#sheer perfection CAN in fact be achieved

[emiarainewrites]

MY (scream) DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE!!!!!!

Queen Barbara got Jeffrey Combs for Scream Dream Pod

[balteus]

actually re: fromsoftware politics. i do think it's very interesting that the anti-colonialist RLF, ostensibly considered the 'good guys' of the game, were initially explicitly called the communist faction. armored core always has been a series critical of oligarchies and hyper-capitalism, but it's... very interesting to see just how blatant that is in ac6 specifically

you'd think that fromsoftware would eventually drop the ball on the "the ruling class will kill you and cannibalise itself in order to stay alive" considering that they're considered elite AAA devs rn, but thinking about elden ring and ac6's narratives, they've really only gotten more obvious about it - the horrors of colonialism and genocide and the sympathy given to the rage of its victims is something that's actually insane to see, to me, from such a big studio - fromsoft doesn't even attempt to be centrist about it.

for example, the frenzy flame ending. the only thing melina can tell you to dissuade you from pursuing it, ie literally destroying the world forever, is that there's still beauty in the world, apart from the suffering the golden order had caused. at no point however is the sheer despair of the people that the flame represents villanized. if anything, it's portrayed as a self-fulfilling prophecy, it is a tragedy. the only villain is the order who slaughtered all of these people, the flame of despair is something that emerged in them as they were buried alive. and the flame isn't even intended as a revenge upon the world, it's simply a means to end the pain they feel for being subjected to this.

their grief isn't something for the player to judge, it isn't something they're forced to overcome, it's simply a physical manifestation of the reality that was forced upon them. and these people, the merchants, are still kind to us, even knowing the order that we pursue. (in fact, the true, considered best ending of elden ring, is literally just sacrificing yourself in order to achieve complete anarchism. and getting a cool wife to endure the loneliness of space along the way)

in ac6 then, ayre is so terribly forgiving towards us, knowing what we are, knowing what made us, knowing what we participate in. some of this undoubtedly is because of her narrative role, she has to be a sympathetic character. but we do get to see her rage at the end, her grief for her species being seen as nothing more than a resource to be exploited or burned fully vocalized. but the RLF is sympathetic too as resistance fighters who want their home back. the only criticism the game ever leverages towards the RLF is that they're actually not radical enough in their pursuit of freedom, and that criticism is made by a villain.

it's so... i almost want to say optimistic? other games would have tried to pull a "ooh but what if the good guys did bad things (poor attempt at moral grayness)" but no, the RLF is justified at every step of the way. idk it makes me feel things. i dont particularly want to portray fromsoftware as these bastions of political correctness or sth - they're not perfect and i don't expect that ever lmao, but it's so fucking weird that their games are this progressive and have been for a long ass time.

[scarybabe]

God the fact that every time you post it looks like someone morphed your belly to be even bigger is never not going to be amazing to me. The sheer amount of weight you've gained that has went to bulging out that gut, widening them thunder thighs, fattened up all your chins, and gave you such a perfect jiggly bubbler butt i couldn't imagine what you'd look like or how much sexier you'd be if you were bigger or pregnant. In my opinion you are the face and body of what feedees should be, a true feedee goddess

this is so fucking HOT 🥵

feel free to compare - I was biggest when I hit 300, idk what I weigh now but my belly, butt and boobs seem to have decreased the least compared to my peripheral weight (face, arms, legs) lol.

i can think of other creators who are far more exemplary than me 😅 but I stuck to my gains for over 3.5 years without any breaks and achieved all the goals I made for myself so i feel proud of that and satisfied 🥰.

eventually i may just identify as a stuffer again because i am not actively gaining anymore, I guess it depends on whether you recognize feedism as a fetish that describes your turn ons/desires with or without substantial weight gain. i know whenever I do my BBL next year i will try to gain a bit while i am healing to fluff it out and get the best results 💕 my ass is already perfect but it can always be fatter 😋 if pregnancy made me gain weight that would be hot too! I think getting stronger will help me maximize the time frame i can make pregnant content because I’ll have more energy to work.

[cheqorb]

Destined for Each Other.

Being the ever productive human you are, you download a cringey love calculator app for fun.

FEAT. Blue Lock ensemble

NOTES. wEorst feeling is when you want to write but can’t be bothered to, this has been sitting in my drafts for a HOT minute. small drabble before i die of heatstroke, enjoy

You’re lounging on your couch, aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you stumble upon the greatest app you’ve ever seen. Like, this must’ve been the reason why the internet was created. Your entire life was for this one thing. The name alone, Love-o-meter 2000, sounds like it was invented by a 13 year old writing fanfiction for the first time.

But hey, you’re bored and there’s something about the heart emojis, pink sparkles and the promise of ‘definitive proof of true love’ that speaks to you on a personal level. Maybe this is why people think you’re an easy target for scammers.

You download it — disregarding basic internet safety 101 of not downloading shit from suspicious websites — and the app’s interface is exactly what you’d expect: glittery, over the top with a soundtrack of what can only be described as weirdly romantic elevator music. Okay, so, enter your and your darling’s name and the Love-o-meter will calculate your love score (and possibly decide the fate of your relationship).

Pure, unadulterated pseudoscience.

It’s perfect, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and it’s definitely not bordering on insanity.

You send a quick text to your beloved partner who’s literally just in the other room informing them of your very smart decision. The message is ambiguous, designed to intrigue or confuse them as the evil mastermind you are. “Going to a fortune teller to see if we’re destined to be together. Let you know how it goes xx.”

────

Rolling their eyes and sighing like the single mothers they are. Just what the hell have you got planned this time? They’ve been a victim of your schemes for the past few (what feels like) decades you’ve been together and are skeptical any time you message them out of the blue. Do they really want to know? Absolutely not and they refuse to engage in whatever witchcraft you’re trying to achieve.

Option one, they leave you on read.

Option two, they send a text with "Whatever you say, babe" for their own safety.

Rin, Sae, Post WC! Kunigami, Kaiser

Chigiri, Barou, Karasu, Raichi

────

Confusion flickers across their face as they stare at the text for a minute. They debate on sending a message asking what you even mean by that, but delete it at the last second. Is it worth the risk? No. So they opt for the safe, more loving response because they adore you enough to deal with all this. Ignoring the fact that you’re both at home, they text back, "Oh okay, you have fun with that. Love you :)"

Be careful with some of these people though; if their overthinking habits kick in, they’ll start to panic over if you’re (hypothetically) unhappy with the relationship.

Isagi, Pre-WC! Kunigami, Hiori, Nanase, Kurona, Niko

Reo, Ness, Tokimitsu

────

Immediately curious when they see the message and out of excitement, rush over to the room you’re in. They plop themselves down beside you, squishing their body against yours whilst peering over your shoulder to look at your phone. You can’t just say something like that and expect them not to want in on it! The pair of you are like kids at a sleepover for the first time with no adult supervision.

"If it doesn’t show up with 100%, this app is a scam and we refuse to listen to its lies, okay?" they add on, because as much as believing in this type of nonsense is fun; they don’t really feel like losing their partner today.

Bachira, Shidou, Aryu, Lorenzo, Charles

────

At a loss on what to do and (whether out of general inexperience with these types of things or sheer laziness) send a lacklustre "k" before putting their phone down to finish something else. Well, if it predicts something really awful, then they’ll…figure it out when the time comes. With you helping, of course.

Nagi, Gagamaru, Otoya

────

You type in your name first then pause to think (unheard of). Do you use their full name or some obscure nickname you gave them that one night which somehow stuck? Like, would it mess up the results? If you’re truly meant for each other, it shouldn’t matter. “Eh, better play it safe. Full name it is.”

You hit the heart-shaped submit button and wait eagerly. The screen flashes and you got…

Almost dropping your phone, you audibly gasp as you stare at the percentage. Four percent?! Okay, you might disagree with each other on some things but certainly not so much to be described as ‘Completely Incompatible’!

Obviously, you’re flabbergasted and the stupid thing has the audacity to play sad trombone music as you read through the description.

“You should think over this relationship a bit more. Maybe you didn’t notice the signs that were there through your rose-coloured glasses, but don’t give up on love entirely, there are plenty of fish in the sea!”

You have to stop yourself from shedding a tear and how on earth could you confess this to your beloved? They may not have taken you seriously the first time but suddenly texting them (or saying), “Yeah, this isn’t going to work between us </3 I’m sorry…” is sure to give them a scare. Cue them immediately responding and asking questions. Do you not love them anymore? Is it something they did?

…did you seriously go to a fortune teller?

Feeling kinda guilty for worrying them, you then send them a screenshot of the result/show them on your phone in person.

────

More annoyed at you if anything, don’t scare them like that again. Especially not over a result of a game, and they tell you as much. Some of them are actually a little bitter over it though, because, who does this app think it is? You are soulmates and even if you’re annoying sometimes (most of the time), you’re still theirs.

Post WC! Kunigami, Barou, Raichi, Rin, Sae, Karasu, Kaiser

────

Laugh it off but secretly thanking whatever gods blessed them because those few minutes of silence, just blankly looking at your text message were possibly the worst minutes they’ve ever been through. Genuinely had to get up and go to you in person to see if this was another one of your jokes or if you were being serious — with you, it’s hard to tell.

Isagi, Reo, Hiori, Nanase, Kurona, Niko, Lorenzo, Otoya

────

Cry, chuck their phone to the floor, and basically slam the door open to see you. Tears are streaming down their face before they even say a word. You’re not leaving right? Don’t you love them? Please don’t end everything here…Oh it’s just an app?

Still, they’re not forgiving you (lie) for that stunt unless you reassure them that you love them and would never leave them.

Ness, Tokimitsu

────

Gasp, out of shock more than anything. Most of them are the ones who came to you in the beginning — meaning they know exactly what you were doing — but it doesn’t matter to them. Disregarding what they said before, they take full offence to the result. They’re already prepared to leave 156 bad reviews on it just for this act of treason. Or they just get pouty for a bit until you comfort them.

Bachira, Shidou, Aryu, Charles

────

Didn’t get what you were trying to do to begin with, and maybe still don’t, but they’re glad you’re not actually breaking up with them! It’s barely noticeable unless you watch them like a hawk, but they make the effort to spend more time with you afterwards. They’re not too sure why themselves, thinking it just feels right.

Nagi, Gagamaru

[monabee-draws]

There are too many things to say about Act 3 but one truth is that Episode 7 is the best episode in the season. And I mean in terms of a complete, narrative arc in one episode. There are plenty of absolutely perfect scenes and moments in other episodes (Isha's scene in ep 6, Jayce and Viktor's final reconcilliation) but wow was 7 the best written episode overall.

The Ekko/Heimer plot:

- Explores the beauty of a world entirely uncorrupted by the Hextech dream because this Powder chose to close the power away in a drawer.

- We watch Heimerdinger see the fruit of what his work might have done if he didn't dig his head in the sand for decades. It is blissful inaction and lack of compassion that kills. It is the maintenance of the status quo by those who benefit from it that kills. It is the entire false dream of Piltover that kills. And it can be changed, but only if those in power recognise their own hubris.

- Heimerdinger's death foreshadow's Jayce and Viktor's as well. He chooses to 'evaporate' into the Arcane so that the younger generation can try again, and make up for his mistakes. His brand of scientific omniscia did not work, and neither will jayvik's.

- The sister's tragedy persists in every universe. Vi and Jinx never get to be together no matter how perfect things could have gone. Vander warns our Vi that the kids will always follow her lead, and its on her head if things go wrong. Their Vi paid that price for them. She saved Mylo, Claggor, Vander and Powder. But there will always be a loss somewhere. There is no perfect world.

