounds it can bring. The Crimson was your bond, your eternal waking dream, a place where love and chaos intertwined, where you and Wanda existed as inseparable forces.

You came to understand that love has no beginning or end, because it is always there, waiting, silent, waiting for us to embrace it. It grows with us, transforms with us. Sometimes it’s sweet, sometimes it’s bitter, but it’s always real. And when we look at the people we love most, we see how strong those bonds are. They are what remains, what crosses time, what endures pain and distance.

This is how the Infinite reveals itself — not in a snap of fingers or in an explosion of power, but in a simple gesture, in a look. The moment you realized that your destiny was not to be the guardian of something immense and incomprehensible, but to be the guardian of the small moments of love that make up life. You are not just a force that holds time, you are a person, with a story, with loves and choices that make you who you are.

And in the end, it is love that writes the story, that gives meaning to what would be just a chaos of purposeless events. Because it is love that transforms, that heals, that blooms amidst grief, that teaches us to be more human. More vulnerable. And perhaps that’s what makes the Infinite so special: it’s not distant, it’s not cold. The Infinite is made of life, of love, of every person who crossed our path and left a mark. And in every moment, in every breath, the Infinite continues, and perpetuates itself, not in something grand, but in the softness of what unites us.

So, perhaps the secret of the Infinite is this: it’s in the simple act of living, of loving, of making mistakes, of starting over. Of knowing that, in the end, what matters is not how much time we have, but how much we love and allow ourselves to be loved. Because love is what makes us eternal. It is what makes us part of the greatness of the Infinite.

And that is what remains.

~*~

Thanks for following Crimson Reverie! And I wish you find your place in infinity <3

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01

[rjshope]

gifmaker / cc wrapped 2024!

I was tagged by most beloveds @raplinenthusiasts @cosmicdreamgrl @jkvjimin @cordiallyfuturedwight @yooboobies @taehyunghobi and @jinstronaut(thank you guys🖤🌷) to share my most popular posts and my favorite ones.

Let's go!

january:

⟡ Yoongi with painted hands // he's cute here no arguments from me ♡ adorkable namgi // lol ♡ that Namjoon live // i'm still recovering btw

february:

⟡ happy Hope on the street♡ rapline saving Jin // i love how you can see their personalities here ♡ Jimin as the cutest dinosaur ever // esp soft for this one

march:

⟡ thank you fo being my artist Jimin live // he said very important thing here ♡ namjin bickering (+Hobi enjoying the show) // i live for bickering namjin ♡ Hobi being Yoongi's favorite seat // yoongi never beating lil meow meow allegations

april:

⟡ Tae and his big brown eyes // y'all just couldn't resist him could you?😁 ♡ that Malta Namjoon // despite the fact that this is my least fav bv season i have a soft spot for this gifset ♡ Dimple gifset for Kayla's birthday // very special work for my very special person🌷

may:

⟡ vibing Namjoon // lmao this is just two simplest b&w gifs and what have y'all done??? 🙈🙈 ♡ namjin laughing // luv my soft boys ♡ Nuts MV // i'm just a weak woman what do you want from me

june:

⟡ SYS Final Kim Taehyung // i'm happy with it, i love this gifset very much <3 ♡ hyung line dynamic in a nutshell // they never fail to crack me up lmao ♡ laughing namgi // so wholesome i love them so much!

july:

⟡ Jin being a good infuence on Namjoon pt.2 // i carried the thought of this gifset in my head for two years, it displays perfectly why these two are so important to me and it's nice to see this post being so appreciated ♡ Hobi being handsome to infinity and beyond // i'm still lost for words you know ♡ Tae gifset for Annie's birthday // this one is very important to me bc it took a lot of my time, blood and sweat to make it, and seeing it floped breaks my heart. Well at least Annie liked it, that's the most important thing. ♡ namjin "revenge is sweet" gifset // if you hear someone making weird evil giggling noises that's me

august:

⟡ jihope being jihope // this is not a gifset this is a happy pill ♡ hyung line from memories of 2015 // i hope i don't need to explain this?!?! ♡ RJ comforting rapline // i'm still sobbing

september:

⟡ namgi dealing with their Jin-hyung // lol#2 ♡ Namjoon birthday compilation gifset // it was my first time doing something like this and i really love how it turned out ♡ maknae line for Pat's birthday // i know this is my post but whenever i see it i sit and look at it in awe (i'm allowed to be proud with myself from time to time) ♡ sope flirting // they are so married it's annoying

october:

⟡ Jin and his mindset // if more of us were like him it would be a merrier place (yes, quoting king of my heart here) ♡ namseok gifset for Julia's birthday // i had so much fun making these ♡ peach Namjoon // iykyk ♡ winter package 2020 hyung line // rare photoshoot with just four of them in the same unit

november:

⟡ Jin, Joon, the saxophone and Jimmy Fallon // totally agree with y'all😌 ♡ Bangbangcon namgi // Yoongi's smile i'm gonna sob ��� Namjoon and his healing smile // i miss him so much ♡ Jin performing Another Level // i do not make performances gifset often and this is a good song and a good performance and i love how these look

december:

⟡ cute barefaced Yoongi from ITS1 // lol we all are so whipped for him ♡ Jin for Dicon // playing with color isolation was fun ♡ soft (and a bit drunken) Hobi from ITS1 // the look on his face make my heart flutter ♡ cuteness agression namgi // i can't stop giggling, Yoongi your crush is showing ♡ ON Kinetic Manifesto Film Shoot Sketch | Hyung line // my boys looking fine as hell, that's it that's the tweet

Idk if it me or you really can see how my january gifs look different from december gifs. It didn't happen on purpose, but it's something that is interesting to see.

It fun to see how my year started with 2019 year and with MOTS: Persona era. And now i'm closing it by entering BE and Life Goes On era *breathes out* Yeah, life goes on and my journey goes on as well😁

Anyway it was my second year here and i'd like to thank you all for staying with me, for you support, for your reblogs and comments, it means a lot💖 I enjoyed this ride, let's continue next year with the boys!

tagging @namchyoon @kimtaegis @jung-koook @hvseoks @btsiu

@taee @kth1 @heybaetae @oumoumimi (no pressure ofc <3)

[everparanoid]

Depths of Eternity Left Behind

Satoru Gojo x Sorcerer fem! Reader

On October 1st, 2018, you find Gojo crying in an empty classroom and you try to comfort him.

A story in which you are a Grade One sorcerer working alongside Gojo who falls in love with the man behind the overconfident bravado, but can't seem to get close enough to reach him beyond the limitless infinity that separates you.

cw: Canon compliant. Major Character death, Canon Typical Violence, Suggestive Content, Mentions of Pegging and Petplay, Mentions of death, Fluff, Angst. Major Spoilers for Manga, JJk 0 and season 2.

Word Count: 6.3k

Minors Do Not Interact

Spoilers below.

October 31st, 2018. Summary of the Notice from Jujustu Headquarters

Suguru Geto’s Survival was confirmed. We hereby declare the reinstatement of his death sentence.

2.  You and Satoru Gojo have been deemed accomplices in the Shibuya Incident and are hereby expelled from Jujutsu society. Following your confirmed death in Shibuya, you are to be wiped from all records. In addition, any attempt to free Satoru Gojo from his seal will be deemed a crime.

3. Masamichi Yaga is sentenced to death for inciting you, Satoru Gojo, and Suguru Geto, causing the Shibuya Incident.

4. The suspension on Yuji Itadori’s death sentence is hereby revoked, and his execution shall be carried out promptly.

5. Special-grade sorcerer Yuta Okkotsu shall be appointed as Yuji Itadori’s executioner.

October 1st, 2018. Tokyo prefecture, Tokyo Jujutsu High School 30 days before The Shibuya Incident

“Sensei, good evening,” Itadori called out to you.

You had poked your head out of the door when you heard the young trio returning from their day out in the city. “Itadori, have you seen Gojo?”

Halting, Itadori’s face contorted in thought. “Gojo sensei?” His arms were filled with shopping bags, presumably Nobara’s. You wondered how his arms hadn’t given out from the amount he was carrying, but you supposed the vessel of the king of curses was a special breed. “Isn’t he on a mission?”

You cursed under your breath. “I thought he would be with you guys,” you said. “Yaga told me he returned earlier today.”

“Knowing him, he’s probably slacking off somewhere.” Nobara rolled her eyes, gesticulating languidly.

Itadori smacked his fist onto his open palm, jostling the bags still hanging off his forearms. “Have you checked--?”

“I’ll call him,” Megumi interrupted, quick to bring out his phone. His fingers dashed over the screen bringing up Gojo’s number.

You waved dismissively. If the kids hadn’t seen Gojo then something was wrong and calling him probably would ruin any chance of you had figuring out what it was. Gojo had a way of masking his problems in front of the kids. “No need, Fushiguro.”

Megumi lowered his phone. “Are you sure?”

“He is around here somewhere.” You smiled. “You guys have a nice rest of your evening.” You slid the door closed.

You found Gojo in one of the sparsely furnished classrooms. He sat slumped, his long legs man-spread, his head resting on the backrest of the chair, and his blindfold on. The setting sunlight pouring in through the open window bathed his white hair in a gentle orange glow.

You didn’t know if he knew that you were there. If he did, he didn’t acknowledge you. It was rare to catch the blindfolded man unaware—ever since the incident with the star plasma vessel and Toji Fushiguro all those years ago his defences had been ironclad. And yet there you were watching the strongest man you knew break.

His cries were hollow sounding. Too frail to be considered sobs of pain, but strong enough to express the tip of an iceberg of agony. From being in its presence, you felt an iota of the weight he carried on his shoulders.

It was fifty-fifty whether your presence would make him raise his guard again, putting on the front of the bubbly jester entertaining the court. However, you couldn’t just stand by and watch him cry.

When was the last time that he was told it was okay to be weak? When was he allowed to be anything other than the strongest?

