#okay maybe I need to rewrite this

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

tags: merman! gojo x human f!reader, sadness, angst, people growing, signs of aging, topics of death, satoru calling reader his ‘star’ and reader referring to him as ‘moon’, reader has a house by the coast that was her grandmother’s, sad Satoru, I hc’d that in this au mermen can visit every seven years but due to Satoru’s cold features he can visit every year. readers daughter is named kairi (meaning: majestic sea, or song/melody in other cultures).

a/n: guys I don’t like this 😕

You tried to tell your daughter that true love exists. even if the marriage with her father no longer worked out, you swore to gift it through stories, paintings, and artifacts; all related to that white haired individual. the ‘man’ you’ve known for years.

“Every seven years, mermaids return to this coast,” you remember telling your child, now 7, “but some return sooner than most.”

You hold the small bundle of joy between your arms, a white blanket wrapped around her body with embroided seashells along the edges. “she’s three months old, Satoru.”

“she’s so small,” he marvels, in awe as his brows furrow. “they’re that small?”

“they’re smaller before they’re born,” you smile. “but they’re adorable nontheless.” at your side, your acquaintance slightly sighs, turning to you.

“you think ours would’ve looked like that?” there’s a small pang to your heart, feeling as if you’ve betrayed him.

“Satoru,”

“I wasn’t...” he exhales then turns to the sea, “you know what I mean, star.” your heart aches at the name, a bittersweet name he gifted you early on in your relationship.

“are you gonna...?”

“she’ll know about you, some bits when she’s young. But once she’s older... I’ll leave her to decide. I’ll write it all down for her.” at your words, Satoru lets a moment pass, hesitantly bringing up an item in his hands.

“I brought you something,” he says, “I didn’t know... even if it was the last time I’d see you,” there’s almost a pained expression to his voice, eyes avoiding yours as he looks down at your daughter. then, to the ring on your left.

“can I give it to her?” there’s a slow nod.

“of course. she’s a piece of you.”

He returns again when she’s three, awestruck at her growth. you let him carry her, of course you trust him with your life. he treats her with the upmost care as he swims, having her sit on the plain of his back. your daughter giggles. this time, he gifts her a shell shaped like a whistle that actually makes a noise while he gifts you a pair of pearlescent earrings.

On your daughter’s 7th birthday, you notice a scar upon his cheekbone. while your daughter plays along the shore, you turn to cup his cheek. An act of affection you’ve long missed. “you’re still the same as ever,” you whisper, not paying mind to his scar though he makes it well aware how much he hates it.

“you shouldn’t be touching another man,” he almost bitterly reminds you, “you have a husband. I don’t think he’d like you touching someone else.”

“ex-husband,” you correct softly, embarrassment in your cheeks. “we didn’t work out.” there’s a sadness and glimmer to his eyes as he turns to your daughter, watching and overlook so as she won’t slip from a nearby rock. the waves today are calmer than most days.

Your daughter stops visiting him after that. You don’t really know how it happens; if she either grew up too soon or she lost interest, but you write. you paint. for him or her, you mask it as a personal hobby (which it was), you suddenly feel the need to prove something.

Years pass and you’ve grown a few wrinkles along your eyes. body not quite as before, worried he might miss today.

you see satoru’s white head from the distance. It takes him far longer to approach you. you think he might consider you a stranger until he’s close enough for you to call, “moon!” a love name you’ve blessed him by; in honor of the pale skin of his features.

“you’ve grown,” there’s a slight sadness behind his eyes and voice, knowing well that this means another era for you. a reminder that you’re not forever, “but you’re still as beautiful as ever. come here, star.” his arms feel like home. they always have. you’d like to think this is what heaven should be like. the soft, tender kiss against your lips reminds you that maybe there is something to look forward to.

a few years later, you return. a headscarf adorning your top, loose clothing around your figure as this time, you lay low by the rocks. It’s too difficult to climb.

“the doctors think I’ll be okay,” you smile, bony hand clasped with his muscular one. you can tell he’s holding back a sob as he glances at every feature life has thrown at you, as subtle as he tries you can still feel it.

“you’re dying.” he points.

“I still have time,”

“but not enough.” a silence passes between the both of you. you tell him of your daughter.

“I told kairi about you.” you tell him, “I wrote everything down so she’ll know.”