- Powder/Jinx was never going to be happy staying in Zaun and always needed to be free beyond other people's wants for her/their protectiveness/the cycle of violence. This foreshadows her imagined conversation with Silco and her flight at the end of episode 9 (she's alive I'm sorry.)

- Ekko learns to reconcile his vision of freedom with the imperfect nature of his own world (a very necessary lesson for a time traveler), a realisation that also foreshadow's future Viktor's realisation that perfection isn't good actually.

-> overall, this half teaches us Jayce's lesson about the importance and beauty of imperfection, of freedom of will, and going beyond the will of others. It's a perfect microcosm of the story as a whole, and expertly sets up every other character's choices in the end. Not to mention the literal time travel device ends up saving the world. That small imperfection - "That device cannot be" - is what sets everyone free.

For Jayce's story:

- Se see that Viktor's beautiful commune was always a lie, and all of the people he 'healed' were already dead at his hands. Hextech was never going to save anybody. The dream was tainted from the beginning.

- Jayce's resillience and agency grow and recover beyond what we see of him in season 1. He takes real accountability for his actions for the first time. The sheer spread of the consequences contradicts Jayce's insistence that they thought of every countermeasure. This entire sequence destabilises his (and Viktor's) images as gifted scientists whose intellect is equivalent to omniscience. They too are blinded by the same folly of Piltover's elite - their superiority is finally and thoroughly challenged in an indisputable way.

- His injury and leg brace level him with Viktor in a way that is crucial visual language for their later reconcilliation and Jayce's speech about accepting flaws in the finale. The fact that it is his Hextech hammer that breaks his leg is even more important - more evidence of the corruption of their dream, and of violence not being the correct solution.

- The scope of the dead world needed to be explored for us to understand how bad of an apocalypse we risk facing such that Zaun and Piltover cooperating could even be conceivable despite Caitlyn and Ambessa's fascist campaigns tearing the cities apart. The audience needs to have that disbelief suspended, and those scenes achieve that. In-story the cooperation between cities is still unbelievable, but this episode succeeds at making it understandable from a meta-perspective. We know what lies beneath the mask.

-> Overall, this half reinforces the themes of glorious imperfection, but also helps better set the stage for the audience to suspend their disbelief later on. And, it very importantly reminds us that no one character in Arcane has ever or will ever be 'correct' about the best path to move forward. It must always be a collaborative effort, and when we forget that, we forget ourselves, and we doom the world to a twisted vision.

[svcredveins]

An introduction to myself!

So first things first, I’m 23 and female (I will not mention my real name, you can call me Luna if you want or just my username lol). Was so unsure to post on here since I’ve created this account three years ago to share my heartbeat. I have also a huge passion of mine - to become a Porsche factory driver in the coming future.

So bear with clips here and there, I do feel weird though doing this to the public but hey, we’re all heart lovers right?

Anyway, reason is to actually just check up on myself every once in awhile and see how my little lady is doing and appreciate her. I’ve struggled with a lot of things in my life with responsibilities to my own health and with this motivation to check up on myself. I definitely need to workout. And since becoming a Porsche factory driver is my dream, as a sim racer, I need to workout anyway because once I get my pedals and foldable rig, I have to workout because my little arms and legs will not bode well after 20 minutes of driving haha. For now I’m just on a controller.

So with this account made, I must be more aware of myself and even not just physically, but mentally too. Even though this is to the world, seeing others share their heartbeats is a reminder to myself to appreciate how our bodies were made and on how fascinating the human body is and what it’s capabile of. Also with the idea of more self acceptance for myself that I am living and breathing human being with a heartbeat and that it’s okay to fail. This alone will help me go a long way with that mindset for my sim racing as well! Hehe. Sorry. I love my racing. But! There’s also something to add on to that.

The dream

I’ve always been the type of girl to love speed. Anything that gets my heart racing (pun intended) I enjoy. The sheer thrill of going over the edge and that is where I found my biggest passion - sports car racing. The adrenaline, the awareness of knowing your putting your body over the edge, the unknown of what will happen when battling against another driver...I love that feeling and racing gives me that feeling and it bugs me everyday knowing that I am currently unable to race due to money, however, that is my dream and I strive to achieve it!

You need to be so fit for and that includes being aware of your breathing and heart rate. But oh to go so fast around a track over 200kmh feeling like everything around you is going by slowly. Heart pounding, breathing heavily, heavy focus on one goal - to win...yes! Give me my Porsche GT3 Cup, GT3 R, and 963! Let’s go!

Two passions intertwined

So since I was a little girl, I’ve also had those rare occasions where I felt my heartbeat. It’s always interested me feeling the “lub dub” in my chest. These things just began to intertwine for me and it’s actually perfect because since I love the sense of speed and adrenaline with it, my dream job is to be a cardiothorasic surgeon and that makes a lot of money’s worth to get into sports car racing which is definitely expensive as ever! So that will indefinitely support my biggest passion. Two passions in one? Crazy right?! I’m very excited for my future, despite my personal mental issues, but I am a huge dreamer so that’s my goal. I’m trying to work through it!

I’m aiming to get a stemoscope and a pulse oximeter. I would love to record my little lady working hard during my sim racing sessions! I just need the proper equipment to do it with a chest monitor strap.

Thank you for reading this far if you have. As you can tell I am super passionate about both!

Editing

Fun fact about me, I also do editing! I do photo and video edits and have been doing it for about 8 years. Time has flown by quickly!

The photo above is the Porsche 963 behind the human heart, portraying my passion for Porsche and the strong desire to become their factory driver.

My heart

I’ll try to say some info about my little lady.

She is a strong one with fire in her arteries. After getting an annual medical checkup about a year ago, my doctor remarked that I have a strong heart which was actually comforting to hear from her not gonna lie, knowing that my little lady is a strong and healthy one!

Strong and healthy speaks loudly about my passion for Porsche and racing for them as a factor driver, and that’s actually really heartwarming thinking about it because of how much of a passionate type person I am so it’s remarkable how she beats so strong and confident! I cherish that.

Cardiophilia intentions

I’m more on the light hearted (no pun intended) side of the cardiophilia. I just enjoy the functionality of the heart, and being fascinated with it, but I don’t mind some dark cardiopheila. It does, however, have limits. A lot of limits.

I have done a fanfic back in 2018 where I guess you could call it more on the dark side, but I do not involve myself physically in any of that, nor do I condone it. I’ll definitely write dark cardiophilia in some sort of form in books which I have in the past, as I’ve mentioned earlier, so anything else, I keep my little lady all out of harms way and treat her nicely. No resus, pressure, or poking. I do breathholds at times though, but other than that, I have one little heart so I must treat her well as she should be treated.

[leaderoffestivals]

Mikejima Madara FS2 4*: On a Wintery Street Corner in Paris

Madara: PLEASE PARDON THE INTRUSIOOON ☆ Shu: GEH—? Mi—Mikejima… …!? What in the world are you doing here!?

Season: Winter Author: Yuumasu Characters: Mikejima Madara, Itsuki Shu

Shu: Nnngh… … Yawn~...

(Because of the consecutive all-nighters I’ve pulled—or perhaps due to the immense relief I felt at having delivered the final products—I ended up sleeping soundly until well past noon.

Umu. Fortunately, there’s plenty of lead time before the next job is due. I will need to prioritise a proper rest in order to achieve the perfect results. 

Perhaps, I could take a stroll and clear my head—)

Madara: PLEASE PARDON THE INTRUSIOOON ☆

Shu: GEH—? Mi—Mikejima… …!? What in the world are you doing here!?

Hmph! Cease this tomfoolery of yours, and get yourself gone this instant! The last thing I’d want is for a barbarian like you to be rampaging around my atelier!

Madara: Hahaha! What a nostalgic exchange of words!

I recall having a similar conversation with you back in the day when we were both in Yumenosaki Academy! It was about the Museum (1), if I remember correctly—

Shu: NON! I have no intention of reminiscing about Yumenosaki with you!

You came here for a reason, did you not? State your business quickly, and in as few words as possible. 

Madara: My business, huh~? What if I told you it's “Nothing at all”?

Shu: (glares) … … … …

Madara: Sorry, sorry! I was just kidding, alright? Please stop with the death glare already!

Actually, I’m here because Leo-san asked me for a favour. 

Shu: Hmm? Because of Tsukinaga… …?

Madara: Yes. Apparently, he’s been treating the pen case that Shu-san gave him like a precious treasure, however—

He was so focused on caring for the case, that he left all his writing stuff behind in this atelier. 

Shu: So that’s the reason he ended up taking just the pen case home with him? He’s quite the amazing fellow for doing that, honestly. 

And what about you? Did you really come all this way to Paris just for Tsukinaga’s forgotten items?

Madara: Nope. It just so happened I had some business in Europe, so I just dropped by. 

Shu: “Just dropped by”—you say? Even though “Europe” can be expressed as a single word, it’s still not a place you can travel about hither and yon on a whim and fancy. 

Anyway, Tsukinaga’s belongings aren’t here anymore. The other day, I happened to send some parcels to Seisoukan, so I slipped his forgotten items in as well. That’s where they are now. 

For heaven’s sake. Anyone and everyone seems to be carelessly leaving their things behind lately. They’re travelling abroad after all; I’d really wish they’d be more careful!

Madara: I agree. The language and culture are different here, so one shouldn’t assume that things will be the same as back home in Japan. It’s better to be more careful in the end.

However, I believe the reason people always leave their stuff behind in Shu’s atelier is because they feel so much at home here, you knowww ♪

Shu: Hmph. I’m not happy to hear that at all. This place isn’t a playground, you know. 

It looks like you've made a wasted trip. Will you be leaving Paris right away?

Madara: Nope. I’ve got some time before my flight, so I’ll relax and enjoy myself till then. 

… … Hmmm? Why are you all dressed up for?

Are you heading out? If so, I’d absolutely love to tag along ☆

Shu: Hmph. Forget it. Being with you, Mikejima, doesn’t exactly spell rest and relaxation for me. 

Madara: Haha! Oh, come on, don’t say that! As the saying goes, “No road is long in good company”, and two people will have more fun together than when they’re on their own, you knowww ♪

<An hour later.>

Shu: Umu. It seems there’s a flea market held here during the weekends. 

Madara: Oooh. What a classic Parisian scene~

You may already know this, but the origins of the flea market started right here in Paris. 

It is said that the name came from the fact that ‘antiques could be found in such sheer numbers, it was likened to a gathering of fleas’.

Shu: Urk. Please spare me your detailed description. I already knew about the name’s origins from long ago, and simply imagining it as you have described it makes my back itch. 

Besides, there are other theories about the origin of the name. 

Personally, I much prefer the idea that the name came about because of "the thrill which comes from the time and effort spent hunting for hidden treasures here, which are as elusive as fleas.”

Madara: The thrill of a long hunt, huh? Indeed, the accomplishment you feel when you locate a hidden treasure is reeeally something special!

Madara: … … Oh, what's this? It seems I have found something good right away!

Yes, yes! This piece of pottery will be perfect to display some plants ☆

Shu: Humu. Is gardening a hobby of yours? 

Madara: No, I wouldn’t exactlyyy call it a hobby, but—

I’m not sure who started it, but my dorm room is full~ of plants. I myself add in new ones occasionally too.  

Madara: [Excuse me, Shopkeeper! I’m interested in this piece of pottery here—]

Shu: (... … Hoho. His French seems pretty good, from all that time spent abroad. The best part of the flea market is the haggling over the price. It’s a battle of wits on how skilfully one can negotiate… …) <Ten minutes later.>

Madara: HEYYYY! I’m baaack, Shu-san!

I’m sooo sorry to have kept you waiting. Things got reeeally lively with the shopkeeper, and our conversation got carried away!

Shu: It’s alright, I don’t mind. I’m glad you got what seems to be a good deal. 