Gojo was the strongest, that was a known fact. One accepted by everyone in the jujutsu world, even by the overconfident man himself. He was born into strength; it was his birthright.

Throughout the heavens and earth, he alone was the honoured one.

You knew this. It’s not like anyone would ever let you forget. It was why you both agreed you couldn’t be anything more than what you were. It was what kept your worlds apart despite how much you wanted to be a part of his.

Gojo is the strongest.

Other’s words echoed around your head like a mantra.

He was never weak. He could never lose. He was never afraid. He was Satoru Gojo. Six eyes; limitless; idiot; pain in the ass; love of your life… the strongest.

And he was alone, you reminded yourself.

                //July 2007

“Is that Satoru?” you asked, watching the usually aloof teen training alone on the fields. It was a hot day in July at Jujutsu High. Hotter than it had been over the last week, and so instead of wasting away in a classroom you’d buddied with Shoko to sit outside near the training grounds.

Shoko hummed in affirmation from beside you. With focused hands, she filled her cigarette paper with tobacco, holding the filter between her lips. She didn’t need to look up to know where you were looking.

“Is he okay?” you asked.

“When is he not okay?” With dainty fingers, she rolled her cigarette. “Fuck this, I’m just going to buy pre-rolled next time,” she said. She licked the edge of the paper, sealing the cigarette. “Come with me later.”

“Sure,” you said absently, your attention failing to leave Gojo. Shoko could have asked you to rob a Konbini and you would have agreed. “He’s been doing a lot of missions alone since the failure of Tengen’s Star Plasma vessel mission... I haven’t even seen him hang out with Suguru.” Or me, but you don’t say that. This wasn’t about you. Even though you had been just as close with the two as they were with each other; not to the same strength level and ability to throw down, still, it was always the three of you—and Shoko occasionally.

Shoko shrugged, lighting her cigarette. “They’re big boys, they can work separately.” She took a drag. “Besides, I can’t imagine him needing backup anymore. Anyone else would be a hindrance.”

You outwardly agreed but couldn’t shake the thought that even the strongest person needed support. And Suguru was his right-hand man. They were inseparable like two sides of the same coin—yin and yang; only imbalance came if one existed without the other. It felt wrong seeing them apart. “Still—I should go and check on him.”

“Don’t,” Shoko said.

You stopped mid-way into getting up and looked back at her. “Why not?”

“Because asking Gojo to open up is like extracting blood from a rock,” Shoko monotoned. She crossed her left leg over the right and leaned back, taking another drag.

“Rocks don’t bleed,” you said.

“Exactly, rocks are weapons.” She tipped her head to the side. “That’s why you’re better off not going to him. Unless you want to be the one hurt, and news flash, I can’t reverse heartbreak.”

You looked away, guilt-ridden. It wasn’t a secret that you were in love with Gojo.

“Besides your form of empathy is about as kind as a slap,” Shoko added.

You hesitated. She had a point. You cast your gaze between Shoko and Gojo in the distance, divided. He whipped a pale hand across his sweaty forehead, his focus undisturbed. He looked tired, determined, and way out of your league.

“Fine, I’ll check on Suguru,” you said, grabbing your bag.

Shoko shook her head. “Out.”

“Again?”

“He’s on a mission alone.”

Alone.

The word rippled through you.

“Couldn’t one of us have gone along with him?” you asked. “We are here too.”

She coughed out a bitter laugh. “And I’ll what? Heal his mouth after he successfully does his job? He’ll be fine.” She stood and placed a hand on your shoulder, taking a final puff in the process. She blew out the smoke. “Like I said, they’re big boys. They’re just licking their wounds right now.”

You watched as she dropped the cigarette butt and stumped out its orange glow with her shoe.

“They’ll be fine,” she said. “Trust me.”

      /October 1st, 2018

You often forgot that Satoru was a human too. If you let the words of others, and even the words of the man himself poison you, you too might have been able to ignore that key detail. The only thing that worked to remind you that it was Gojo shouldering the responsibility of the world.

Throughout the heavens and earth, Gojo alone was the honoured one.

Alone.

He would always be alone. He was always alone. Amongst a crowd of people, he was alone. When he was with his students, he was alone. When he was with you and his other colleagues, he was alone. When he was in your bed on the odd times you both were able to sleep in each other’s arms after months of back-to-back missions—he was still alone.

It troubled you.

Despite being whatever you both were—bed buddies? Colleagues with benefits? Star-crossed lovers? You still couldn’t truly reach him. Nor could you fathom the depths of his loneliness or how heavy the head was that wore the thorned crown. It must have been agonising to be seen and acknowledged but not levelled. To be put on a throne you didn’t ask for and wield its power at unsatisfying levels against things that could only at best be considered insects, excruciating even. You imagined it was like holding back a scream of agony after losing a cherished one. Suppressing everything for the sake of not setting the world on fire—to not become the enemy.

But Gojo had no enemies.

        //December 24th, 2017

The sky was a deep azure gradating with the orange sunset forming pink and purple stained clouds the day Suguru Geto died. The stars were clear in the sky, and the air was crisp and fresh. It was a new day. Yet in those hours before so much had happened. So many had fought to stop the person you once called your friend. So many years of friendship, years of sitting in classrooms and shaking your head as he and Gojo goaded each other; years of catching the rebounds of their hoop sessions in the sports hall and laughing with them when they returned from their missions—were gone in a matter of hours.

It was just another day. Insignificant. Unsatisfying. There was no big bang, no screaming and shouting. It was just over.

You hadn’t been there when Suguru died. You hadn’t heard his last words or seen his face when Gojo killed him.  You didn’t get to see his smile again or hear his soft-spoken voice—the same one he’d use when he’d pat your head and call you kind for trying to stop his and Gojo’s fights, but ended up adding fuel to the raging fire because it was fun to watch Gojo pout. You hadn’t heard any of it, but Gojo had.

And he was alone.

“He’s gone,” Gojo said closing the door to the room in the morgue where Suguru’s corpse lay.  You caught a glimpse of Shoko adjusting her gloves and pulling the sheet over his face before you were completely cut off. “He won’t hurt anyone anymore,” Gojo said, his voice steady and empty.

“’Toru,” you said weakly, his nickname meek sounding on your lips.

He looked down at you, his lips pulled into a tight line like he was suppressing everything he wanted to say. If you could have seen his eyes behind the blindfold you were sure they were just as troubled. But you couldn’t because Gojo never showed weakness.

He is the strongest.

“I should have stopped him before—” he gulped, his fist clenching at his side. “I should have been there. I could have—.”

“Could have what?” you interjected. “Could have saved him? Could have talked him out of insanity?” You scoffed. “No, you couldn’t.” You knew it was the wrong time for tough love, especially when Gojo had willingly opened up to you, but you couldn’t meet him on his level. Your emotions were running too high—and you hated rehashing the past. And that’s all his words were doing for you. Restating not Gojo’s failure, but your own. “He killed his parents. He wiped out an entire village of people. He was prancing around like some born-again Buddha with an almighty saviour complex spouting nonsense about monkeys and mass genocide.”

Gojo remained still. He had no funny remarks or stupid grin. He was a ghost of himself. Before this in your eyes, Gojo Satoru had died once. It was after he returned from failing Tengen’s star plasma protection mission. And he never fully returned. It was like he was teetering on the edge; neither here nor there.

You knew he knew that you were right.

You were rarely wrong.

They’ll be fine, trust me.

You didn’t blame Shoko, or Gojo, or even Yaga. You blamed yourself. You should have been there for your friends. You could have been there for them… both of them. But you weren’t.  You were too weak. You weren’t Gojo or Suguru. You were you. Just another Grade One sorcerer growing alongside two Special Grade giants—watching them race on ahead and crash and burn without even attempting to catch up and put out the flames.

You didn’t have time to filter the words vomiting out of your mouth. “What? Do you think you could have brought him along on all those missions with you back then after Riko? Like he could have worked alongside you when you were acting like everyone was a burden?” You stood, pointing a single finger into his chest—not bothering to question that he was allowing you to touch him. That in front of you he had let his limitless technique down. He had met you midway and let you into his world just like you wanted, all because you were one of the last people he had whom he believed somewhat understood him beyond the bravado. “Have you forgotten that you alone are the strongest Satoru, not you and Suguru? Just you. And the moment that imbalance came—the moment you both realised that you were no longer equals—was when you could never have stopped him. If anything, you would have pushed him there faster.”

You dropped yourself back into your chair, burying your head in your hands. Tears fell quicker than you could stop them. And so, you let them and felt them soak your dark clothes.

Gojo didn’t attempt to comfort you or say anything for the matter. Instead, he stood over you as you sobbed—letting your tears slide off his loafers.

When your tears let up, and you finally were able to hear yourself think again you noticed the puddles on and around his shoes. You hadn’t known he was still there—that he had stood and let you say all of that to him, and not said a single word. Your eyes trailed slowly up his long legs, to his relaxed hands, his chest, and up to his blank blindfolded face, emotionless.

Dread incensed you, made your mouth dry and your eyes even drier. Guilt had you recalling everything and letting go of all your misplaced anger.

You’d said too much. He’d let you touch him, and you threw everything back in his face. All because of your selfish guilt.

“Satoru.” You didn’t miss how he flinched slightly at the word. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any of that. I am just upset. It’s not your fault.”

“No,” he said. “You’re right.”

His smile unnerved you; told you that you had fucked up.

“Throughout the heavens and earth, I alone am the honoured one.”

You went to touch his hand but were stopped inches away by his limitless technique. “Toru,” you pleaded, wishing that you could take it all back. That you could go back to who you both were before the world tore you all to shreds.

His fists clenched. “Only me,” he said.

And for the second time since you’d known him, Gojo Satoru died again.

    /October 1st, 2018

“I know you’re there,” he said.

You straightened, pushing off the door frame you took a hesitant step into the empty classroom. You had been so lost in thoughts that you didn’t realise he had stopped crying and had lifted his head, watching you through the blindfold.