“I don’t think she ever wants to see me.”

“Of course she does,” you gently squeeze his hand, “just give her time, she’s...” you struggle with your words, “grieving.”

“I can’t loose you,” his voice breaks, and you’re afraid to meet his eyes. “I’ve barely had you, it’s not fair.”

“Satoru,” your voice cracks, but remains soft, “I’ve been lucky to have known you...”

“No,” he grits his teeth, “don’t speak in past terms. you’re not dead, star.”

“I promise this won’t be the last time you see me.” you squeeze his hand with what strength you have left, “I’ve moved here, to the house by the coast.” you speak, “I’ll see you everyday if I have to, I won’t go, Satoru.” it takes a lot of reassurance that night for Satoru to be at peace, even though there is no complete peace in knowing the love of your life is dying and you can’t do anything about it, he’s with you every minute he can take. Satoru stays for months, expanding his visit along the waters as it’s nearing winter.

“You should go,” you tell him, “you’ll die if you stay in these cold waters. I’ll be fine.”

There is such reluctance in that conversation from him. His eyes and body betray him, unable to leave you. “No,”

“Satoru, you’ll die.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

“I won’t,” you tell him, “I’ve made it past the time doctors said I’d...” you nod, “I’ll be fine Satoru. It’s just 4 months. I’ll actually die if you don’t go though. Please, go. For your own health.” There’s hurt and hesitance in his eyes, longing and self betrayal in the way he kisses you, though he’s so in love with you by the way he holds you and whispers sweet nothings to your ear. the last thing he does is press a kiss to your forehead before he turns, leaving.

It rains for the first time in 20 years on the beach 26 days later. your daughter sobs that day, looking ahead from the hospital view as she stares out into the ocean.

she doesn’t have the guts to see him (satoru) that year. not daring to step a foot in the sand for a whole entire year. she reads your journals a few months after your death, learning of a man that saved you from another, saving your life. he’s become your rock, she can read. and you write about him in ways that you’ve never expressed about her father. it is then that she realizes that you loved him, or he loved you. likely both sides loved, but she still doesn’t visit the sea.

it is only when she turns 21 that she decides to finally meet the man again. fresh out of a heartbreak, she realizes how excruciatingly painful it is to lose someone you love, reflecting and opting that it is only fair she gives you the news. but she decides to do more.

Satoru recognizes her almost instantly, she looks so much like you in your youth. kairi is almost afraid, holding on to the bag tightly over her shoulder.

She didn’t think her soul could break ever the more when she tells him the news. In front of her, she sees a man who truly loved. who if given the chance to be human, would’ve kissed the ground you walked on, loved you more than her own father. her heart breaks, seeing how someone who held so much love for you had, resulting in the greatest tragedy she’s seen in her 21 years of life.

“She wanted me to give you this,” it’s a waterproof heart necklace with a picture of you on one side and the other is a picture the both of you took. Satoru holds the necklace as if it’s made of glass.

for the remainder of the day, she talks to you as if you would have wanted. showing him a photo album of your life, reflecting on her best memories of you. it is only then when Satoru cries when you pull up a video of you on your birthday.

your daughter learns that Satoru loves videos.

“I remember when you were barely born, you were this small.” he makes a motion with his hands, “you were... so beautiful, your mother loved you.” there’s a sense of sadness yet pride to his words.

“I know she loved you too,” kairi speaks, moments later as she wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “she always told me about you when I was little. always pained this beach, even you at times.” your daughter chuckles, “sometimes, even when I was little, I wondered what it’d be like to have you as my dad. the both of you really loved one another. more than my dad.”

and there, there is a piece inside your daughters heart and Satoru’s that slightly mends. the two of them bond their love over you, keeping your memory alive as they meet every year to remember you. both souls uniting, thinking of a life where things would have been possible.

[bumblevoid]

a wild mags!

yes hi this is my design for mags. specifically for my au

for sparkbird's circle maker contest! i don't think that's on tumblr at all but im proud of this piece which is rare

w/o the lyric version:

tried a lot of new things on this! i can remember exactly one other time ive actually drawn a face in 3/4 view and it was awful (but also middle school art class sO). also new style of digital shading,, usually only throw an actual noticeable light source drawing traditionally and not characters for some reason?? idk

[gingerpeachtea]

🦀🧳🦀

YAY AIRPORT CRABS have 10 sentences from burning suns!!!