It’s really none of my business what happens to you, but witnessing someone I know get ripped off doesn’t sit right with me.

Madara: Ufufu. Have you been worried about me, Shu-san? You’re sooo kind… … ♪

Shu: Oh, for heaven’s sake. Stop jumping to weird conclusions. I simply did not wish to have an unpleasant experience. 

Madara: Hahaha! Even so, it made me reeeally happy ♪

And since I managed to score a good deal just now, I’ll give you a treat as a thank you for waiting!

Please recommend a local specialty, Shu-san!

Shu: Hmmm… … In that case, how about “Marron Chaud”—or roasted chestnuts?

It’s a winter specialty that’s sold all over town at this time of the year.

Madara: Hoho! That sounds great. It seems like it’ll warm the body up too!

There’s the scent of something reeeally fragrant coming from over there. Let’s go grab some right now… … ☆

Translator’s Notes: 1) (!) era story, Steampunk Museum.

[celaenaeiln]

you know whats even more insane tho? is that dick’s desire to be independent stems from the fact that he wants to be taken in as equal again by bruce—like yes he does feel restricted and hurt and suffocated by the insane amount of controlling that bruce did/do, but also hes equally as unhealthy as bruce bcs he sees that as bruce not considering him to be an equal anymore, that he doesnt trust him as much anylonger, etc. they are soooo unhealthy over each other bruh

Yes!!!!

Batman (1940) Issue #13

Perfect anon! This scene here is shows exactly what's going on with Dick's mentality.

On Bruce's side, he's really worried because "It isn't right for a kid like you to be chasing around and getting into fights!" and this is where Dick's mentality stems from - from the fact that Bruce lied to get Dick to drop it but he never clarified it. He made it out like Dick was the problem which I believe is the start of all his issues with Batman and why Dick's so overcompetent in everything- he feels like he has to prove himself.

After sobbing his heart about, Dick literally says "I'll run away and show him I can take care of my self!"

Bruce is so toxic sometimes. He blames Dick on incompetence because he's worried about moral issues of letting a child fight adult villains. wow.

In layman's terms, Dick seeks academic validation where he thinks his self-worth is tied to his academic achievements or in this case, how much of an equal he is to Batman.

Kori once said in a Titans comic -

Teen Titans and Outsiders Secret Files and Origins 2005

Considering how much of a free spirit Dick and Bruce consider Dick's robin, she's not quite right but she's right in that he thought his achievements would make Batman see him as an equal. When Bruce didn't treat him as such, Dick got really mad and started working harder and breaking his own records so Bruce would acknowldge him.

Meanwhile, Bruce was having a moral crisis and he's under the impression that if he kept pretending that Dick wasn't his equal, then Dick would eventually give up and quit. But this results in the paradox: Unstoppable force meets immovable object. However there is an answer to this riddle. When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, the immovable object is moved because it lacks any force for holding it in place.

Hence, Dick continued being Robin until Dick got fed up with Bruce trying to cage him. At the beginning Dick had free reign but as he grew older, Bruce kept trying to press him under his cape but Dick wanted to be free. He didn't want to be a sidekick, he wanted to prove to Batman that he was equal and worthy of him.

So the ultimatum was set and as Dick's eighteenth birthday drew closer, so did Bruce's dread that Dick would leave him behind so he fired him first. He would rather haunt his mind in anger than be forgotten and left behind.

In summary I can say Dick's addiction to becoming Bruce's equal is the result of an intentional misunderstanding by Bruce to protect him only it didn't go the way Bruce planned.

However because Bruce let this feeling fester for so long that now, even when Bruce tells Dick that he surpassed him and means it, Dick will never believe it because in his mind he will always be that 8 year old boy that Bruce once said wasn't good enough.

Bruce certainly feels guilty for it but there's no doubt that a small part of him is satisfied that because of what he did, Dick will always come back to him in the end. Even if it's not out of willingness, it will be out of sheer need to prove Bruce wrong and he's okay with that no matter how bad it makes him feel.

And that's why these two are addicted to each other in the most unhealthiest ways possible.

[odditycircus-2002]

Hmm, any chance you could do some hcs with a Fem Mummy! Reader x Quan Chi (MK1) with the basic premise being that the reader was revived by Quan Chi and is actually happy with being alive (or at least close to it) and as a result is loyal to him and later fell in love?

A/N: I can indeed!😄 Hope you don’t mind, but I’m a fan of Corpse Bride and Imhotep from Brendan Fraser's "The Mummy".

Eternally Loyal

Admittedly, you were caught off guard when pulled from your eternal rest, only to be thrust to life once more. Yet it was soon replaced with sheer joy when realizing you are walking among the Land of the Living again. By the looks of it, you had the mysterious pale necromancer that stood above you, your now beating and glowing heart in his hand.

He introduced himself as Quan-chi, the most powerful sorcerer in Outworld, Master of the Dead, and now your reanimator. You sincerely thank him for bringing you back to life, as you had only begun to achieve your true ambitions and plans. Quan-chi suggests that you may still be able to after you settle your debt with him. According to your House's tradition, those who save a member of the House of L/N are now indebted to the first. Bringing life back to your revived corpse counts as keeping one's life in your book.

You don't doubt that, with your reanimation, you were undoubtedly gone for a long while and thus in a whole new world and unknown territory. You figured it'd be best to make nice with your guide if you want to gain any advantage.

Quan-chi smirked when you inevitably questioned how you could repay your new debt to him.

"You can start by serving under me until I deem your debt repaid in full."

"On your soul then..."

Which Quan-chi agreed, but whether or not he was sincerely remained to be seen.

Quan-chi had made it so you had to occasionally steal and absorb body parts from others to remain alive and whole. While Quan-chi resurrected your heart and soul and used to influence your actions, they can keep you tethered to the mortal plane for so long without refueling. So you keep yourself wrapped up as you were to not reveal your constantly rotting and healing body.

But even with such a weakness, you have been given strength as Quan-chi gifted you with the ability to drain the moisture out of anything by touch alone (excluding himself), control over sand, and become sand, your preexisting telekinetic abilities.

Since then, you have loyally served under Quan-chi, executing every order and task with near perfection without question. Fervently hanging on to his every word and feat of magic so you may one day use it for yourself when you feel the time is right. You also had no issue cutting down any of your fellow minions if you think they are disobedient to your master. To which Quan-chi is not against, even with one of the demons from his Sisterhood of Shadow. In fact, he's growing fond of your usefulness and how you serve him well.

As powerful as Ermac turned out to be, he was ultimately a failure in Quan-chi's eyes. The same applies to Ashrah, whom Quan-chi could not control. Which is a shame to the sorcerer, as both were powerful tools. Oh well, if you do not succeed at first, try again.

In comes you, a mummified Edenian Noble renowned for her ruthlessness, problem-solving, and tenacity during a warring era before Sindel’s Golden Era. Who has (yet) to disobey him. Unfortunately, you were cut down in your prime on the eve you were to marry your betrothed to secure an alliance with another nation. A shame, really, as you had plans for the future. But you're just happy to be alive.

It helps that Quan-chi praises you whenever you perform a task well for him, such as uncovering lost grimoires, to encourage you to continue aiding him and fulfilling your debt. Eventually, Quan-chi awards your efforts with gifts such as flowers or a new robe as you continuously serve him well in his quest to overthrow Liu Kang. With each gift, you could've sworn you felt your heart beating within your chest, and not hiding on Quan-chi's person.

Often, he would converse with you about his studies and discoveries, doing most of the talking as you just listened and reacted. You couldn't help but notice how Quan-chi treats you more amiably, almost as much as he is with Shang Tsung, his fellow sorcerer. Perhaps even as a companion, as he prefers to have you follow him for his tasks the most. You like to think its because the Sorcerer has the same admiration for you as you do for him, as silly as it sounds and which you would be caught absolutely dead saying aloud.

Speaking of the snake-like Sorcerer, Quan-chi proudly introduced you to Shang Tsung as his latest work of genius once. The latter critically looked you up and down and admired the magic used to keep you together. Although to not admit to Quan-chi's magical prowess, Shang Tsung would ask.

"How do you know this minion won't turn on you like the others?"

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, your looser wrapping unraveling and posing to strike down the blasphemous Sorcerer, but before you could make the blow, Quan-chi explains.

"She won't,"

Quan-chi would glance back at you and softly run a hand under your chin, which you followed with your head.

"But even if the impossible happens, I hold their heart."

Quan-chi would summon your purple and green heart into his hand, petting it with his free hand like a small pet.

"It would be such a waste if I must. Isn't that right, Y/N?"

You, of course, nodded. That was the closest you would receive as an admittance of love from someone like Quan-chi.

Playlist while writing this:

"Loyalty" - Maria's Theme from Mad Father

"In the Dark of the Night" -by Christopher Lloyd

"Mr.Sandman" -by The Chordettes

"Monster" -by Lady Gaga

" Dark Horse”-Cover by Our Last Night

“I miss the misery”-by Halestorm.

[itgirl-111]

IMPOSSIBLE? WHATS THAT?

Impossible doesn't exist in my reality. I am the best to ever do it. Whatever they do i do it million times better. I am the blueprint. I fully understand that my mind is infinite and the world is just a mirror. Hence anything is possible. I do not doubt if something's possible or not because to me all things are possible. I am truly limitless. I have no limits. I am incomparable. I am unmatched. There's no one who compares to Me. Every little detail about me is so lovable and admirable. I simply dream high and achieve even higher. Everything is way too easy for me. They didn't know perfection until they saw me. I exceed everyone's expectations all the time. I am perfect from every pov. I am literally flawless.. I am once in a lifetime. It's Way too easy for someone to be obsessed with me. I am nothing like they've ever seen before. I invoke deep, intense emotions in people and make them feel like in utopia. I am the embodiment of first love. I am the embodiment of pure art. I am pure perfection. All I do is literally win. I raise the bar higher than ever. I am the blueprint. Nothing can match me. No one can match me, I'm just too perfect. I just keep going higher and higher. There is no peak to me. Everytime I just keep getting a billion times better. I am literally my best self. I couldn't imagine being someone else, all the beautiful qualities I have are just too unique and perfect. I am mentally, physically, spiritually, professionally perfect 24/7. I am literally perfect in every single way. I am beyond perfection. I literally have no flaws. The world hasn't seen something like me before. There could never be someone like me in the next billion years and there was and is no one like me. I am too unique. I offer things to the world no one does. I don't need to fix or change anything about myself. I am perfect in every way and I couldn't be anyone else and no one could be like me. I am everyone's first choice and top priority. I am literally so chosen all the time. I am the most special person people are so afraid to lose me. People literally throw the best opportunities at me because they know I deserve it the most. I never fail. I only win. Success begs to stay with me. Success and luck is my best friend. I have everything i need to be successful already. I always look best, feel best and achieve the best. I am out of everyone's league. I am everyones favourite. I am unforgettable. The vibe and the hype it creates is something unforgettable. I feel so nostalgic yet new. I am so one of a kind. I stand out way too easily. I only accept the princess treatment I deserve. I am love and abundance. I give a vibe like no other. You can never find someone like me because there's no one who is quite as perfect as me. I am simply unmatched. It's a fact not an opinion. It is so hard to not love me. It's so hard not to choose me

People beg to give me all of their love, attention, money, opportunities and happiness. Why am I so perfect? I am so limitless. It's impossible to not fall in love with me whether it's romantic or platonic. I am 100% confident that I'm successful in every way and I always will be. My beauty, success, and talents know no bounds. Everything works out in my favor. Everything happens better than i expected. Everything goes a billion times better than I expect it to go. Every day I become the best and the best version of myself. I am so amazing. The world is literally my oyster. Everything is equally easy to manifest. I literally am THE BEST. I Am so heavenly and beyond perfection

There's no limit for me, doubts, fears, negativity, competition, external validation, laziness doesn't exist at all. Only good things happen to me. Good things are literally begging to happen to me all day every day. I don't chase, I attract. Only the BEST most perfect opportunities chase me. I always make my future self proud all the damn time. My mere existence leaves people speechless and leaves their body with sheer goosebumps. I am nothing like the world has ever seen. Without a doubt they know I'm the best and no one does it like me. It only keeps getting better and better from here. I truly am beyond anyone's imagination…a dream come true.