Gojo lifted the rim of his mask. His unearthly blue eyes were tinged red around the edges and deep bags framed them. He gave you a weak smile—the gesture not leaving his lips. “You spyin’ on me?”

His tone didn’t hit when he looked so drained.

You slid the door closed behind you. You didn’t know why you did it. Perhaps you thought that some privacy would allow him the space to lower his guard. As if the flimsy sliding door could shut out the rest of the world, and let you in. “I came to check on you, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Check on me?” It hurt you how foreign those words sounded on his lips. He tilted his head, his already smiling lips pulling into a larger grin. “Did you miss me that much?”

You suppressed a frown. “Of course not, stupid.”

Missing would have been an understatement. Worried was more like it. Worried and pitied.

He laughed; the sound was a relief to your ears. Even if it was fake, you decided that seeing Gojo laugh was better than seeing him cry. You loved his laugh—his smile. You wondered how you could protect it. But the strongest didn’t need protecting. The strongest protected everyone else. That was his purpose. That was what he did.

Satoru Gojo alone was the honoured one.

“You love me,” he teased unaware of how true those words rang.

You did love him like how a sunflower loves the sun.

“When was the last time you slept?” You deflected.

“You sayin’ I look like shit?” He stretched his arms above his head, lifting out of his laid-back position. “Gee, thanks.”

“Don’t insult shit,” you said seriously.

He laid his head back again, lowering his blindfold over his eyes. “I was sleeping.”

You raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.”

You stood between his legs. “You can talk to me.”

He remained silent.

“Or not, we can just be in silence. It’s nice not hearing you speak for once,” you continued, lightening the mood. Unfortunately, your best way of comforting people was not comforting at all. If past events hadn’t been an indicator, you’d never been good with empathy, and you didn’t claim to be. Most of the time you avoided heavy conversations because of how awkward it would be to not relate to or understand any of what was being said to you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to but if you had a choice you would choose to not participate. Unless it was for Gojo and once upon a time, Suguru too.

Gojo was like you in that sense, well you thought Gojo was like you, but it turned out you were completely wrong on that front. The selfish man was the most empathetic person in the world. Who else could understand the burdens of these young sorcerers and vessels but the tool of the jujutsu world himself? He was thrust into a life of assassination attempts and responsibility from the day he was conceived after all.

                //August 2018.

Principal Yaga gave you a curt nod as he passed you in the corridor. He was exiting the faculty room leaving you to enact your perfect plan on Gojo. It was a simple prank.

An easy one.

You had to wait for him to be mid-conversation with his guard down. This meant ignoring his texts enough that he would be too busy spamming your phone with inappropriate messages and stickers, to notice you sneak in outside of his field of vision to surprise attack him from behind. It was nothing compared to the horrors he’d pulled on you this week. Gojo had taken to pranking you, so it was only fair to return the favour.

You weren’t playful often.  You tried to present yourself as the dependable stable one out of you and Gojo for the kid’s sake, and the rest of the faculty's sake too. However, sometimes the man tickled your nerves just enough to have you unable to do anything else but retaliate. This happened to be one of those times. You had no malicious intent aside from the crippling desire to avenge yourself because unlike Gojo you weren’t trying to embarrass him in front of the kids. Yours would just be a little jump scare.

You darted forward, your arms open wide to capture him from behind only to fall smack bang into thin air, frozen by the pressure of the limitless space between the two of you.  Being this close, you noticed the fine hairs on his neck standing on end like a startled cat.

Was Gojo afraid?

“Failed,” he said cooly, stepping forward and releasing you from his invisible hold. “Ya should’ve tried a different approach.”

“How did you?” you asked, your words falling off.

He spun to look at you “Back shot? really? I know you can do better. If you wanted to peg me you could have just asked. I’d buy the strap-on and everything so ya don’t have to worry your pretty little head.”

You went to wack him but his limitless once again halted you. “It was going to be a hug, you freak.” You lowered your hand. “Besides, I’m sure you were shit scared just then—admit it.”

Gojo laughed and squeezed your cheeks, pulling and stretching your face like playdough. “You’re adorable.”

“I’m not,” you swat his hands away.

“You didn’t respond to any of my texts,” he said. His hand traced down your face before lifting your chin to look at his masked eyes. “Now that you’re here though, you can answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Are we on for tonight?”

Your cheeks flushed, but you held your focus refusing to give him another thing to annoy you with. “You’re really not going to explain why you’re sitting in the faculty office with limitless on? Utahime isn’t even here to throw stuff at you,” you deflected.

He wrapped his other arm around you, bringing you into a hold that was too intimate for school grounds. With a dip of his head, he brushed his lips over yours. When you went to kiss back, he pulled back, smirked, and then dipped down again. You couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy kissing Gojo. Any woman in their right mind would die to be in your position—fuck it, you over ten years ago would have died to be here too; alone with this gorgeous man. However, not even his lips or his curious hand slipping under your shirt and clasping your bra could distract you enough from the fact that even in an empty faculty room he was on guard; waiting for an attack—for something to disrupt his peace.

He broke the kiss, your residue lip gloss glistened on his lips. “I’m going to need compensation later for the emotional damage your failed assassination attempt caused me. PTSD is real you know.”

He manhandled your face with the hand still caressing your chin. The door opened and Nanami entered with a mug in his hands and a newspaper tucked under his arm. Gojo let you go at least letting you save some face. You reclasped your bra bashfully.

You brushed off your clothes. “Nanami.”

Nanami greeted you in return, setting his coffee on the coffee table and sitting on one of the adjacent sofas.

“Na-na-mi! Aren’t ya just the most respected man I was looking for? What do ya say we hang out for a bit and talk about the social and political state of the world?” Gojo grinned.

The stiff ex-salary man’s response was immediate. “No.” His attention moved to Gojo, who wore your gloss like a trophy.

Gojo turned to you and shrugged, sticking his tongue out comically.

You shook your head, wishing he would give the other man a break. Not everyone had a high threshold for Gojo’s buffoonery, and Nanami was one of those people.

“How about we go to this bakery they sell good kikufuku and we could—” Gojo tried again.

“No.” Nanami opened his newspaper.

“But—”

“Have you considered putting a leash on him?” Nanami asked you.

Gojo snapped his fingers. “Kinky, I like the way you think, Nanami. I’ll buy a leash and collar whilst we’re in town—it’ll be perfect for tonight.” He draped an arm over your shoulders and leaned down till his lips brushed the shell of your ears. “Would you like to be my pet?”

“I think Nanami was implying that you should control yourself,” you muttered, your body tense. You feared not only was Gojo probably serious, but he also now had discovered another avenue in which to stroke his raging God complex.

“But it would be more fun to control you,” he said.

Flabbergasted, you shoved him—well you tried to.

Gojo stepped back his arms up in surrender and limitless once again on. He laughed menacingly. “I’ll take that as yes.”

Nanami cleared his throat, aggressively.

 “I’ll get you a cute blue collar to match my eyes,” Gojo said to you. “I know how much you love them. That way when I am fucking you, you’ll know who you belong to.”

Your eyes widened. “You—”

Both disturbed and visibly disgusted, Nanami closed his paper, picked up his coffee, and evacuated the room.

Gojo gave you a fleeting kiss on your temple. “Na-na-mi! Wait for me.” He strode off after his junior, abandoning you in the faculty room. “I wasn’t done asking you whether you think this shirt makes my butt look too big. Hey! We’re going into town remember. Don’t ignore me! Na-na-mi~!”

    / October 1st, 2018.

Gojo’s chest shook gently as he inaudibly laughed.

You went to take a step back deciding that you had been out of your mind asking Gojo to open up to you, only to be stopped by his legs closing against your thighs trapping you in place.

 “You tryna leave me?” he asked.

“You weren’t speaking.”

“You said ya liked my silence,” Gojo said.

You scoffed. “I didn’t realise that now would be the time you would decide to take someone else’s advice besides your own.”

He raised his head to look at you, mask still in place over his eyes. “I always listen to other people’s advice; I just don’t always take it. And today happened to be a good day for silence.” He raised a finger, pointing upwards. “Can ya hear that?”

You stopped, waiting to hear something out of the ordinary. You looked around the classroom taking in the empty wooden space before turning back to see that stupid big smile once again on his moisturized lips.

“So not only are you taking other people’s advice but you’re also lying?” You shook your head. “That’s a new low even for you, Toru.”

He pouted and reached his arms around you pulling your hips forward. He hugged you like a koala, his head resting on your lower abdomen. “I’m just playing with you.”

“Play with someone else, you’ve expended my nice quota for the day.” You tried to wiggle out of his grasp. “Let me go.”

Gojo held you tighter. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

You halted your actions. “For what?” you asked breathlessly. You didn’t need to ask, and he didn’t need to tell you for you both to know what he meant. Your hands remained by your side too afraid to touch him. Too afraid to do anything that might freak you both out and break whatever emotional domain you’d locked yourselves in.

“I’m going to die one day,” he said softly. “And I’ll remember this moment when death comes.”

You don’t speak; afraid that he’ll stop if you do.

You imagined the thought of his death soothed him in a way. It was the final frontier, and in both your line of work, it meant that you had been defeated. Bested. Beaten at your own game. It meant that you’d given your all and, in the end, it just wasn’t enough. That you as a warrior had fought with all you might and come out the loser. You’d tried. You’d been tested and you’d finally been chosen unworthy. You imagined that despite how much his words hurt you to consider, the thought of death at the hands of someone stronger than him would be an honour. A blessing. It would be the moment when Gojo Satoru, the enlightened one, finally could be human.

After all, death was the ultimate leveller—the unequivocal equalizer.

His grip loosened slightly as he relaxed his weight against you. “Then I’ll be allowed to rest without regrets,” he said. You don’t miss the end of the statement although it is whispered barely in hearing range. “And maybe I’ll be able to greet you both again on the same level, finally.”