She fixed her hair while he worked, a feeble excuse not to look at him, though she also wouldn’t want him seeing her like this regardless. Sweat stuck wisps of hair to her forehead. She should’ve long since caught her breath, and her heart had calmed, but not entirely—a state that should be reserved for the company of aching thighs and pillow talk, not a poor stage performance. He placed her shoes neatly beneath her vanity, where she always kept them. Christian wrapped a loose hand around her ankle, his thumb slipping beneath the crosses of her fishnets to rub small circles over the bone. She looked down at him, still knelt before her. Her eyes fell to his hand [before he could/before he had the chance to meet her gaze]. “What is it?” she asked. She knew the answer. For all the ways he’d changed, Christian still hadn’t lost his boyish avoidance of directness. She considered some kind of physical comfort, perhaps a hand on his shoulder or cupping his cheek, but didn’t move.

(make me write!!)

[watchyourdigits]

I am re-reading Night Letter and am realizing I didn't do nearly enough research into scar tissue as I should have 💀 I spent hours researching lavender marriages and U.S. Army dog tags from the 1950s (as well as ranks and dismissals and such) instead of researching one of the defining characteristics of the main character, aka his severe facial scarring.

Anyway here I am retconning his scars - they are hypertrophic NOT keloid. That is entirely on me because I didn't know what the fuck the term was for it and assumed that if they were raised then they HAD to be keloids. I'm so sorry for this. Like deeply.

For those who don't know the difference, I don't recommend looking up pics unless you're okay with seeing mild medical g*re. Brief description of the aforementioned scar types:

Keloid: raised, shiny, firm & rubbery in texture with no distinct pattern. Caused by an excess of collagen deposits during the healing process. These scars invasively extend PAST the area of the original wound and do not regress over time. Hard to treat. Can form over months to years after an injury. More common in black folks and other melanated people who have a family history of keloid scarring.

Hypertrophic: raised, but not to the degree of keloids, and can also be different colors and usually have a distinct wavy pattern due to collagen deposits. Also caused by an excess of collagen, but not to the extent of keloids. These scars do NOT extend past the area of the original wound, typically do not recur, and CAN regress over time. Typically appear within a month of two of an injury and do not continue to progress (typically begin to regress actually).

I'm attaching an image below the cut comparing the two.

Left is keloid, right is hypertrophic. You'll see the difference. It's easy to confuse them because they're similar in depiction, but this is a good visual example of exactly HOW they are different. Raised scars =/= keloids!!! Do NOT be a fool like me!!!!

[catastrxblues]

hi so i just finished bridge to terabithia and now i’m unwell and my eyes are red because i’ve been crying before i’d even reached 20 minutes of it for i actually knew what was going to happen and by the time i reached an hour something something i just straight up sobbing screaming into my pillow. and now it’s 12 am and i’m still thinking about them. because god, look at them, how they were, the little world they lived in, wouldn’t you just love that, to run away, to escape, to grasp that childhood naivety and innocence that you lost a long time ago, to feel the sun in your skin and the air in your lungs and to paint fantasies and laugh and play and run hidden away from the world and find an old run down tree house and decided to make it your own little shelter and pin up canvases on the worn wood and paint and let your creativity goes wild and have someone understand you and gets you and do it with you, and wouldn’t you just love to have something so constant, so sincere, so genuine, so pure, so real, that there wasn’t anything else. if i knew i was going to cry this much, if i knew how much space this movie would make in my life, i wouldn’t have started this movie tonight. i would have been in peace on the floor of my room, not realizing how badly i actually want something like this even though i would never unironically admit this to anyone in my life or even myself when i’m outside of the familiar place of my mind, for that matters

[thedragonagelesbian]

I DONT REMEMBER THESE LINES BEING CLASS SPECIFIC IM SCREAMING...