2023 is my year and it only keeps getting better and better.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — NANAMI x FEM READER 

Nanami Kento’s only sixteen when he kills for you. He’s only twenty four when he dies for you. What was supposed to be his final sacrifice play, a life for life, goes awry when he ends up haunting you. 

wc — 13.5k 

tags — major character death, jjk typical violence/fights, mild(?) body horror, grief, betrayal, ghost marriage, Gojo my favorite deus ex machina Satoru, title from song of the same name by good dog 

There’s nothing worse than standing on the sidelines of a major battle. 

Of course, those fighting in the battle might disagree. You’re sure that any number of sorcerers would gladly trade places with you to be in the safety of Jujutsu High. But for you, missing out on watching Nanami fight is agonizing. 

You’re the perfect complement to his cursed technique. Where he finds the chink in the enemy’s armor with his 7:3 ratio, you shore up your own defenses. While other techniques are aggressive, prioritizing attacking first and early, your skills are more suited to a war of attrition. In terms of endurance, no one can outlast you besides Gojo, who’s sheer strength simply eradicates all obstacles in his path. 

Like Shoko, you’re a special case of sorcerer. 

Gojo was rare, prized, and the strongest, but he was anticipated. He was simply stepping into a role that had already been played out over and over again, just by different men. The arrival of Getou, Shoko, and you was what truly rocked the boat. Two special grades in one generation, an innate reverse cursed technique user, and a barrier specialist all in one class - a guaranteed success, if not for the fact that one of you went crazy. 

75% was still passing, if just barely. 

Though you loved Shoko, Getou, and even Gojo, narcissist that he was, you understood that you would forever be a fringe member of that class. As a trio, there had been no room for another. For a while you were content with that. It was enough just to be counted among them, to be special like they were. No other Jujutsu technique was as well suited to defense as yours, able to fortify the Achilles’ heel of your target. If Nanami could find the perfect opening for a weakness, your talent was to do the opposite. 

It was that very talent that had thwarted Getou time and time again, preventing him from entering sacred ground. Jujutsu High was as close as sorcerers could get to hallowed ground. It was their sanctuary, their first home, the place that had nurtured them to become killers so they wouldn’t be killed first. You couldn’t allow it to be desecrated, even by an old friend. 

So you stayed, and Nanami went. 

The worry was constant, the first few hours. It had been a while since you and Nanami hadn’t been paired together on a mission. Without you, he was simply a first grade sorcerer - nothing to scoff at, but not comparable to even the weakest special grade. With your protection, however, he was a monster. The two of you could achieve special grade status together, whereas apart, you would remain first grade only. 

It was a fact that had earned you many a partnership with him on missions that all other special grades were too preoccupied to take. The elders’ budget special grades, if you will. Cheap copies could work just as well, utilized the right way. 

But eventually, as it always did, your fear faded to a steady, constant hum behind your rib cage, but no more. You were always afraid for Nanami when he left your sight, since the first day you had met him and become inseparable. As if your techniques had been an indicator, it was like two magnets locking into place. 

Nanami has more than earned your trust over the years. He’s survived many missions without you just fine. He made it to first grade status without your technique’s protection in the first place. In many ways, he was the one who protected you. It was how your relationship began. 

Years earlier, back when you had been just students, you had been ordered to take Nanami with you to observe how upperclassmen dealt with curses. His patently obvious gratitude that Gojo wasn’t his mentor for this mission was further amplified by the fact that you were the anti-Gojo, the sweet senior. You couldn’t help doting on your underclassman, so uncorrupted by Jujutsu society. You remember when you and the trio had been pure children like that. 

No Jujutsu sorcerer was truly pure, child or not. It’s not a curse that threatens to take you out, not with your ridiculously sensitive detection field or your perfect armor. It’s another human, a bounty hunter without a cursed energy signature for you to pick up on. He lunges for your heart, just like another curse user will years later. Nanami cuts him into ten pieces before he reaches you, seven parts sliding left and three parts sliding right. 

Nanami killed a man for you when he was sixteen, and the blood shed that day has tied you to his side ever since. The two of you have a bond forged in iron and mutual understanding. 

He will always come back to you. 

For now, your duty is to make sure he has a place to come back to. If the worst comes, Jujutsu High will be the final battleground. You have no intention of losing an inch of the front line before the last battle even begins. 

Not that it will. For all your adoration of Nanami, the truth is, no one can compare to Gojo Satoru. With him on the scene, you’re confident the mess in Shibuya will be cleaned up soon. 

Shibuya, October 31st, 9 A.M. 

Bad news always comes in battalions. One hour after dawn breaks, the unthinkable happens. Terrible news flies on dark wings from Shibuya to the main campus. Ui Ui lands in front of the morgue in a panic. Black feathers fall around him, a remnant of his cursed technique and an omen all in one.  

Gojo Satoru has been sealed. 

At first, Shoko merely laughs her dry laugh. She pulls another heavy breath from her cigarette, her voice momentarily raspy before her technique heals any damage almost instantaneously. Smoke wreathes her head like a miserable angel. 

Ui Ui does not joke. 

With shaky hands, he presents Principal Yaga’s letter. The two of you are the only ones left on campus, deserted by all but dry leaves. There’s no need to read it out loud. Instead, you and Shoko stand shoulder to shoulder as you pore over the writing. No matter how many times you read it, nothing changes. 

Somehow, in one day, your world has been completely shattered. It’s like a law of physics has been broken, only more shocking because Jujutsu techniques are prone to ignoring natural law. No, this is more like if you had woken up and been told your entire life had been a hallucination. There can be nothing more real about this than if giraffes were suddenly unicorns because Gojo does not lose, but somehow it’s true. 

Gojo is out of commission. 

He’s been taken out by Getou Suguru, returned from the dead. 

There had been a time when you would have been happy to hear Suguru was alive and well. 

Now, you know almost instantaneously who Getou will target first. After Gojo, Jujutsu Society’s strongest line of defense is the sorcerer who can make Jujutsu High untouchable. Getou will burn to ash as soon as he steps so much as a millimeter within the barriers you’ve erected around the campus perimeter. 

Immediately, you start plotting, comparing pros and cons, running possibilities. If Gojo’s already out of the picture, you cannot let yourself fall under any circumstances. You’re the campus’ final bastion. 

You’re good in a fight. Watching Nanami’s back for years had taught you how to think on your feet, finding and removing potential for injury before the enemy notices. In a tricky situation, you can even use your technique offensively, using your barrier to inflict damage. However, none of this is what you really excel at. 

Given adequate preparation, you could build a city with walls that no curse or curse user could penetrate without fear of instant death, and it’s been years. You’ve been working on the campus barrier since your arrival at Jujutsu Tech, letting your power bleed into it a little each year until it had become glutted on a wellspring of cursed energy. It was now so powerful and so well maintained it could run off nothing but scraps for centuries, completely impenetrable. 

If this is truly Kenjaku, however, he has you beat in preparation by a few thousand years. 

Gojo is your classmate, your friend, but also, as it was so easy to forget, your savior. He was the keystone of Jujutsu society. Without his effortless strength, things feel hopeless. 

But even impossible battles must be fought, and you were willing to take it to the bitter, bitter end. From your vantage point on the farthest point of campus as you could get without straying outside of the protection of your barriers, you see your allies start to trickle in from the horizon. Without Gojo to simply teleport people in and out if and when he felt like it, they walk, run, and crawl their way towards safety, chased by mortal danger. 

Sometimes you’re close enough to help with a conveniently placed ward. Other times, you pray that someone else is in the right place at the right time. Irritation with the elders and the three clans with their petty power plays wells up within you. If you all want to survive, the sorcerers will have to close ranks. There can be no weakness within when danger looms so close on the outside. 

Inumaki gets in first, Yaga half carrying the boy across the threshold before he immediately leaves to find the rest of his charges. Panda and Maki stagger through together. Nanami brings up the rear, rounding up the last few stragglers. Casualties are more than you’ve lost in one year alone. You’re horrified by how thin your numbers are. 

All the more reason why your technique is so imperative at this critical moment. 

Yaga declares a state of emergency as soon as the immediate community is within the safety of headquarters. All other rogue sorcerers and stragglers, the few who have made it to retirement, those out of the country, and notably, Yuki Tsukumo are to return immediately. War is breaking out. 

The loss of Gojo Satoru is a heavy blow to your forces. Thus, the first plan of action is to get him back. It’s a harsh reality, but the truth of the matter is you only have a few real sorcerers left at your disposal. 

Yaga is working overtime making new dolls to patrol campus. Mei Mei and Ui Ui are currently your only contacts with the outside. At the moment, they’re trying to locate Hakari and Kirara. Nanami, Utahime, Shoko, Nitta, and Takuma make up what’s left. 

Ijichi and Kusakabe were lost at some point during the retreat from Shibuya. You can only hope they’re alive somehow. Then there’s the matter of Yuuji’s curse of an older brother, which no one seems willing to touch quite yet. Yuuji himself seems unsure of how to deal with him. 

The children are desperate to be of help, but it doesn’t take Shoko to see how traumatized they already are without taking an active role in the war effort. Survivor’s guilt has its claws in some of them already. The rest have their own little problems. 

And Nobara - you swallow down bile.

Nobara is dead. 

She was just a girl. Even worse, there’s no time to grieve, though she deserves a proper goodbye. One more thing war has taken from you. 

One more friend Getou owes you. 

If he tries to enter campus, you’ll make sure it’s painful. 

The three great clans have chosen to consolidate forces on their own rather than, in their words, come running to you. Their delusions of strength or more likely, their pride, won’t allow them to owe you any favors even when facing down the threat that took down Gojo. No matter - you don’t want them here anyways. 

Strong as they are, infighting would only make matters worse at this point. They’ll come to you when they’re desperate. You’re not above using that for leverage. 

Yuki is on her way home, racing back from Latin America, where she’d been doing more research for her goal of eradicating curses at the root cause. Having her here would set your mind at ease. Even if she’s not Gojo, any special grade is a blessing. Besides, with your barriers to counterbalance her mass’s weak points, she might be strong enough to put up a fight against Kenjaku. All your hopes are banking on her. 

For now, all you can do is wait. 

Nanami finds you in the kitchens at 4 am, slumped over a bowl of melting ice cream. He slides in next to you easily, slotting into his place. 

“Are you still working on that or can I have it?” 

“It’s gross now,” you sigh, finally uncurling from your hunched position. “Like ice cream soup.” 

Nanami shrugs half-heartedly and takes a bite, though it’s more like a sip. He makes a face. 

“Told you so.” 

“Some things have to be experienced, not told.” 

You’ve been together long enough to be able to recognize the telltale signs of a lecture. “Not now,” you plead. “I’m exhausted.” 

It only takes him a moment to give in. He’s always weak when it comes to you. Scooting closer on the bench, his shoulder bumps into yours. Warmth spreads through you where his shoulder is touching yours; his body a furnace. After scanning the room, he lets his head drop onto your shoulder. 

Neither of you can afford to show weakness in front of the students, but this is an unprecedented catastrophe. You know he can feel it as well as you can. You lean in too, letting his soft hair tickle your cheek. Taking his hand into yours, you reinforce the point where you’re conjoined, just to remind yourself that he’s safe and with you. 