“Thought you didn’t believe in all that?” you asked.

He chuckled. “A guy can dream, right?”

                // December 24th, 2018

“Satoru,” Suguru says, a bright smile on his youthful face. He appears to be about sixteen. “Long time no see.” He is sitting a seat away from Satoru in his jujutsu uniform. 

“Blegh!” A younger Gojo coughs shooting forward in his seat. The force of the action causes his circular glasses to slide down his nose.

“You couldn’t have held on a little longer?” a younger you asks, sitting beside him, also in your uniform. “I was rooting for you to make it, so, I could at least decay in my grave a bit more. Don’t tell me you missed me or something?”

Suguru calls out your name. “That’s not very kind of you, you didn’t even let him land.”

“He’s the one who hasn’t let me land. I only died in Shibuya less than two months ago. At least you got a year to compose yourself accordingly.”

Suguru nods in defeat, his smile remaining.

“Currently dying again here,” Gojo says between coughing fits.

You and Suguru pat Gojo’s back.

“You’re kidding me this sucks,” Gojo says. He slumps back in the chair, sighing. He doesn’t spare either you or Suguru a glance, seemingly annoyed.

Suguru hunches over and shakes his head. “Pretty rude thing to say right after seeing someone’s face.” He shoots you an exasperated look.

You respond with an unsurprised lift of your shoulder.

 Gojo scrunches his face. “I’ve always told my students.” He raises his fingers in quotation marks. “‘When you die, you’ll die alone.’ So please tell me this is just some ridiculous dream.”

You snort.

“Does it matter?” Suguru says.

“There’s nothing you can do about it either way,” you add, pulling his ear. “We are all dead either way, stupid.”

He swats your hand away and scratches his head. “No shit.” He looks perplexed. “Fuck, and there’s still all that stuff with his dad.”

“Megumi’s?” you ask. You’d sort of presumed he knew. “Thought you’d said you wanted to die without regrets?”

Gojo looks up at the high airport ceiling thoughtfully. “I asked Shoko to handle it.”

“Of course, you did,” you whisper. “Always a step ahead.”

A wistful smile appears on his lips. “Always.”

You begin to mindlessly play with the back of Gojo’s hair.

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes.

“So, how was the king of curses?” Suguru says segueing the question to the culprit of Gojo’s demise.

“Insanely fucking strong, and I could tell he wasn’t giving it all he had.” When your hand stops massaging the back of his head, he reaches back and takes your hand into his. “Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve won even if he didn’t have Megumi’s ten shadows.”

Suguru brows raise. “I’m shocked anyone could make you admit that.”

“I’m not,” you admit.

Gojo gives you a bashful look. He squeezes your hand in his.

It’s odd for you to see him be so openly vulnerable, but you like it. No, you love it.

Gojo looks down. “I feel kinda sorry for him,” he admits softly.

Suguru glances at you quizzically but you give him no reaction, allowing Gojo the space to continue. You’re not sure if he means Megumi or Sukuna or maybe both, but you decide to listen anyway.

“I’m no stranger to feeling isolated,” Gojo starts. “There was always this gulf between me and other people. Even if they adored me. You can admire a beautiful flower…but you can’t ask it to understand you.”

Suguru straightens in his seat.

Gojo lets go of your hand, scrunching his hand into a fist. “I put everything I had into tryin’ to reach him. To make him understand…all my physical training techniques I mastered… my explosiveness, quick thinking, and attempts at humor. I gave it my all, but it wasn’t enough. The loneliness that comes with unrivalled strength…the one who will teach you about love is—” he pauses, “I had fun.”

You place your hand on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He gives you a thankful nod. He releases a weak laugh, the mood lightening. “Sukuna wasn’t able to give me his all though. And I think that’s a damn shame.”

 “Consider me jealous, at least you had the satisfaction of going out with a bang,” Suguru says.

“Satisfaction, huh?” Gojo scoffs. “I guess my only disappointment was that you weren’t there to slap me on the back.”

Suguru laughs.

“But I guess I am glad I died facing a strong opponent. It’d have been embarrassing if I let some disease or old age get the best of me,” Gojo says.

“What are you a samurai?”

Gojo's eyes widen.

A sly grin appears on your face when you watch Gojo turn around to see a young Nanami and Haibara sitting behind you all. They begin to scuffle for a while mocking Gojo for his selfish mindset in life. You remain silent, watching him the way you always do.

Gojo is the strongest.

Those words still hold despite you both dying. His strength isn’t just about his physical prowess but his mental one. It is why you love him, you decide, even though it kept you worlds apart in life.

“What ya thinking?” Gojo whispers bumping your shoulder playfully.

“Nothing much,” you whisper back. You flip your hand palm up on Gojo’s thigh and he interlocks your fingers.

“Don’t look like nothing much,” Gojo teases leaning down to search your eyes.

You dip your head, watching your interlaced hands. “I’m just glad we’re all together again.”

You don’t look but you hear Gojo’s smile. It sounds like an endless blue ocean crashing against a yellow sandy shore. It feels like the sun warming you back to life.

Gojo lifts your hand and kisses the back of it. “Me too,” he says. “Which one are you choosing North or South?”

“Does it matter what I chose?” you ask not disclosing your choice.

“Maybe.” His gaze flicks to your lips. “Definitely.”

“When did you two get all sappy?” Suguru interrupts. “It’s disgusting.”

“Exactly,” Nanami adds. “I had to endure that. Trust me it gets worse.”

“Sounds to me like a whole lot of bitchless jealousy,” Gojo says, raising his voice over their declarations. “Personally, could never be me.”

 Haibara laughs. “I think it’s cute. Good for you, Gojo-san. Finding love despite your personality.”

Gojo grins and pulls you into his chest. “Thanks, Haibara. See, ‘least someone is happy for me.”

Suguru snickers.

Nanami rolls his eyes.

“I think that was an insult,” you say, raising a finger.

Gojo dramatically hushes you placing a long finger to your lips. “’m taking what I can get. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“When have I ever been? You act out of pocket all the time. Someone has to help Suguru humble you.”

Gojo shakes his head. “Betrayed by my girl and my best friend…that’s crazy. Not even in death can I catch a break.”

The airport fills with the sound of laughter.

And in these short moments, laying against Gojo’s chest encased in his comforting scent as he bickers with Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara, you feel like nothing is blocking the front of either of your eyes. Like in some absurd way, this is what Gojo meant. You know that even if these days fade… even if you’ve come to know his world, different from yours in the depths of eternity left behind…even now the blue remains—clear; in the summer colours that refract off your cheeks like crystals becoming one with the endless sea.

Gojo’s thumb brushes your cheek smudging away the tears. He says your name softly. “You cryin’?” He asks peering down at you from above.

You reach up and pull off his dark sunglasses. You see those blue eyes, glimmering like sunlight on water, or like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy that used to spill through the gaps between your fingers. And they’re staring straight back at you. Asking ‘Will we meet again?’

You nod, unable to say the words that are stuck in your throat.

But Gojo doesn’t need to hear it, a grin forming, nevertheless.

“Hey, Principal!” Gojo shouts looking up and spotting Yaga up ahead trying not to be noticed. “Thought ya said no Jujutsu sorcerers die without regret?”

   / October 1st, 2018.

You let your hand slowly move to his white hair, caressing the soft locks. “You know, you’re pretty weak for the strongest man,” you said endearingly.

“Maybe I’m pranking you?” he muttered. “Making ya let your guard down and believe I am weak so that I can get some. I am prone to lyin’ ya know.”

You hummed in disbelief. “What an unfunny lie.”

“What a sick twisted joke,” he agreed.

Thanks for reading!

KO-FI MASTERLIST

[softxsuki]

Hey, congrats on your new milestone! I was hoping to participate in your event if that’s okay! Could I do your song drabble one with ‘Figure You Out’ by VOILÀ with Gojo from JJK. GN!Reader please! It would be great if you could include the line ‘I could love you with my eyes closed’ ‘Kiss you with a blindfold’ ‘Figure you out (mm-mmh)’ romantic with fluff please! Thank you!

1.5k Follower Event Song Drabble "Figure You Out" With Gojo (JJK)

This event is now closed. You can view the masterlist here.

| Pairing: Gojo x Gn!Reader| Genre: fluffish | Post-Type: Drabble | Word Count: 970 |

Warnings: slight swearing, y/n's date neglecting them

Note: Happy first day of October :3 Finally it's starting to cool down a lot and I'm living for it. It's already midnight, I was busy all weekend long so I forgot it was Monday, aka, my posting day. Thankfully I wrote this one in advance, so it only needed to be edited a bit and posted :D. Hope you enjoy!

Gojo was pissed, beyond pissed as you dragged him with you to introduce him to the guy you’d been talking to for a few weeks now. As your best friend, it was mandatory for him to get to know the guys you dated, but he already hated this one based on the things you had shared with him.

He was selfish and never took the time to figure you out; never cared enough to do things you liked to do or go to restaurants that you liked, oblivious to anything that interested you. Currently the three of you were seated at a table at a restaurant with food you couldn’t even eat, yet you quietly sat beside your date, looking through the menu to see if you could find anything that caught your eye.

“They can’t eat this food,” Gojo says flatly, not even bothering to look through the menu, a bored expression on his face as he finally gets the chance to see the guy who was absolute trash. The guy who stole his chance to finally confess to you after years of crushing on you and just as he was about to risk it all and ask you out, this guy had come out of nowhere and whisked you away.

“They’re literally looking through the menu, stop speaking for them man,” the guy rolls his eyes, already set on what he wanted since he was a regular at this place.

Gojo glares at him as you awkwardly glance between them, before Gojo abruptly stands up and drags you off with him. The guy tries to grab him to stop him, but can’t even touch him because of Gojo’s infinity, as the white haired man wordlessly takes you where your date can’t hear.