[crybaby-bkg]

writing the most beautiful thing ever about grief but it’s in a smut fic with polygamy :////

[martianbugsbunny]

Idk if I'm strong enough for either canon Kalluzeb or Kalluzeb getting destroyed

[foehnwind]

❝ Was I staring? ❞ He rubs the nape of his neck sheepishly, the fuzzy tips of his ears twitching slightly under her notice. The embarrassment appears to be only small, not enough to hinder how easily he grins. Noel is nothing if not good-humored, his demeanor like the most mellow of breezes. ❝ On second thought, it seems I was. Sorry. ❞ The hand behind his neck drifts forward, taking the shape of a casual point as he gestures to not to her, but the creature in her company. ❝ Your companion caught my eye. I was reminded of a friend of mine—he had two of them, a lot like yours. ❞ @nohrsrose — hi, has anyone told u that ur dragon is rly cool?

[2truehearts]

.

[asterdeer]

i feel like a loading bar that's very slowly ticking up until i actually believe my therapist's belief that i have ocd

[lady-grace-pens]

Okay I may or may not be gathering ideas for a rewrite of htkag already

[aparticularbandit]

...i was going to have that one memory be the last one in oafc, but maybe.

maybe it's the last one in the entire series.

....

yeah, okay, that fits, that's doable.

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

[derrypubliclibrary]

writing will have you looking up the average snowfall in indiana & then not even using the information,,,

[clockwayswrites]

5 Times the JL Learned Batman was Married and the 1 Time They Met the Spouse.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four.

Clark stood up and positioned himself between the door and his injured teammate before it even opened, though not much before. His own delayed reaction made sense when it opened to show one of Batman’s teammates. While for the longest the League had thought Batman ‘worked alone’, they were now aware of there being a variety of heroes in Gotham, even if they were far from sure how many there might be or who those heroes were.

Nightingale was a notable exception what with his influence on the newest generation of heroes.

The young man flashed Clark a cheery smile and a little two finger wave. The motion almost distracting with the bright blue that marked the fingers.

“Hey Supes, I got notified that B was laid up.”

Clark paused. “You did?”

“Yep, I’m down as B’s emergency contact for Justice League matters. Feel free to confirm it if you want,” Nightingale said and leaned against the door frame with an easy shrug. “That’s exactly the sort of paranoia that B would approve of.”

It really was was, Clark thought. He grabbed the tablet that he had been using and pulled up Batman’s personnel file. It was a sparse file, of course, but clear as day Nightingale listed was next to ‘emergency contact’. Under his name as an alternative was ‘Condor’.

“Who’s Condor?”

“Me,” rumbled the man who stepped up behind Nightingale. He wasn’t as tall as the other hero, but he was broad. His lower face was covered in some sort of sleek gas mask, though Clark’s focus was pulled to the red lenses of the domino mask.

He certainly made for an intimidating figure.

Nightingale rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

Condor just shrugged. “I’m here to be the muscle.”

Clark’s brow furrowed. “For… what?”

“Oh, we’re taking B home!” Nightingale, well, chirped and pushed himself off the doorway.

Clark stepped in the way. “Batman needs to stay under medical supervision.”

“We know. We’re taking him to the Batcave. There’s a full medical set up there and we already have Batman’s personal doctor on hand to look him over,” Nightingale said as he smoothly edged his way around Clark. “Not that we don’t think you all have done your best! Just that way we’ll have his status for our files and he can recover at home.”

“Besides, you don’t want you-know-who to get wind that B is laid up like this and come storming the castle,” Condor said and came to take the other end of the medical bed.

Nightingale gave an over-the-top shudder. “Yeah, best to avoid that, he’s not having a good week already.”

“I, no, I don’t know who,” Clark said with a frown, though he did finally step out of their way. He couldn’t really tell them no, they did have control over Batman’s care. Still, he carefully watched them undo the clasps that would let them take off the top of the bed like a stretcher.

Condor lifted his end of the bed. “B’s husband, of course. Guy’s a little protective.”

“A little?” Nightingale asked as he pivoted with his end of the bed so they could start walking. “Calling him ‘a little’ protective is like calling what happened on Monday a ‘little’ multidimensional incident.”

Condor shrugged, the bed shifting a little with the motion, though it barely rocked Batman. “Okay, so maybe he’d rewrite the world for B if it came to it. That’s exactly why we’re getting B back to the Cave where he can be safe and settled before his paramour gets back from dealing with that ‘little’ multidimensional incident.”

“Right,” agreed Nightingale. “Thanks for looking after him, Supes!”

“You’re welcome?” Clark replied as the two heroes left the room, Batman carried between them.