He stirs. “Don’t waste your energy.” 

Even with Shoko’s constant healing and pre-prepared wards, guarding campus takes a lot out of you.

Although you know this, you can’t help the need to reassure yourself. Gojo had seemed so infallible. In the way one only appreciates what one had once it’s been lost, you wonder if you had all relied too heavily on Gojo. To let society crumble because one man has been taken out was pure foolishness. What else have you taken for granted that could so easily fall from your clutches? 

When you speak again, your voice is hesitant, though you know Nanami would never judge you. He already knows everything about your past. 

“Do you believe in ghosts?” 

Your breath ruffles his hair when you speak. 

“Like your village?” He’s blunt. 

“I’ve been thinking about Getou. There’s no way he came back. It’s impossible. How do you live through Hollow Purple?” 

Nanami’s laughter is wretched and serious. “This is Jujutsu. Anything is possible.” 

There’s just the slightest hint of emotion in his voice, indistinguishable if you didn’t know him well. You’re both thinking about her. 

But Nobara wasn’t a special grade, wasn’t the beloved of the strongest. 

Even more shocking than Getou’s return from the dead is his betrayal, which is a testament to the bond the strongest duo once shared. 

“I didn’t think he would haunt him,” you muse. It is a haunting, isn’t it? Even if Getou’s physical body is present, he’s a dead man. He belongs elsewhere now. What he is currently is an abomination, a perversion of nature. 

The mountain village you hailed from had been prone to superstition and folklore. Legends of ghosts had lurked in every corner, spirits born of resentment and unfinished business. Though it makes sense for Gojo to be Getou’s tether to the earthly realm, you can’t imagine the two to be so at odds that Getou would haunt him. Even now, it’s hard to accept. Regardless of how divided they were at the time of his death, Getou loved Gojo too much for that. 

At least, you thought he did. 

Nothing is certain in this world anymore, certainly not matters of death. 

Perhaps that’s what Nanami’s thinking about when he whispers into the cold silence of the cafeteria, “If something happens to me, I promise I’ll leave you in peace.” 

You tighten your grip on his hand, wishing he wouldn’t offer something he couldn’t promise. You know he’ll try. Nanami would never haunt you willingly. Ghosts aren’t always what they were living, however. Getou is proof enough of that. 

Instead of voicing your doubts, you just hold onto him tighter until Megumi finds the two of you. You’re grateful it’s him and not Nobara, who would’ve no doubt teased the two of you. The memory of her brings fresh pain. 

“Ui Ui and Mei Mei have news.” 

You’re a little surprised he came to you, but he shrugs. 

“They said to get Yaga after you.” 

The brother and sister duo have been your only form of contact with the outside, as Yaga locked down campus. Only those two, with their ability to shift between spaces, were allowed to venture out. 

If Gojo was still here- 

If he was still here, you wouldn’t be hiding at all. There’s no use fantasizing about the impossible - is what you would think if it wasn’t occurring before your eyes. 

Sitting behind the Principal’s desk in his office is Gojo Satoru, feet propped disrespectfully on his desk. In lieu of his usual sunglasses, his blindfold has returned, perching precariously high on his forehead, almost like a headband. It makes him look like a douche. 

Nanami freezes beside you. In a way, it almost makes sense. If anyone could escape the Prison Realm, it would be Gojo Satoru. Your heartbeat is calm, not a single instinct rebelling against the scene playing out in front of you. Despite your body’s lack of warning to the man sitting in front of you, as if it truly is him, alarm bells are ringing in your head. 

He cackles at the dumbfounded look on your faces. “Come on! You didn’t think that stupid little box was going to keep me trapped, did you? Even made time for a detour for mochi.” 

He makes his point by popping one of the little green balls of rice flour he loves so much into his mouth. You want to smack him. Everyone was worried sick, and he went to get snacks? 

But you don’t. None of your barriers have been ruptured, so this must be Gojo. If it was anyone else’s curse energy signature, you would know. Getou shouldn’t be able to set foot on campus. 

“Relax,” Mei Mei says, sitting on the edge of the desk. Ui Ui clings to her adoringly. “I found him picking out his sweets in-“ 

The wall behind her crumbles, a clear number line emblazoned on it for a second before it falls. Mei Mei has already dodged the attack, standing slightly to the left. She raises an eyebrow. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

Nanami hefts his blade and works his shoulder. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but you’ve got Gojo wrong. He’s a fool, sure, but he’s a soldier. He wouldn’t stop at a mochi shop before returning to find his students.” 

Gojo sighs. “And here I thought an incorrigible, selfish bastard was all the depth there was to him. Guess that’s true friendship for you, huh?” 

“Getou?” All of this is happening too quickly for your brain to catch up. The bandages-

He makes a hand seal and you flinch, expecting his dragon or another one of his nasty little curses to pop out, but nothing happens.

Nanami is already putting two and two together, being most familiar with the technique used. “You let Mahito take away your sorcery,” he breathes. 

Your blood runs cold. The idea of someone tampering with your brain stem and taking away your technique sends chills down your spine. Willingly letting someone perform such an invasive procedure is horrifying, but the limits Getou will go to seem boundless. He must’ve used idle transfiguration to look like Gojo, too. They had been around the same height. You can see the scheme unraveling before your eyes which means- 

“Traitor,” Yaga says in the doorway, looking at Mei Mei with a hardness in his eyes you’ve never seen before. He’s panting, having run all the way here. You can’t imagine how it feels, for the student you raised to have turned her back not only on you, but every ideal you’ve ever held dear. 

“I can’t believe-“ 

Yaga’s voice is full of surprise and betrayal before it’s cut short by her scythe. You want to move, but are rooted to the spot at the sight of your teacher, throat carved open. 

“Sorry, sir. It’s nothing personal. I’m just joining the winning side. You understand, right? You raised me to be practical.” 

“Mei Mei?” 

“Come here, Ui Ui.” 

For potentially the first time in his life, Ui Ui doesn’t obey his sister. 

“What’s this? You’re getting too old for a rebellious phase now, kid. Don’t you trust me?” 

When she reaches for him, he darts past her hands and into your arms. You shove him behind you. A look of hurt confusion flashes across Mei Mei’s face, clearly unused to anything but perfect obedience. 

“Go!” You urge him, trying to push out the door past Yaga’s body. Taking a quick inventory of the situation, you ascertain your chances. Yaga’s down for the count. You don’t know how serious his injury is. Nanami’s still fresh for a fight, but Ui Ui is dead weight. You’re dangerously low on cursed energy, but not near the bottom of your reserves quite yet. 

You don’t need to speak for him to catch onto the plan. Immediately, Nanami engages Mei Mei. Getou may be the evil mastermind, but he’s a non sorcerer for now. Ui Ui is the priority. 

“Go! Tell the others!” 

By the time you spin around, Getou has his fingers around your throat. Your barrier flares against him, leaving him scrabbling at nothing. Light shines in the space between the two of you. Across the room, you let your cursed energy block a blow from Mei Mei right above Nanami’s navel. 

Already, fighting with him feels so familiar, a song and dance you’ve done since you were students. He leads Mei Mei towards you until you’re back to back. 

It’s so familiar to defend while he attacks. Nanami’s sharp eyes find that elusive chink in their armor while you adjust to cover your weak points. You drop back when he slashes forward. He ducks while you throw up a ward so strong Mei Mei and Getou stumble back. In every way, you’re winning, yet it doesn’t feel like it. 

Getou’s calm is an ineffable as it was when you knew him, but his face- 

His face is unsettling. It’s another boy’s. He smiles, so horribly close to the Gojo you knew that your heart breaks, both because something so familiar has become so twisted, and also because you know at that moment that you’ve made a mistake. 

“You got it wrong,” Getou says softly. “I didn’t use idle transfiguration. I used a binding vow to seal my cursed energy for twenty four hours.”

The horror sinks in as you realize he hasn’t been weakened at all. The binding vow has made him stronger, twenty four hours of repressed cursed energy roaring to life in one minute. 

Your barrier pulses around you and Nanami, dying light fighting to keep the two of you safe. 

That’s when Getou pulls out his trump card. 

Backing away from the barrier, he pulls the Prison Realm out of one pocket, and a cursed weapon in the other. He’s dangling it in front of you like the world’s most obvious mouse trap. 

To get the Prison Realm, you’ll have to take down the shield.  

You, or Gojo?

The choice is obvious. 

At least Kenjaku is facing you and not Nanami. 

With a burst of cursed energy, you slice straight through bone. Blood spurts from the stump of Kenjaku’s hand as it clatters into your palm, the Prison Realm along with it. 

You expected getting stabbed to feel cold from experience, adrenaline numbing the sensation. This time, the burning starts immediately. Maybe fatal wounds are different? By the time you were in high school, your technique had improved enough that you couldn’t remember what those felt like. 

The Prison Realm slides into your hand effortlessly. The blood coating your side doesn’t matter anymore, because you have Gojo. 

When you hear the gargle of air in Nanami’s lungs, you immediately know what happened. There’s a jagged cut across Getou’s front, in the shape of his signature ratio. A barrage of cursed spirits forces you back. Desperately, you cling to Nanami as you shield the two of you with the flickering embers of your cursed energy. 

“We have to go,” Mei Mei snaps at Getou. 

He’s not listening, advancing towards you. A mistake, because you’re going to kill him. Your vision is red with blood and fury. With shaking fingers, you arrange your hands into the right shape.

“Domain Expansion-“ 

Mei Mei pulls Getou back, her crows beating a hasty retreat. She half runs, half flies down towards the boundary, taking him with her. 

You’re throwing every attack in your limited arsenal at them, but every single hit is absorbed by the body of a crow, leaving a trail of corvids behind. She leaves you with your dead best friend and a horde of children to protect. 

Nanami was dying for nothing. You can’t even open the Prison Realm. 

You’re crying against his neck, hunched over him. Even as he lay dying, you’re looking for comfort from him and you despise yourself for it. He’s fighting to get words out. You press closer to him to hear it. 

“I won’t haunt you,” he breathes against your forehead. 

“Nanami,” horrible, shuddering sobs rip themselves from your chest. You’re desperately trying to hold him together, blood making your hands slippery. You’re afraid you’re making it worse. 

“Don’t say anything,” you plead. “Save your strength.” 

You hear it when he takes his last breath, rattling, painful. In the distance, you hear a horrible noise, as if even the earth is mourning with you. Dimly, the realization comes moments later. 

That’s not the wind, that’s you. 

“Hey!” 

You can’t look at the voice, so consumed by your grief. You can’t even tell if your barriers are intact. 

“Pull yourself together! I need to know what happened!” Someone is slapping your cheeks lightly. You can’t register the sensation. Nanami is gone. You only react when they try to pull you away from him. Howling like a wild animal, you cling to his body, but even by instinct, you know it’s not the same. He may as well be a cut of meat now. Nothing that made Nanami, Nanami remains in this cold lump of flesh. 

Yuki Tsukumo was just fifteen minutes too late to save the day. She arrived right as Nanami’s body was starting to cool, and has been holding the crumbling remains of Jujutsu Tech together while you’ve been inconsolable. 

You wonder if the guilt is eating her up inside, just like the resentment you’re trying to keep a handle on is devouring you even as you know it’s irrational. 

In one attack, Kenjaku has taken out Yaga and Nanami. As the strongest, Yuki automatically assumes leadership, and she has an ambitious goal. 

“We’re going after Gojo Satoru.” 

Although you’re hesitant to split up, you admit that her plan has the most chance of success - not that it means anything, anymore.

Yuki will take Choso and hunt down Kenjaku with the goal of retrieving Gojo.