“Why are you putting up with that piece of shit?” He huffs, releasing your arm once they both of you are far away from your date.

“He’s not that bad…” you sigh, knowing the words leaving your mouth were lies. The man you really wanted was the white haired one right in front of you,  but he was your best friend, there was no way he felt the same for you.

“‘Not that bad’ my ass, he’s done nothing but think of himself the second we entered this place. There’s not a damn thing on this menu that you like. He should know that by now! Or does he just not care enough to even ask what you like? I’m sure you’ve spoken about yourself to him, that's how dating works, but he hasn’t remembered anything you’ve told him, has he?” He grits, extremely worked up by this.

“He’s all I have, Satoru. I’ve had so much bad luck with dating, I can’t just dump him for something as small as forgetting the foods I like or don’t like. I need to at least give him more time to see if he’s worth it…” you sigh, leaning back against the wall.

“You don’t need to do anything! Do you even actually like this guy?” 

You pause for a moment. You felt bad that this guy was more of a way for you to try and get over your best friend who you couldn't imagine liking you back. “I- I’m still getting to know him…”

Bull. It was a load of bull.

Gojo, grabs your chin and tilts it up so you’re looking at him, taking a deep breath of courage.

“Leave him and be with me,” he says confidently, his heart hammering in his chest. He had never been so nervous in his entire life, if you didn’t feel the same way, then him saying this would ruin your friendship, but he needed to tell you.

Your eyes widen in shock, unsure if what you heard was real or not.

“Satoru wh-” he cuts you off before you can even finish speaking.

“Shut up and just listen for a second. I know everything about you, your favorite color, the facial expressions you make when you’re happy and upset, every subtle eyebrow move–I know it all. I know you like the back of my hand and remember every detail you’ve ever told me. You know why? Because I’m in love with you, dammit. I’ve been in love with you for years now, but have been too scared to say anything,” eh says, looking straight into your eyes.

“I could love you with my eyes closed, kiss you with my blindfold and figure you out. I may have the six eyes, but I don’t need them to figure out the things you love, or the way you prefer things. Drop that guy, and give that chance to me. I’ll treat you better,” he whispers slowly, dropping his hands from your chin, his blindfold raised, exposing his beautiful blue eyes so you can see the truth in them.

“Yeah, let's do it,” you say finally, surprising him and yourself.

“What?” He asks in shock, taking a step back and leaning against the opposite wall, one of his hands rising to touch his forehead.

“Let’s do it. You’re not the only one who’s been silently longing to be together. I love you too…I just didn’t think you’d be into me like that. With your history with women and all…” you groan.

“Yeah, but you’re you. How could I not love you?” He smirks. “Let’s ditch this loser, just text him that you’re done with him. I’ll take you somewhere you’d actually love.”

And that sounded perfect to you as you quickly message your date that it wasn’t working out, as the both of you sneak out the back door, hopping into Gojo’s car as he drives you to your favorite restaurant (which was a lot more fancy and nice for a date than the fast food place your other date had taken you to).

Posted: 10/1/2024

[aishangotome]

HI I'M BACK WITH IKEPRI

HELLOOOO!

I recently had an emergency hip surgery due to a hip fracture so I'm kind of handicapped for another month+ before I learn to walk again via PT. With that being said, I've been so into games that I took a pause on translations. Some updates:

YGL will no longer be updated. They announced that they would be suspending all new content moving forward, and have scheduled re-runs of events through now until March. Beyond that, they will let us know later on if they need to close all servers (both CN and TW), but would give us a 3 month notice should they decide to do so.

I'm going to be translating some IkePri things again from JP! So far, I'm only back on IkePri NA/JP and have not touched the other Ike Series yet. I've cut down on a lot of games lately to make time for Sword of Justice/Justice Online (TW MMORPG) and Infinity Nikki (another open-world RPG), and have only kept a few otome games that I REALLY love (LaDS, LN, BtW, etc.). Therefore, I'm only adding back on IkePri for now.

Since I'm back on IkePri and there are new things that I've missed, I'll likely be working on translating Clavis' Curse of Love Arch, as well as Azel's main story (it's coming out in less than a week!!). I'll work on events if I can find people uploading videos of them :)

That's all the updates I have for now! Hope you guys have all been doing well~

[oldwritingm]

hi :) so i saw u were doing the match up request things and wanted to try one! could it be for ninjago, i like men (unfortunately). lets see, soo..i’m a girl, half porto rican-half white (i was raised bilingual i know Spanish and english) have a little bit more curvy pear shaped figure, a few freckles on my cheeks, bigger lips/smaller nose, i have brown curly hair, my smile is squinty, and i have central heterochromia (the much more common, kinda lame version of having two different color eyes) where the outside of my eye is green and a sharp ring around my iris is yellow (my mom calls them my stars<3) and, yeah for appearance ig thats it. as far as personality, i’m really just like if loralai Gilmore from Gilmore girls didn’t like coffee. i love photography, art, nature, cats, i collect old post cards/old photographs, i have an old 2003 digital camera i thrifted that i bring everywhere, my favorite colors are green/pink, i love taylor swift and mitski and alex g, i read comics, i take pictures of every tree andddd… lots of other stuff but i ramble haha anyways have a wonderful day<3<3 to infinity and beyond, mars ⭐️

From one central heterochromia haver to another (yours sound so pretty tho,,)… I match you with:

Lloyd Garmadon!!

A few headcanons:

He thinks it’s so cool that you know English and Spanish

He’ll ask you how to say something in Spanish, then proceed to repeat it in the most American accent you’ve ever heard

He’s trying tho :(

You guys bond over your love of nature and comics

Lloyd loves to go on hikes/nature walks with you, and he’ll help you find neat things to take pictures of

On that note, he 100% supports your photography hobby

His room is gradually overtaken by photos you’ve given him

He’s not complaining though; he adores each and every one

As for your love of comics, you guys give each other recommendations and swap issues

You love to gush about your favorites and predict what will happen future issues

You absolutely lose your minds when you end up being right

If/when you move in together, you adopt a cat

You’re both huge cat people, so that little fuzzball gets treated like your biological child

You always speak super affectionately about it when in public, so people actually assume that it is a human baby

They’re so confused when they find out it’s a cat

This becomes a bit of an inside joke between you two

Lloyd likes to call you “dear,” “love,” and “bright eyes”

(He loves your eyes so much)

He likes to be called “baby,” “honey,” and “sweetie”

A drabble!

You smiled to yourself as you snapped a picture of a grove of aspens, their leaves tainted a sophisticated gold that was complimented excellently by the afternoon sunshine.

“Over here!” You heard Lloyd beckon, making your head snap over in his direction.

Moving away from the aspens, you came to a gnarled old tree. Lloyd was standing proudly in front of it, pointing to it with a huge grin. “Isn’t it cool?”

You nodded eagerly, readying your camera already. A few seconds passed, and the little click never came. You pursed your lips, disgruntled. “I can’t get a good angle.”

Lloyd frowned, his brow furrowing in contemplation as he stared at the tree. Then, with a sudden light in his eyes, he stepped closer to you and dropped to his knees.

“Get on my shoulders.”

You hesitated, but decided that the picture would be worth the effort. You squealed as he practically jumped to his feet, jostling you perilously.

You finally snapped the perfect picture. Grinning at your camera, you rubbed Lloyd’s head affectionately.

“Thanks, sweetie. You can put me down now.”

Lloyd hummed in thought, drumming his hands on your knees for a moment before continuing down the trail with you still on his shoulders.

“Lloyd! Put me down!” You laughed, playfully smacking his head.

“No.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

It wasn’t until you completed your walk that Lloyd finally relented and put you down.

“Finally! You rascal,” you giggled, shoving him lightly.

“Hey, you got some good pictures, didn’t you?”

You huffed. “Okay, I will admit that.”

Lloyd winked with a good-natured grin. “Glad I could help.” He kissed your cheek, grasping your hand before continuing on your path home.

And a song!

My Love Mine All Mine (Mitski)

'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love, my, my, mine

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine

…

My baby here on earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

So, when it comes to be my turn

Could you shine it down here for her?

Thank you for your support! You truly do mean so so much to me <33 I hope this was okay!

(divider by saradika)

[acaciapines]

for the ask game, answer whichever of these speak to you the most: 4, 5, 11, 14 :D

HI ASH MY LOVE ASH.

oh they ALWAYS speak to me. i answer All. i will not be contained.

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

actually shockingly few! ever since i finished my big owl house editing pass back in june i've not done a whole lot in terms of projects...and recently i've been playing rain world so instead of writing im playing rain world like 24/7. currently my only main project is the dess raises kris au, and in that 'verse the only thing i'm writing right now is a dess/chara relationship study. i WOULD finish it, but, uh. rain world. (<- guy who is trying so hard not to write rain world fic. i probably wont but also i am always tormented by ideas. but consider i have to tell the story of my slugpup scooter SCOOTER I WONT EVER FORGET YOU--)

5. What's a fic idea you've had that you will never write?

probably countless that i do not remember right now! but digging around through my drafts, i've got a few deltarune daemon aus that won't ever see the light of day...one of them was a fangame where the player played as one of kris's two daemons, and the other was a fic where ralsei was kris's daemon. the ideas from there have basically been repurposed elsewhere--a lot of my kris&ralsei stuff went into various works, and the fangame stuff is being reworked into the dess raises kris au.

beyond that, in terms of things that are actually abandoned and won't be used elsewhere, there are so many daemon aus that i've left behind for one reason or another, though the gravity falls transcendence au is the one that i think was the best...that one postcanon his dark materials fic i was gonna write where lyra and pan return to will's world and cause general shenanigans there with him and kirjava...a vera-centric son of sea foam wings of fire au because vera is the love of my life and i was rereading wings of fire bc i felt nostalgic....oh my god fantasy high SOPHOMORE YEAR FIC, which i tried to start TWICE, once from fig's pov and once from ayda's that was their road trip back home and i have some very funny snippets from...MY INFINITY TRAIN DAEMON AU WAIT THAT ONE STILL GOES SO HARD ACTUALLY. okay drop everything ive ever said the fact that i never wrote my infinity train book two daemon au is a travesty. i was cooking with that one.