Yuuji’s team comes in for the second half of her strategy. He’s going to be sent with the other students into the Culling Games to seek out Angel, one of the few who can free Gojo since he destroyed all of the objects that could have saved him like the idiot he is. 

Utahime, Shoko, and Ui Ui are going to serve as communication and healing for either team. Ui Ui’s transportation will allow him to move in and out of the Culling Game, as well as bring Shoko to whoever needs her most. Utahime will guard them while Nitta and Takuma will continue gathering allies. 

Your role is to maintain the campus as a headquarters and safe house. You react, as Yuki predicted you would, explosively. 

“Am I to understand that you want me to sit here and allow children to risk their lives for me?” 

Yuki’s gaze is, as always, light-hearted steel. It’s not that she’s unreasonably confident, but simply that confidence is embedded in her DNA. There is no questioning Yuki because such a thing might as well not exist. Such is the cost of strength - it’s a quality Gojo also shared. 

“You are to understand that if you want these children to have a home to come home to, you must defend the campus. What happens when one of them is injured? We’ll have no safe house to take them to recover. What happens when we need somewhere to fall back? You might think you’re noble for offering to take their place in the culling games, but all you want to do is relieve yourself of guilt. Is that selfishness worth their lives? The world?” 

“The rest of the world can go to hell! We’ve given enough - let the children grow up here. I can protect them. Let Getou come for them if he dares.” Your blood boils at the idea. You’re ready for it, spoiling for a fight. 

“Is that what Nanami would’ve wanted?” 

That’s unfair. 

“Nanami would’ve wanted them to be children!” 

Yuki slams her hand down on the table. “How can they grow up as children knowing the threat of Getou will always be there? You can’t protect them! You already failed once!” 

Your heart clenches painfully at the mention of Nanami. For a minute, you can’t speak. Yuki softens, also reminiscing about Nanami. She had already graduated when he had just joined Jujutsu Tech. Perhaps she’s remembering the little blonde boy who used to beg her to spar when she says, “Besides, I’m the strongest you have right now. If you stay, you’ll free me up to fight elsewhere. Otherwise you’ll force me to stay and defend Tengen. Of the two of us, we both have duties we’re better suited to. Trust me.” 

Defeated, you can’t even verbalize your assent, you just nod. 

Yuki’s pity only makes you feel worse. You turn away as she outlines the rest of the plan. While she captures Mei Mei and takes all the information she can offer, Takuma and Nitta’s first contact will be Hakari and Kirara. Yuki will turn Mei Mei over to them to guard while she goes after Kenjaku with Ui Ui’s team as backup. 

Worst case scenario, she’s to retreat at any cost so Shoko can fix her up. If it comes down to it, you’ll abandon campus and Tengen to support her, leaving the students and Hakari to watch over it in your place. With your barriers, Yuki’s one weakness will be safely covered for. But in that scenario, you’ll need to end the Culling Games first to retrieve the students. 

Every aspect of the plan hinges on pulling off some miracle, pushing past your limits. It requires a Gojo level of skill and insanity, but it’s the only choice you have. 

Yuki’s teeth are bared in a grin as she ends the meeting. “Sleep well, everyone. Tomorrow I’m going to discipline a traitor.” 

She grabs Yuuji’s older brother by the collar with a hooked finger and drags him in. He looks startled. 

“Then we’re going to go get Gojo back.” 

It’s a fool’s plan. Gojo is as good as dead in that prison of his, completely helpless, and someone who could beat the strongest is a complete wildcard. Yuki is brilliant and powerful, but where she measures up against the oldest and cruelest sorcerers from another time is unknown. 

Still, it’s Yuki, the woman whose trump card is the most terrifying natural phenomenon known to mankind. If there was anyone on the current team who could get Gojo back - and you needed him back - it would have to be her. 

She packs her bags and is ready by nightfall to start hunting her prey. Choso is already waiting just outside the barrier as you say your goodbyes, having walked her to the edge of the perimeter. 

Impulsively, you pull her into a hug. This close, you can smell her strawberry shampoo. Her bangs tickle your cheek when she jolts, startled. Slowly, she relaxes and hugs you back. 

You’re almost scared to let her go. Tears are forming in your eyes. Watching so many of your friends disappear in front of your eyes makes you wonder if you’re about to let one more slip between your fingers. Yuki is so reckless. Yaga had always been afraid she’d die young. 

“Come back, Yuki.” 

Don’t let this be the last time you see her alive. 

“Stop that,” Yuki says gently, slapping your arm. “With Gojo out of the rankings, I’m the strongest. Don’t worry so much.” 

Neither of you say what you’re thinking. 

With Gojo out of the rankings, the spot of number one is a power vacuum that many would be dying (or killing) to fill. 

Time is ticking. Every minute is another minute Getou plots, but still, Yuki hesitates. The realization that she’s looking at you with pity is not a welcome one. 

“Are you going to be okay all alone?”

You force a cheery smile to your face. “I’ll be fine. I think I prefer it this way, anyways.” 

Putting up a brave front for Yuki is easier than confronting the actual situation. As soon as she leaves, campus feels eerie and desolate. There’s an unwelcome chill at your back - even at its quietest, Jujutsu Tech has never been home to just one sorcerer before. In just a few days, everything has gone horribly wrong. 

Sitting on the sidelines is as awful as it normally is. This time, instead of waiting for Nanami to come home, you feel the awful lurch of forgetting he died. Every day you wake up without the memory of it, only to feel that abyss open up beneath you over and over again at random moments throughout the day. 

When you make the curry he liked, when you have to jump for a book he would’ve gotten for you easily, when you roll over to cuddle into his warm body after waking up cold - all of these little instances are accumulated paper cuts: miserable, mundane, and multitudinous. 

You thought you’d be happy to have alone time to grieve, but the absence of Nanami is only compounded by the lack of your other friends. The last time you’d lost someone so dear to you, everyone had grown even closer, all piled all over each other like a litter of puppies. You had curled into one another, seeking warmth and companionship instinctively. 

You had been inseparable, sleeping together in the common area, eating together, even showering together. There had been no understanding of the naked body as something to desire, just the sense that if one of you were to be left alone, you would crumble. 

The pain of those days had been unbearable, but you miss the comfort of it too, like the sweet ache of a day-old bruise. Getou’s death had faded into a familiar hurt that could be suffered. Remembering those bygone days now brings the memory of Nanami rising soap out of your hair, or being sandwiched between Utahime and Gojo in sleep, his leg slung over the both of you, your face pressed against her back. 

Now you’re alone, having outgrown the nest. Or rather, it appears that everyone else has flown the nest and left you behind. You remain in Jujutsu central, holding the line as you always do. 

You break surprisingly fast. Perhaps Yuki knew you better than yourself. Like her dragon shikigami, she was almost half animal. Beautiful and feral, with a pleasure that came from obeying only herself - like a beast, she could sniff out the truth in you. 

Everyone was gone. You were lonely. You turn to the one friend you had left. 

For hours you sit with the Prison Realm, grimacing at the almost tacky feel of its strange skin. Your fingers slip over everything but the stitches, as if it repels you. The eye blinks patiently as you probe it with your technique. Even if you don’t have Nanami’s offensive technique, you can still find its weaknesses. 

You see none, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. For days, you try to pry it apart with brute strength. You pore over the archaic, arcane scrolls in the catacombs, throwing the contents of text after text at it. You’ve taken every cursed weapon in the armory to it. 

You listen for Gojo’s voice, still disbelieving that someone like him could be trapped in such an unassuming object. If anyone could escape, give you direction on how to help him, it would be Gojo. You fantasize that he has enough power to simply force his way out, or at least send you a hint in the real world. 

He stays quiet, slumbering. 

Talking to the Prison Realm is a surprise. You don’t mean to, it just happens naturally. In his place, you treat his prison as if it were him. You cart it everywhere with you, from laundry to patrol, cracking jokes and telling stories. 

Of course, it doesn’t respond as Gojo would have. There’s no raucous laughter or snide remarks. Instead, the unnerving eye of the Prison Realm blinks steadily at you. But this fragment of Gojo is all you have left of your scattered friends. 

And you miss him. 

Even though you had belonged to the same class, and in fact he was younger than you by a few months, Gojo had always felt like a certainty in your world. It was as if you had been born knowing him, like you knew the sky was blue or that water was essential for life. The Six Eyes was one of the laws of the natural world. Even disagreeable as he was, he had a way of reassuring you. 

If he had never been captured, Nanami- 

You choked. 

Nanami would still be alive. 

You were forever the last line of defense, the second choice. Your only job was to step up if Gojo failed and you hadn’t. The eye of the Prison Realm blinks in annoyance as your salty tears seep into it. 

A cold breeze brushes the back of your neck, almost like fingers, and you shudder. The Prison Realm’s eye seems to hold eye contact with you for a second, or something slightly to the left of you, but when you turn, there’s nothing there. It might have been a trick of the light, or a figment of your imagination, but you could’ve sworn there was recognition in that eye. 

Can Gojo hear you? 

The event shakes you so badly you put the Prison Realm away for the day and continue on with your chores. You maintain the barriers, you look after Tengen, and you keep updated on the status of everyone’s missions. You do such an admirable job of avoiding the Prison Realm that you almost forget about it until you see it lying on your bed. Your blood runs cold instantaneously.

You shriek when you feel it again, the breeze that shouldn’t exist. Spinning to face your assailant, you almost drop the Prison Realm - and yet there’s nothing there. Your technique returns nothing too, but somehow you know the truth as if by heart. 

“Nanami?” 

The air stills around you. Even the whistles of the birds in the trees outside are muted. The crawl of frigid fingers up your arm returns, now unmistakably familiar. Even the whorls and ridges of the pads of his fingers are known to you. 

Half of you is relief, half of you is dread. 

You did this to him. 

You cursed him. 

He nudges you towards the bed and sets the Prison Realm down on your lap. His fingers are cold but gentle as he tries to pry the box open. The eye looks uncomfortable. 

“Nanami, stop. It won’t work.” 

He arranges your hands into the shape of a seal, though of course, it does nothing without your cursed energy flowing through it. The intention is clear - he wants you to use your barrier technique. But you’re not Nanami. You can’t exploit weaknesses, you can only defend them. Hypothetically, you could try to reverse it, but the chances are unlikely. 

Still, if Nanami wants you to, you’ll try, even if every attempt you’ve thrown at it before has failed to even budge it. 

Nothing.

His disappointment stings. 

Again, he folds your fingers into the right shape. Again, you pour cursed energy out through the right channels, letting it wrap around the Prison Realm. Again, its boxy shape is silhouetted in white, as you find its soft underbelly. 

Nothing short of Hollow Purple could burst through it. 

Nanami lets you go. 

It’s as if it’s storming outside. Wind batters the windows until the shutters slam forcefully against the walls. The very foundation of the house groans in pain. 

“Nanami, stop! Please!” 

Almost immediately, the breeze dies down, as if Nanami is mildly ashamed. He’s more volatile as a dead man, easier to anger in a way he was never in life. You loved that about him, his patience, his goodness.

“I know you’re upset. I am too, but I promise we can-“ 

Can what? Fix this? You can’t promise that. 

You jump at his hands on you again. You’ll never get used to them being so cold. 

“Enough,” he writes against your arm, his finger tracing the letters over your skin. “I’m sorry.” 

You think Tengen might be scared of ghosts. He hasn’t been out much since you discovered Nanami’s presence, though the two of you used to discuss barrier techniques. You think Yuki might have told him to look out for you. 

There’s no guidebook to being a ghost. After that first day, you and Nanami experiment to see what he is and isn’t capable of. 

He can’t be more than a room away from you. Physically can’t. He describes it as a wall, except the wall is indeterminately high and wide. There’s simply no space for him to move to that isn’t less than twelve feet from you at all times. 