11. Do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

sort of! i usually always have at least one or two songs i connect to any given fic, but in terms of what i listen to when actually WRITING, it's changed over the years. i used to put on compilations of video game music--usually utdr, pmd, and then just whatever got recommended to me lol--then i did like. those character playlists people make on youtube? mostly bc they tended to pull from the same pool of songs so it became good background noise lol. now i use the youtube mix or whatever its called for a similar reason--it tends to play the same handful of songs ive listened to a lot, so they dont distract me.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

oh i LOVE this question, and it would be without a doubt my nimona daemon au oh, are you at all like me. nimona itself is obviously both a comic and a movie, and i'd say animated film since the fic follows the movie plot more--i think there'd be a LOT of really cool scenes you could get with that fic. i also think i could make killer animatics based on my fics if i could draw good enough <3 and thats not a joke i have scripts and sketch storyboards and everything. maybe one day i'll finish one of those.

[sturnioloshacker]

1000 followers celebration pt. 2

part 2 is finally here! please click the keep reading tab to begin reading the mini essay that made me sob while writing it

hey besties!

thank you so very much for 1000 followers, it means the absolute world to me to achieve this goal. your likes, reblogs, comments and follows are all so appreciated. your love and support is just so insane and i can't put it into words how much you guys mean to me.

i started this tumblr all the way back in 2017 and it started off as a wwe and cnco page where i would just shitpost all things wwe and cnco. i didn't think that i would get followers and i didn't think that i'd find people with the same interests as me. fast forward to today and i have so many people who have the same interests as me and who share the same love for these interests as much as i do.

this tumblr has gone through so many changes as i found many different things to obsess over and so many followers who followed me and began to interact with me. it's been a crazy rollercoaster to say the least! i honestly didn't think i'd ever reach 1000 followers so to hit that milestone is unbelievable and i'm still in shock.

to all of my amazing, beautiful, lovely mutuals. to name you all would make this essay even longer than it probably already is but you all know exactly who you are. whether it's been from day one or just in the past year or so, you have all played such a massive role in my tumblr journey. from all your likes to all your follows, you guys have made this tumblr into what it is today.

this experience has been so unreal and we're still going up from here. thank you all for your unconditional love and support, it means everything to me. i love you all so much, it's crazy! stay tuned for more fics, more posts, and so much more only on freshlovehacker! speaking of staying tuned, keep your eyes open for part 3 coming soon!

thank you besties, i love you all to infinity and beyond 🧡

[starmora]

Personally I think everything about vol 3 would have been nearly perfect if you didn't have such a stark contrast between the abuse validation plot Gunn signed off on Gamora getting and the abusers shouldn't get to win plot he wrote for vol 3. There is also the contrast between the blatant emotional outpouring of love all the guardians were shown in this movie in both good and bad circumstances compared to the lack of emotional outpouring over Gamora's death.

Gamora would have been better off willingly sacrificing herself in vol 2 than being killed by her abuser after being jerked around by him for most of the movie. They also could have skipped killing her. Nobody needed that part. Not me, not you and certainly not Gamora. Getting to skip over the abuse apologist commentary that followed and Peter was the real villain talks would have been nice too.

The way Thanos got prioritized over Gamora's importance to gotg sucks all around.

SPOILERS

That’s what I’m saying :((((( like I loved this movie. It had everything that I’ve loved about gotg since the very beginning and then some, and everything I was missing after infinity war and beyond. The movie was nearly perfect to me. But the Gamora stuff sticks out like a sore thumb and I can’t let it go and I feel like it’s justifiable to be pointing that out as a flaw.

I can accept Ravager Gamora. I know in my heart that she IS still a guardian, even while being with the ravagers. She’s no less a guardian than mantis or Quill right now. Like I’m aware of all of that lmao and I know this was the BEST ending possible for her given the circumstances and I know I’m like a broken record saying this but it’s TRUE. But the thing about all of it, is that I know this was more or less forced on her because she was taken from another point in the timeline and plopped down here with no choice but to quickly adapt, and this happened because she was brutally murdered by her abuser after being kidnapped by him and having to do what she needed to to keep her sister from literally being tortured. And I just can’t fucking let that go, ESPECIALLY after what I had to listen to afterward, where all people wanted to talk about was how well actually maybe Thanos did love her and maybe he actually had a point and wait a minute, you know who is actually the most terrible person in the world and we should all blame everything on? The only guy who even showed even a fraction of emotion for this poor girl we all just watched die.

I just hate that she basically was robbed of her life. Both Gamora’s were, in a way. It just sucks, and that’s made even more apparent because the rest of the movie is amazing. It all just boils down to the fact that she shouldn’t have been killed in infinity war.

[wack-ashimself]

Overdone Super Hero Movie tropes (you can only pick 3. Otherwise, it's a shit movie.)

1-(Graphically, recently, or during the movie) Dead parents. Dead spouse. Dead kids. Dead sibling. Dead loved friend. It is a fucking MIRACLE if their family is healthy and fine the whole time.

2-Killing tons of grunts/soldiers/etc, but THEN showing mercy to the main bad guy WHO HAS KILLED MORE THAN ALL THE SOLDIERS HE KILLED ALREADY COMBINED!

3-Sky beam. I totally stole this from like 3 youtube channels. Everyone hates the fucking sky beam.

4-Talking/monologuing to the audience or themselves.

5-A soundtrack clearly picked to seduce a specific generation. 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, 00s, and soon! 10s...(and it doesn't have to be time period current.)

6-Trying to be funny/knowing you're funny to the point you're breaking the '3.999999^infinity-rd' wall (almost the 4th wall) and then it stops-being-funny.

7-CGI battles so fast and blurry, you don't even know what's going on. And a million quick cuts ain't fucking helping. Use real sets so it looks like a real fucking fight.

8-No one ever acknowledging the collateral damage (people to buildings alike) they are doing. <Watch 'Invincible' for the MOST GRAPHIC SUPERMAN-LIKE FIGHT EVER!>

9-Basically, no one important dying. SURE, someone died, and they were kinda loved, but...meh. If there are not any stakes, then it's like watching a preschooler's cartoon: we know it all comes out perfect in the end.

10-The bad guy kills his/her own henchperson. COME ON> OVERPLAYED.

11-They introduce side characters that they either dive REAL deep into or NOT at all, then they disappear/don't matter later in the movie (or series).

12-They introduce you to a character you hate initially, but then you find out their backstory with the lead, and you fall in love...then they KILL THEM OFF OUT OF NOWHERE, right when you were ready to open up your heart! Right when you thought a glimmer of hope appeared!! RIGHT WHEN... ... ....YONDU! WHY DID THEY DO YOU LIKE THAT, YONDU!? ... ... ... ...(okay, this one may not count...)

13-There's absolutely no real character arc. They came in as 'a', left as 'A', and some 'BS' happened in the middle.

14-The lead baddie is more interesting than the lead. That's a sin. You go to bad bad land.

15-THE MAIN BAD GUY DOES NOT KILL THE HERO WHEN GIVEN ANY OPPORTUNITY> Fuck that. You'll kill millions of innocents, but not the dude who has been trying to stop you and ruin all your plans? DUMB> DUMB DUMB DUMB. I am SO desperate for anything new, I'd even let a few 'actually kills them but they're brought back to life' fly....(not too many, you slippery fucks).

16 (#12 being kinda a joke one, I wanted an even 15. Spoilers for Ant-man 3.)-'Comes in at the last moment, out of left field, saving grace.' And you can take this how you will, but my personal example was THE FUCKING ANTS IN ANT-MAN 3 WHO WERE HYPER INTELLIGENT AND SAVED THE MULTIVERSE> Ant-man did not do shit. Not really. It was fucking HYPER INTELLIGENT SUPER ANTS WHICH YOU HAD NO IDEA ABOUT TILL THE END OF THE MOVIE. The ONLY hints were: super intelligent ants went into the whatever tiny verse with them (so? So did a table). The old fuck hears something that irritates his headset with the ants. But did that explain them EVOLVING BEYOND HUMANS BECAUSE THEY LIVED THRU MILLIONS OF YEARS AFTER GOING THRU THE SAME PORTAL AS EVERYONE ELSE, BUT ENDING UP SOMEWHERE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT? No. No it did not. At fucking all. In any way. They never explained how the ants, again who lived millions of years somewhere else (cuz Kang didn't even know about them) found the leads and got to them RIGHT IN THE NICK OF TIME. It made no fucking sense. FUCK THAT HORRIBLE ASS MOVIE! (it's why I wrote this fucking list).

Fuck it.

#17-Again from ant man 3. Taking away some of the best parts of your other movies (his posse/crew/work buddies) and adding in old elements no one gave a fuck about (the villain in the original movie. NO ONE GAVE A FUCK, ANT SHIT!)

<what ones did I miss? PLEASE tell me! I want to know so I can go 'fuck, I knew that, but forgot.' Or didn't even consider. Blow my mind! Should it be more than 3 cuz it's impossible to make a movie that doesn't have SOME of these? Also, can you name ANY Superhero movie that doesn't do ANY of these? CHALLENGE! And do not even hate watch ant man 3. It's incredibly disappointing. Like it is amazing how much work it took to fail.>

[the-rookinator-3000]

IM SORRYYYY I LIKE CALLIE! SHES SILLY AND GOOFY AND VERY NICE I CAN ADMIT THAT! I JUST... don't really have a favorite... i always cared way more about salmon run stuff than literally anything else in the game...

and speaking of which oh my god FINALLY someone who also loves salmon run. i'm so enamored with the horror aspect of it. just the whole system of going to war with the honor of accepting a death fought tooth and nail for... a massive swarm of bloodthirsty fish who want nothing more than to see your ink on the walls... and man it is INTENSE. splat3 salmon run is SO MUCH HARDER than splat2. way more mobs and way tougher ranks - the danger percent can go up to 333%. insane. and then of course the lore of the gamemode itself is great too - even beyond splat3's story mode, it's so fascinating to see their culture and the kinds of fish that can develop depending on conditions. and of course the aesthetic of it being much more grungy and dark and industrial than the rest of splatoon is just so very good.

i doubt you have a favorite fish (i mean what kinda crazy guy would! hahah °_ °") but please allow me to tell you how much i LOVE horrorboros. first of all he looks so fucking awesome. very solid design and detail. and he looks like a SNAKE FISH. two of the world's greatest creations in ONE... AND he KILLED it in the first impressions department! like:

HOW AWESOME IS THAT??? i'll tell you just how awesome it is: HELLA!!!!!

secondly, the symbolism of horrorboros' original symbol (uroboros as i'm sure you're aware of) is just SUCH an incredible pick for salmon run. first of all, it's just a very good ancient symbol in general (i'm a sucker for cyclical motifs that embody infinity...) and secondly it is very fitting to the salmonid's culture in general! the strong focus on consumption and a salmon's life cycle in general, with the babies using the nutrients from their parent's corpse (it isn't exactly pretty) to survive, both make uroboros an incredible pick to draw inspiration from for a king salmonid. i love horrorboros so very much. what a great snake fish <3

(if you do happen to have a favorite salmonid... feel free to tell me... :-) i quite enjoy the salmonids if you couldn't tell already)

GOOD. BE SORRY >:[ and HEY YEA i've always been a big fan of salmon run's COMPLETELY different vibe from the rest of splatoon (u could argue it fits with splat 3, but that also is cuz of the whole "chaos" theme ehehaha) (<- just realized u already said this whilr i was reading back whoops)

im gonna put more of my opinions here...

OKAY SO yes!!! i really love the horror parts of salmon run! usually splatoon handles horror in very subtle ways, like the unnerving sounds hidden in splat 1 + 2 and octo expansion's whole sanitization thing, but salmon run went ALL OUT and i love it

i had stopped playing splat 3 around the time horrorboros was introduced, but the posts i saw abt it were HORRIFYING, especially it's scream! splatoon could traumatize an 8 yr old child...

salmon run has always been very interesting, from the design taking the "octos use scrap for their tech" concept to a WHOOLE another level never ceases to amaze me how much effort the splatoon team put into that mode... especially with the symbolism you mentioned earlier! salmon run has a very unnerving feel to it, i recall it's lore also had something to do with splatoon's religion themes?? although it has a good chance to be another reference, it is very interesting...

also, my fav salmonid is the maws and the big shot!! i dont know i jus like them... ive killed a lot of maws but i think they are growing on me....

[jonathankatwhatever]

It’s 9 Jan 2025. I think I’ve been using the wrong year so far in 2025. Oops.

I posted this in regards to what would Zeke think about quantum field theory:

“I think Isaac Newton would have loved QFT. I’m thinking in particular of a footnote in Feynman’s QED where he notes that Newton realized that polishing a lens was scratching it more. This was part of Zeke’s long, deeply involved thinking about the nature of light, literally is it a wave or a particle. He would be overjoyed to know that his qualms are enacted in the modern theoretical understanding which enables it to be both. I think the idea that particles are excitations of a field would appeal to the core of his beliefs about the nature of creation, about God and man. To him, that we are made of clay is a Biblical metaphor for the process by which matter exists and becomes something which moves around and which contains a soul. Does our existence generate from the soul or does the soul generate from our existing? QFT largely embodies those questions and it does so in a way entirely consistent with the religious idea that God is in the higher dimensions, that God connects all, and thus moves at a pace beyond our comprehension, making plans beyond our comprehension. And from these higher planes there comes a reduction in energy to us, made out of particles which can’t exist at higher dimensions because we’re stuck here as physical objects in these 3 to 4. To Zeke, the connection to the higher dimensions where he saw God at play, was in the abstract realm of the mind as it worked through to truth.

Another example is alchemy. Makes no sense to us because we know about elements and atomic structure, even if that knowledge is limited to the idea that there are elements and atoms, maybe molecules, of stuff. Pre-that, pre-identification of elements, he was looking into what one thing is and why it is not this other thing. Since lead and gold have many similar characteristics, Zeke’s idea was sensibly to ask if we could isolate what makes the difference. In other words, given he had no model, he picked known pairings between the substances, and tried to construct a process which linked them, one way or the other, maybe in both directions. He was an experimentalist, so he experimented as best he could given the context of the years around 1700. He was born about 2 centuries before electric light. I’m going to repeat the idea: without the knowledge we have of the underlying mechanisms by which those substances were generated, Zeke took what he knew and tried to connect that with a process. The exact same mental process occurred in the mid-20thC when Feynman, Schwinger, Tomonaga, Dyson et al figured out that they could identify 2 knowns and try to connect them with a process, and that eliminated the infinities which occur when you shrink the scale without end. To be clear, they took 2 known points and linked them with calculations, and that’s where Feynman diagrams come in because you figure out each ‘choice’ or move which can occur, and that has a diagram, and thus you calculate through a bleep-ton of those. We know this explicitly because Richard is famous for writing about the process being to fill in what we don’t know with what we can know. Zeke used this same mode of thinking, but he did it by himself about 300 years ago.

As for the math, I think we construct Zeke’s understanding backwards. He wasn’t building up to derivatives as an idea: he was reducing his more inchoate thoughts to the ideas that became calculus. Maybe ordinary math students and mathematicians build understanding bit by bit, theorem by theorem until they can finally grasp Galois theory well enough to calculate problems. But a guy like Zeke had an intuitive understanding. It’s like he had the answer book but the words and images were obscured, and his ability, his job, his sacred mission, was to uncover what was already there as understanding.

Zeke openly talked about this. His religious beliefs were about seeing into the truth. And he actually did write to Robert Hooke, a man of deep intellect, a man he respected, that ‘If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.’ To see further into the mists is to know creation, to know God. That is why Zeke fought so much about credit: he tended as he became old, perhaps altered by his work with chemicals, to become protective of the work he did as the expression of God’s truth. Zeke cared deeply about notation because that notation represented his deeper, or higher dimensional, mathematical thoughts and visions. That was how creation spoke through him, and he over time tended to identify his choices as being more absolute than they were. I prefer to think the best of one of the greatest minds to ever appear on this planet, so I choose to believe he knew, somewhere inside him, that fighting over notation and credit would allow others later to stand more firmly on his shoulders, that this knowledge of who he was would help enable God’s truth to emerge through later thinkers.

Zeke would love the math. He would absolutely love to know what became of what he saw. I think he’d recognize much of it as what he could not render in his lifetime. Imagine making Isaac Newton weep with joy to know that his basic ideas, rendered as best he could, have become this. I’m not sure he’d enjoy group theory that much, but I think he’d be like a calf in clover with set theory. His religious beliefs would draw him to the Continuum Hypothesis for the same reason it drew Cantor: identify the uncountable with God and see if you can connect this countable world, this soul, this person, to the uncountable. He might get lost in large cardinals, and I could see him figuring out the independence of CH because he knew from his work with light that actual stuff can resist categorization or even proper identification.”

As you can see, I’m trying to apply my understanding. And I wrote that so someone can understand it when they understand this. And thus that we know what we are saying has at least a certain ring of truth to it, when ring means understanding.

I’m heading toward something that would have scared me but now I’m going to let out. There are 26 sporadic simple groups because that is 2*13 and 20+6 in SBE counting. SBE counting occurs across all representational forms, whether D-structure or fCM or counting in D3-4Space, meaning within 0Space and actual physical reality and the mathematical forms which link higher dimensional complexity to the Actuality. That sentence should also make clear how the reals and the conception of the reals and the real number line and the real line segment describe Actuality, specifically the Actuality generated as an End within the Composition of all those tangled sheets.

Do you really think about me that much? I can’t even think about me without thinking about you.

So, now that we have Actuality and the reals, including their disappearing act into the mists of uncountability or even of countability, then we have SBE anywhere and everywhere, which means we can apply that to the existence of a class of 1’s which are the sporadic simple groups.

A sidetrack: again, my objection to ideas about the Hilbert hotel is that they invoke uncountability, meaning they invoke the reals, because you can’t say take this infinity and shift it over without associating those infinities. The math is that if you shift rooms 1 over, then that doesn’t make room for more guests at once; it just keeps admitting people to infinite rooms from the front desk end. In order to shift an infinity, you have to encapsulate that infinity. This isn’t a sidetrack, is it? I’m talking about the process space adjacent to the solution, which so restricts the operations as to force chains and thus sets. That forcing must have process. Can I find it? Take a look at the solutions. By the time you reach pairing concepts, you see more process than can be controlled. Is that true at skip every other room? Yes because we’re counting by 1 and 0 so there’s a sorting process we can’t see which fits rooms. What if we make the inputs all the same? Then how do you know they switch rooms? If you identify the objects being moved, you have the process associating them to the rooms. If you identify the rooms, like by prime factorization being unique for each even, then you have the process that sorts objects to the rooms built into the rooms themselves.

In other words, on the surface there’s a manipulation which is actually limited within uncountability. That’s good news because one way that expresses is in the huge groups like the baby monster.

So 13 and 13 make a space startlingly like the one described last night, this time without gendering: an identity of 2SBE2 to a 1 to a 1 to a 2SBE2 identity. This means the 1 and the 1 link at the iObject level to relate identities and to entangle identities. In fact, since the transmission mechanism is through the intangible Object, each time you feel a shared sense or a collective sense, even in passing, like when you’re driving together but separately on a highway, that is an entanglement because it is created in that moment through the iObject of the inclusive Thing.