He’s only able to interact with the living world through you. If he wants to move a glass or close the blinds, he has to tug on you until you move where he wants to before he can put his hands over yours to complete the task. 

It’s strange, at first, living with a roommate you can’t see. In the early days, you forgot his presence often, and would be startled by the soft brush of cold hands against yours, then again when your hand moved of someone else’s volition to catch whatever you had dropped. 

Like all things, it becomes normal over time. Now Nanami is just Nanami again. You play chess on both sides in the afternoon while you wait for more information from the teams on the outside. 

Sometimes it feels like a snow globe, as if you’ve been preserved in time. Everyone keeps fighting on the outside, yet you only grow more and more removed. These days life is starting to feel like a dream. Nanami worries over you like he did when he was alive. You wish he wouldn’t, though it’s partially your fault. He keeps catching you sitting on the porch with the Prison Realm in your lap, staring off into the distance as you stroke its strange flesh and dream, dream, dream. 

In some ways, you’re beginning to understand Gojo, even appreciate him a little. Caring about life when you’re on a plane removed from existence is surreal. You have to remind yourself every day that you love Yuki and the kids, that you want to protect them and do your part. You loved Nanami, too. This is for him. 

He tries to keep you here and lucid. When you get too lost inside your own head, his hands shoot up to your face, roaming over your cheeks until the icy thrill sinks in and you remember what task you had been doing before you zoned out. It happens more and more often these days until eventually, even the coldness of his body stops startling you and he has to resort to gentle pinches. 

Yuki sends a letter during the first winter, when snow blankets the campus and muffles any sound. You barely hear Ui Ui’s footsteps when he enters the kitchen. Has he gotten taller? Children grow so fast. You hear from Megumi and Yuuji, but they don’t tell you about their heights, only if they survived and carried out the next step of the plan. There’s enough humanity left in you still to worry for those children. 

Would Nobara have grown too, if she still lived? The pain in your heart is muted, not as sharp as before. Nanami doesn’t think this is a good thing, but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Ui Ui barely stays to wolf down the dinner you’ve prepared before he disappears in a cloud of black feathers again, shuttling the two teams to each other. Yuki’s notes are brief things scrawled on any available paper. This one is ripped off a hotel’s memo pad and reads: 

Getou is Kenjaku from the Meiji Era, returned to life. 

I’m not sure if I can beat him. 

Getou was never Getou at all. Even as a villain, he stirred up lingering emotions in you that you couldn’t help. For the second time, you mourn your friend. It’s a cruel trick fate plays on you, to subvert death over and over again in all the wrong ways. Each time, those you love return to you wrongly. 

You feel the brush of hair against your cheek, as if Nanami has placed his head against yours. You’re equally grateful and miserable he’s here. 

He’s just another one of your dearly deceased that have been cursed. 

Supplies are running low. One day, you’re picking radishes from the garden when you think to ask him: “What’s it like?”

He pauses before he answers, but never lies. His fingers scrawl out the message, quick and dirty, like he wants to get rid of it. “Cold. And dark. I can only feel you.”  

Your blood freezes in your veins. 

You had thought you could have him back. It was a selfish dream, a child’s dream. It had been a miracle at first. 

Sure, he wasn’t the same. 

He was cold-blooded now, ran quiet and passive except for when you goaded him to move. You were his tether to life. Guilt roils in the pit of your stomach. You had seen nothing wrong with it even when he could only move through you. 

Already, Nanami is no longer the same. You wonder if this decay will continue the longer he remains stranded on earth. The first day you reunited with him, he had been different, darker. Has it gotten worse? 

Perhaps this is your form of a curse, to have Nanami rot along with the body that once held him. 

Nanami didn’t deserve this half-life. 

Alarmed, he taps your arm rapidly for your attention before writing out, “What’s wrong?” 

“Let’s go to Malaysia when all of this is over,” you suggest more lightheartedly than you feel. 

“So suddenly?” You can almost see his wry smile. 

After Malaysia, you can put him to rest. He deserves one thing he wanted before you have to let him go. 

Getting in touch with Yuki is getting harder and harder. Every fight comes with increasingly narrower odds, so it’s a while before Ui Ui can make time to get to campus between transporting students to Shoko. 

It takes even longer for Yuki to respond. 

The message the sealed envelope contains is a simple ‘Yes.’ 

Preparations are immediate. Kenjaku isn’t going to come just because you want him to. Thankfully, after a few years of hunting this elusive beast, Yuki has a few clues to how it ticks. 

She wants you to pretend to use your technique to forcefully pry the prison realm open. Immediately, you shoot the idea down. 

“It’ll never work. Kenjaku’s too smart not to know that my technique alone won’t be capable of breaking the seal, especially not if my specialty is defense.” 

“Are you alone?” 

All special grades are the same, you think in frustration. You’ve often witnessed Megumi on the receiving end of this from Gojo, being led around by the nose. Everything is a teaching moment to them so they can bring you up to their level, but sometimes you wish they would just say things outright. 

Nanami spells it out for you. On your forearm, he writes, “She means me.” 

“How-“

“One step ahead of you, sweetheart. Remember how I went after Mei Mei first?” Yuki’s smile is fanged. “She’s going to leak information of Nanami Kento’s miraculous return.” 

You aim for the battle to happen on home territory. It doesn’t matter anymore - if you lose, there’s no way Jujutsu Tech will still be standing by the end of all this. 

Sitting quietly on the main road that leads to campus, there’s a strange sense of peace permeating the air. The knowledge that this is your final stand almost brings you comfort. No more running. No more hiding. 

You end this here, or you die. 

It’s so simple. 

Nanami’s presence helps, too. Each breath slips you deeper and deeper into a semi-meditative trance. His hands run lightly up and down your arms, as he did in life. Even now, freezing to the touch, it’s grounding. It soothes you as you wait, eyes trained on the horizon. 

You have to time this just right. 

Kenjaku is just cresting the hill when you press your palms into the Prison Realm and start pouring your cursed energy into it. Nanami treats your body like a conduit. The familiar symbol of the 7:3 technique hovers over the Prison Realm like an old friend. 

“What’s this?” Kenjaku is, for the first time since he exploded onto the scene and ruined your life, confused. He scans the scene, looking for one Nanami Kento, very much missing in action despite his obvious presence. 

“Did you cannibalize your friend's technique?” 

You hate how he seems almost impressed with the idea. Ignoring him, you simply reinforce your barrier. He’s not getting to you or the Prison Realm. You’ve just realized you can access the reserves of Nanami’s cursed energy as well. They feel different now that he’s dead, but they’re still there. 

Predictably, 7:3 fails to pierce the Prison Realm. Kenjaku looks relieved. It must seem like your last bet had failed, a miraculous resurrection that went wrong. If only he knew that wasn’t the plan at all. 

Yuki’s infinite mass slams into him with enough force he goes careening sideways. He barely manages to catch himself against the ground with a hard grunt while she lands gracefully on her feet, not winded at all. Her curtain of blonde hair whips around her face in the wind, making her look like an ancient goddess. 

She doesn’t let up, going after him before he can even catch his breath. Yuki is a brawler at heart, matching her full physical fortitude against Kenjaku’s masterful use of technique. Her first blow catches him right in the cheek, pulverizing teeth and spraying blood. Her next lands square on his arm, snapping the bone clean through. 

When Kenjaku tries to fall back, Yuki rears back and kicks Garuda, curled into a ball, so hard into him he goes flying once again. She’s a wild beast - beautiful and feral. Kenjaku can’t give himself breathing room as she hammers him with attacks. Every time he gets too far, Garuda occupies him until she can get him in close quarters once again, where she specializes.

For a second, it seems like Yuki is winning. 

Then, right when Yuki has him cornered, Kenjaku grabs her arm and pulls her in, almost as if embracing her. He places one hand at her stomach, right where her vital organs are, and summons a mini Uzumaki in his hand. 

You realize with horror that he’s going to tear her to shreds right in front of you. 

Your reaction time doesn’t catch up quickly enough, but your technique instinctively senses what he’s about to target and throws a shield over her - if you hadn’t, she’d be dead. There’d be a gaping hole blown in her side.

You can’t count yourselves lucky just yet. 

Kenjaku takes advantage of Yuki’s loss of momentum to use his gravity technique, pinning her and you to the ground. Your shields are up, but knowing Kenjaku, he has something else up his sleeve. Every second you’re down is another second for him to unleash a new, worse weapon. 

Yuki moans in pain, her arm ruined. It’s bent at an awkward angle. Her reverse cursed technique is working overtime to heal her injuries enough that she can keep fighting. She’s a true monster, tanking hits like that at close distance even with your help. 

“Tsukumo!” Yuji’s voice is worried.

Somehow, the students are here. 

You close your eyes. The momentary relief you feel at hearing Yuji’s voice, safe and sound, is quickly overtaken by fear. Even if you can get back up for your fight now, Yuki can’t unleash her trump card while the students are here. Her black hole would suck them in at this close of a range. 

Whatever support they could’ve provided for this fight is heavily outweighed by the cost it’ll force Yuki to bear. Special grades fight best alone. You know this from watching Gojo. Everyone else drags them down. 

Choso had fallen back while Yuki was thrashing Kenjaku, likely because she had told him to. Now, Megumi and Yuji rush to him as he duels Kenjaku, severely out of his depth. They can buy him some time, but you’re not sure how much. Will it suffice to get Yuki back up again? 

Can Yuki even adjust to fight alongside them? 

Yuta peels away from the pack of students and heads towards you. “No time to explain! 

A disfigured figure lopes towards you, grinning horribly. You cringe at the sight of it, which instills some primal fear in you. “Is that-?” 

Yuta nods. “Yuji said we should bring him here. I’m sorry, there’s no time! You’ll just have to trust me!” 

Splitting your attention between five different bodies that need your shields is agonizing. You’re breaking out in cold sweat, fully aware of the fact that any lapse in concentration could mean the end of someone you care deeply for. Already, Yuji’s only avoided two near death experiences because your shield slid over him just in time. Yuki pulls Megumi back just as Kenjaku tries to drop a cursed spirit on him, and demolishes it with Garuda. She shoves him hard towards Yuta who’s stolen Mahito’s technique and is now employing it against him with a sense of almost childish wonder. 

That’s when a sixth person joins the fray, adding to your already buckling mental stamina. This one flies and is calling out to Megumi. 

Very quickly, the situation is only growing worse. Yuki pushed Megumi out of the fight because Yuji has lost control. She’s now on her own against Kenjaku and Sukuna, barely fending them off. Your shield cracks and reforms, only to crack again under a relentless onslaught of blows. You taste copper in your mouth, but you can’t stop. Nanami strokes your hair, trying to offer some relief as blood dribbles from your nose under the pressure of your technique being pushed further than it ever had before. Even tapping into his reserves, you’re finding that you’re about to run dry. 

Megumi’s friend dive bombs Sukuna from the air with a scream of rage. 

“Angel, don’t!” Megumi screams. 

For a second, you don’t think she’ll really do anything. After all, she’s with your students. You’re sure she won’t hurt Yuji’s body, but when she strikes with the intent to kill, you throw another barrier around Sukuna’s body just in time. It drains you to the point of collapse. Now Nanami’s physically holding you up, the phantom sensation of his strong arms around your waist keeping you from falling. 

Angel is furious, raining blow on top of blow on your shield. In your one second lapse in concentration, you drop Angel’s shield by accident. Sukuna grabs hold of her and tears her wings off her back before Megumi summons Nue to pull her back. Dropping Angel, once again safely enclosed in your shield at the cost of feeling like your skin is on fire, Nue heads to support Yuki, who’s losing her battle. 