That material about the Hilbert hotel was difficult. Take pairing. We bring in infinitely many and assign them to every other room. That means 2 prime factors for each even as identification, and gsPrimes means process, so all that gsProcess Attaches to each and every such action. We also speak about infinite guests even though they may come in by the busload: how are they sorted? How does one put them in 1-to-1 without sorting them into that order? Can’t. So can’t.

I need a break. The 20 and the 6 would thus be what we expect SBE2 in the 6 and 2*10. The SBE2 is not easy to get. Let me see. It’s that they identify through these group structures. Like one is double cover of a D28 lattice. J3 is: “The centralizer of an involution (an element of order 2) in J_3 is isomorphic to the direct product 2 \times L_3(4), where L_3(4) is the projective special linear group of 3×3 matrices over the finite field with 4 elements.” These are identity tests. I should go through them to see what each is.

In terms of mathematics, none of this appears to have ever been advanced. These groups are mysteries in riddles.

[kwaggysshardmindemporium]

So I've officially finished the list of albums from 1001 album generator. I had a party with some friends about it. Good time. Played a little game with them to see if they could guess my top ten songs, but y'all just get the answers for free:

10. Sprawl II by Arcade Fire. Love the description of human cities as "mountains beyond mountains."

9. Eid Ma Clack Shaw by Bill Callahan. It's just a beautiful song. Bill says in the song he dreamt the perfect song and he's not far off from telling the truth.

8. Lookin' Our My Backdoor by Credence Clearwarer Revival. Already knew this song before I started listening to these albums. Have a LOT of fond memories of banging this song our in Rock Band with one of my best friends while we were still roommates. He moved halfway across the country a little while back, so now this song consistently makes me tear up a little (positive).

7. I Had Too Much To Dream (Last Night) by The Electric Prunes. This is a weirdly intense song for the era it was in. It has a similar level of dread in my opinion to like, Poe's The Raven.

6. Gravity's Rainbow by Klaxons. Probably the catchiest song on here. Come with me! Come with me! We'll travel to infinity!

5. Come Alive (War of the Roses) by Janele Monáe. My favorite track of an absolutely stand out album. It just hits like a freight train right from the start and only gets bigger and louder.

4. The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn by The Pogues. I don't connect with the Irish roots I have on one side much, but man this song makes me wish I did.

3. Eleanor Rigby by The Beatles. This is the best Beatles song. It's not close. Therefore it's one of the best songs in history. If you disagree about this being the best Beatles song, your opinion is wrong. Don't @ me.

2. Whatshername by Green Day. Another one that already meant a lot to me before starting this journey. So, from when I was a little kid to about 13 or so, I listened to almost exclusively contemporary country music with some folk and classic rock. The shit my dad likes, and I do still have some fondness for. American Idiot was the first rock album I got like, REALLY into. And subsequently, me and some friends got way into all things Green Day. And also, importantly for this song in particular, it was a major point of bonding between me and a girl I was into in high school. I am exactly one step away from this song being tailor made to emotionally devastate me in particular every time I hear it. That step is forgetting the girl's name.

1. Master of Puppets Live with the SFSO by Metallic and the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. I'm not a diehard Metallica guy. I only ever really listened to it with a different high school buddy and my taste in their stuff is the popular stuff that the true Metallica heads will tell you is their sellout shit. I'm also not a live albums guy because they're usually worse-sounding versions of the band's best songs. But S&M is an absolutely *electrifying* album. I was not emotionally prepared for this album, and especially not this song. Something about the orchestra and the crowd doing half the lyrics just... works. It hits so different, and hit me right in my fuckin bones. This album makes me wish so very fervently that I had a time machine, just so I could see this concert in person. Good lord I would do some dark shit for a chance to see this concert. Like, I understand why I like my #2 as much as I do. I can name the emotions that make it resonate so much. I don't have words to quantify the feelings this song puts into my heart. I really don't. And no shit it's #1 because of that. What the hell else was it gonna be?

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

GUARDIANS 3 Opening Ain't a Disappointment

Some seem to be writing it off as a disappointment, but I'd say it's pretty cool that the third GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY movie opened with around $118m this past weekend.

That's a sentence no one would've imagined being a reality back in, say, 2004... Or even 2014, when the first was on its way to theaters.

"A third GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY movie made over $100m on its opening weekend".

The first GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY movie opened with $94m back in August of 2014, which was an astounding number for this kind of movie back then: Based on characters few outside of the comic-sphere have heard of, and for a movie that was more a space opera with weird funny creatures in it as opposed to the more grounded superheroes like Iron Man and Captain America. This time we had snarky raccoons and talking trees... How was THIS thing going to do?

Before GUARDIANS came out, the MCU kind of slowly held our hands when it came to introducing the world above Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, and Natasha Romanoff... THOR had the Asgard/Nine Realms/fantasy stuff, THE AVENGERS had some rather generic alien invaders, and THOR: THE DARK WORLD mostly played it safe with the space/cosmic stuff... Until its mid-credits scene featuring The Collector. A brief scene which was directed by GUARDIANS trilogy director James Gunn. A very brief taste of what was to come regarding the cosmic side of the MCU... And Gunn's wacky FARSCAPE/FUTURAMA-esque space adventure movie truly blew it all open. THOR, THE AVENGERS, and THOR 2 walked so it could run, you could say...

And yet, these guys and the world they inhabited were completely new. Only The Collector and his slave Carina appeared in THE DARK WORLD, which had opened with $85m domestically. The Marvel brand, post-AVENGERS, absolutely had to have helped this movie, because this kind of space saga isn't always an easy sell if you aren't STAR WARS... And even STAR WARS was largely doubted before it was unleashed unto the world. GUARDIANS would go on to score a great 3.5x multiplier and went on to make a lot of money for what it was. It managed to outgross CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER and THOR: THE DARK WORLD, even.

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY was more than a homework movie, it was more than a picture you had to watch to keep track of what was going to happen in the next AVENGERS movie...

It's interesting to me because GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY largely revolves around one of the Infinity Stones, and Thanos is present in the movie, but the immense heart of the storyline and Peter Quill's whole deal, these weirdos with rough pasts and dodgy backgrounds all coming together... It made for something special, and that beating heart of the story shined beyond the few MCU trappings, namely its big explosive third act set-piece and the stuff that hinted at the future.

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VOL. 2 was even more stand-alone, so self-contained that it could exist - almost plausibly - outside the MCU. It even takes place a little after the first movie, which was set in 2014, the year of its release... And this movie came out in 2017. It wasn't concerned with what was happening on the ground or elsewhere. It didn't have any major cameos, not that I can remember anyways. I don't even think Ego's seed terraforming on Earth during the final battle was even referenced by future Marvel movies or at least the ones set after it (like CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR). The movie opened with $146m, an astounding total. Then it made a decent 2.6x its opening, probably because it was more frontloaded this time, and the movie was a little more ambitious than the first one. Some elements in it were a dealbreaker for some people, including quite a few critics. The same is being said about VOL. 3 as well.

(For the record, I love all three of these movies, VOL. 3 might just be my personal favorite of the bunch... I have to sit with it for a few...)

Then the Guardians themselves made appearances elsewhere, namely in AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR and AVENGERS: ENDGAME. The plots of those movies absolutely inform some of the characters' arcs and story elements going forward, largely concerning Peter Quill and a Gamora who never met him. Otherwise, GUARDIANS VOL. 3 manages to be self-contained once more.

I see it this way. The first one surprised and did very well, the second one was the peak of the series at the box office, and the third one comes down a bit...

It's happened before. SHREK, SHREK 2, and SHREK THE THIRD have the same trajectory. As do the DESPICABLE ME movies not counting the MINIONS spin-offs. PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN is another example off the top of my head.

We're at a point now, I think, where a lot of people are stepping off of the MCU train post-AVENGERS. They'll show up for certain movies that appeal to them, such as SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME, BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER, and this picture, but that's it. I expect VOL. 3's multiplier to be closer to those than to ANT-MAN AND THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA's abysmal 2.0x multiplier. I feel the same has been happening with DC movies, too. Look at how SHAZAM! FURY OF THE GODS just did, or how BLACK ADAM kinda came up short.

Here's some mutlipliers that I think kind of speak volumes...

SHANG-CHI - 2.9x

ETERNALS - 2.3x

SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME - 3.1x

MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS - 2.1x

THOR: LOVE AND THUNDER - 2.3x

BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER - 2.5x

QUANTUMANIA - 2.0x

It shows me that these movies are a lot more frontloaded now than ever before by the diehard fans, and that general audiences are kind of directing their attention elsewhere. It's natural, really, for the MCU is now a 15-year-old franchise, the first IRON MAN movie having debuted in May of 2008. That it's still pulling in these kinds of monster grosses and opening weekends is kind of astounding. Even QUANTUMANIA posted a trilogy high for ANT-MAN, with an $106m opening. An MCU movie hasn't missed that threshold since ETERNALS, unsurprisingly a movie that introduced a ton of new characters and a new side of the MCU hitherto unseen.

I predict GUARDIANS VOL. 3 will have okay legs, as it does have an A CinemaScore grade. Probably about on par with how VOL. 2 held up after its opening weekend. Should either just reach $300m domestically, or barely miss it. It's doing pretty good worldwide, so I think it's safe to say that this is one audiences will stick around for. I see it making a profit, unlike QUANTUMANIA. The GUARDIANS movies are unique like this, in that they're not homework movies or ones you have to watch in order to keep up with the wider universe. You can follow these characters through all three of their movies, and you only watch two other movies to get the rest of their story. (Their cameo in THOR: LOVE AND THUNDER has next to no bearing on this film.)

I think it really shows just how much audiences love those characters, and not what they mean to the MCU as a whole. Gunn and his crew really scored there...

Now, when THE MARVELS opens in November, and CAPTAIN AMERICA: NEW WORLD ORDER next spring, I suppose we'll get a better idea of the MCU's trajectory going forward and what it might splinter into...