Beside her, Megumi shoves the Prison Realm into her hands. She must realize she can’t win a fight with Sukuna, because she makes a miserable face. Megumi closes her hands around the Prison Realm and urges her on. You feel faint. You wish he would talk faster but finally, finally, he gets through to her. 

At her touch, it unfolds in a way it didn’t for you or Nanami. Gojo Satoru returns to action in a literal blaze of glory. The light pouring out of the Prison Realm is so bright it’s blinding. 

His face is sterner than you’ve ever seen it. Unobscured behind his blindfold, his eyes are blue chips of ice. He neutralizes Sukuna immediately and turns to deal with Kenjaku. 

“Wait,” Kenjaku says. 

Gojo doesn’t hesitate. 

“I have something you want.” Kenjaku bargains. At a gesture, Mahito, crushed by Yuta, pulls something out of his pocket. 

It’s Nobara, her form mangled into something tiny and unrecognizable. She’s missing an eye. Mahito must have used idle transfiguration on her. 

Your stomach turns. All the students are horrified. Yuta’s face has gone stony with anger, but Megumi turns to the side and gags. He fights and fails to keep from retching into the grass, down on his hands and knees. Weak yourself, you crawl to him to wipe the cold sweat from his brow.

Whatever Kenjaku was trying to accomplish with that little show fails. Gojo goes berserk. Kenjaku’s existence is simply deleted from the face of the planet as if he never existed at all. Such is the power of a god. 

You remember lines from a text you read long ago, as a student.

Through heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one. 

Mahito is wiped from the earth just as effortlessly, too. It’s too late for you to throw a shield in front of him. Even your scream is too late - Gojo is simply unmatchable. 

Your heart breaks. “We needed him,” you sob. “He’s the only one who can fix Nobara.” 

“We didn’t.” Gojo’s as cool and level headed as ever when he nods Yuta over. “You know what to do.” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Yuta says nervously. 

“Just give it a shot. Be greedy. Let your cursed energy take the shape it wants to.”

Yuta startles. He’s so used to control, keeping Rika on a tight leash. Still, he trusts Gojo immeasurably. 

Nobara’s resurrection is violent. You turn Megumi and Yuuji’s heads away. Her flesh unravels back over fresh bone growth. Her frame elongates and stretches. Yuta assiduously tries not to concentrate, and that tiny doll pops back into Nobara like it had been stretched out and wrangled back into the right shape. No sooner does he finish then Megumi and Yuuji wriggle out of your grasp. 

They wrap their arms around her, a three headed monster weeping. A few feet away, Yuki has forced herself into a sitting position, blood seeping from a cut over her eye. All around you, your friends are battered, but alive. Gojo saved everyone. 

All, but one.

One person he was too late to save. 

Gojo’s brow furrows. 

“Where’s Nanami?” 

A cool breeze touches your cheek as you feel the first drop of rain touch your cheek. The sky opens up above you, and soon the ground is soaked, so wet the soil has darkened. 

Gojo knows just by looking at your face, but he needs to hear it. 

“Nanami’s dead.” 

It’s cruel. It’s unbelievably, unbearably cruel. It’s a cosmic joke, because Gojo just lost Suguru, and now he’s confronted with the death of another old friend.

He never falters. He’s the strongest. But there’s just the tiniest wrinkle between his eyebrows as he helps usher all the students back inside the safe doors of the main building. 

His time in the Prison Realm doesn’t leave him. Although he’s mostly normal, and certainly does his best to act like it, tiny cracks show in him. He’s lighthearted and blithe about all of it, blowing off your concerns, but you know him. 

He develops a dangerous tendency to self-isolate and stew in his own emotions. Too volatile for meditation before, claiming he was prone to boredom, now he remains stuck in place for hours at a time. He doesn’t drink, he doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t eat - it’s like he’s frozen. 

He treats meditation like a chrysalis, trying to ascend to an even higher plane. But already at the top, he has nowhere else to go. Still, he sits cross legged on the stone floor in the heart of the catacombs snaking under the campus, dreaming for days on end. 

He’s searching for peace. 

You are, too. 

Perhaps that’s why he suggests funding your trip to Malaysia. You have a mutual understanding. You’re loath to leave him and the kids in this state, but Utahime promises to watch after them all. Thank god - Shoko and Yuki weren’t meant to be caretakers. 

The latter had already skipped town, claiming that being in one place for too long made her antsy. Still, the bonds of that hard fought war seem to hold her just as tightly as everyone else. She returns home every few days, Gojo’s twin in hollow eyed fake happiness. Ever the world traveler, she marks out a careful itinerary for you and Nanami. 

Malaysia is a good life, a peaceful one. You live for Nanami; you let him live through you. In death, he can be selfish as he never was in life. You spend days on beaches, sun bathing and hoping he can feel the warmth of its rays. 

You don’t forget how he told you once, in that voice like he would never recover, how cold it was to be a ghost. He told you later that it was like extended hypothermia, a chill that seeped into the bones and stayed there. 

You read the books he likes and eat the pastries he enjoys. Every time you check in, the hotel managers will worry over you traveling all alone, but you aren’t alone. You sleep wrapped in solid arms, with your back pressed to his chest. His breath tickles your ear when you sleep. Sometimes you wake up crying because it all feels so real, having him next to you. Every morning is a fresh heartbreak, but you savor it because it means he matters. You savor everything he gives you, every press of skin or gentle kiss, knowing it’ll be gone before you know it. 

All too soon, it’s time to go home. 

The fact of the matter is, he’s still a ghost. You can’t change this. Nanami’s life is already gone. You’re just clinging to borrowed time, trying to extend your debtor’s card to mark out just one more day, one more hour past what you were allotted. 

You can’t help wishing you had more time. In that quiet place in your heart where you keep secrets you can’t admit to anyone, not even yourself, you want Nanami to stay. 

In the real world, you start preparing to lay him to rest. 

It’s a complicated practice. You’re not sure how to bring Nanami peace when you’ve never had a ghost before, at least not a true, recorded one. You rely on old legends from your village and an ancient text Shoko unearthed from the library to figure out which ceremonies need to be performed so Nanami can finally leave this plane of existence. 

Nanami protests the idea of a ghost marriage. He doesn’t want you to be a widow so young. 

“Married to a dead man! Think about it,” he pleads. 

“I already thought about it. This is what I want,” you tell him stubbornly. 

In a way, it fits. Malaysia hadn’t shaken the urge for you to give Nanami everything he still hadn’t experienced in life. Grief is a permanent lump in your throat. He had died so young, too young. 

Your marriage will be a happy event, at the very least. All your friends will be there to celebrate. This way, everyone can let Nanami go with a warm memory. 

It starts with a feast. 

Say what you want about Gojo, but the man knows how to party. He’s not shy about throwing around his massive wealth to host the most lavish of dinners. In fact, he’s acting almost as if he’s giving away his own daughter. You’ve never seen him so absorbed in anything as in wedding planning. Flyers litter his room, and you have to stop him from demanding every item the caterer can supply on more than one occasion. 

It’s a night of merriment, the kind Nanami would’ve wanted - not the partying, but the effusive joy on his friends’ faces. He probably would have gotten it, if he had lived long enough to marry. Gojo drags Shoko and Utahime onto the dance floor where they do a strange three legged hop to the beat of the music. Nobara is enjoying the delicacies ordered on Gojo’s money. 

All around you, the people you and Nanami loved most are happy. You feel him rest his head against your shoulder. He turns your hand over so he can write on your palm. Your skin tingles with the ticklish sensation.

“Are you happy?” 

“I am. Are you happy?” 

“So much so I could die,” he writes back with his characteristic dry humor. 

Normally, it would make you laugh, but tonight it just chokes you up. 

“Sorry,” he writes after a second. 

You just bring his immaterial hand to your face and kiss it in lieu of words, hoping he knows how you feel. 

A ghost marriage is half beginning and half ending. Like a snake eating its own tail, it devours its own happiness. There’s no need for an official announcement. As the night wears on, the mood grows somber on its own. You know when it’s the right time. 

After the glorious, bright joy of the marriage ceremony, the funeral rites start. 

In a roundabout way, god is the closest thing you have to a priest. Gojo lights a simple, unscented candle taper solemnly. Dressed in all white, he doesn’t look like the friend you know. He looks otherworldly. 

You kneel in front of him. He chants an old prayer. The flame leaps with his words. You bow once, twice, three times, feeling your heart rise in your throat. Nanami’s presence is all around you, closer than you’ve ever felt him. When you press your head to the floor for the final time, Gojo’s voice is barely a whisper. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead as he helps pull you to your feet. This is what almost breaks you, after everything, this kindness from an old friend.  

When you rise, it’s time for the candlelight vigil. Your friends file out of the room silently. Yuki, surprisingly, does not leave. When Gojo stares her down, she only raises her chin. “I owe her.”

Only Gojo is left to lead you down into the catacombs, where you will meditate all night, thinking of nothing but Nanami, remembering his smile and laughter for when he’s gone. Yuki trails behind you. Nanami squeezes your hand as you walk, lending you his silent support. You squeeze back. 

Thus, two friends accompany you into the underworld. You will be the only one leaving. Gojo sets the candle in front of you carefully, making sure not to stir it with his breath. They leave silently, so it’s just you, Nanami, and a dying flame. 

The wax drips. 

Just before dawn, the candle burns out. It flickers, fighting, before it dies down into melted wax. You think you can feel the imaginary tether between you and Nanami be severed. A sigh escapes your lungs. 

“I’m still here,” Nanami taps out against your shoulder. 

It didn’t work. 

At once, relief and grief crash into you, a cocktail of emotions so complicated you threaten to hurl up your decadent wedding cake. The pain of knowing you’ll have to lose him all over again wars with the joy of having him even just for one more day, even at the cost of his own peace is striking. You feel horrible, but you can’t help it. 

You clutch onto Nanami’s hands, holding him tightly. For an hour, it’s just the two of you, weeping silently together. Sitting down next to you, Nanami pulls you towards him until he can cradle you with his body, the two of you skin-to-skin, so close the boundaries of your bodies blur. 

Your chest heaves in great sobs as you wail and claw at him. If you don’t concentrate, sometimes your hands slip right through him, hurting you all over again. You’re so overwhelmed by panic and grief, so much love you don’t know what to do with it, that you confess your secret sin to him right then and there. 

“I don’t want you to go,” you admit, tasting salt and ash in your mouth. You nestle in, calmer now that you’ve purged the bile infecting your system. It’s something Nanami used to encourage in you, refusing to let you bottle your emotions up. He knew you’d feel better once you let it out. 

He rocks you back and forth slowly, the action so comforting it almost lulls you to sleep, as exhausted and spent as you are. “I know,” he sighs, his breath stirring your hair as he rests his chin on top of your head. The circle of his arms tightens around you. “I know, sweetheart. I don’t want to go yet either. I want to live-“ 

Shocked, you bolt up and grab his face. 

“Nanami! Why? If you didn’t want to be exorcized, we would’ve never- '' Confusion boils under your breastbone. You’re already exhausted from a night of vigil, and somehow you can’t string the connections together for any of this to make sense. 

“Because you deserve better than to have me leech off your life. There’s no place for a ghost in the future.” 

You’re overcome with longing and misery, and then Gojo opens the door. The question is in his eyes. 

Nanami lifts your hand with his and waves. 

Gojo almost smiles, albeit ruefully. “Should’ve figured you would cling on. Guess you’re not so weak after all, Nanamin.” 

In Yaga’s absence, Utahime has taken over as de-facto principal, though you’re sure you’ll remain in her position after everything has been worked out. The only reason the other clans haven’t challenged her yet is because the far worse option is Gojo, and they consider her the lesser evil. She abuses her authority to place you on a mandatory break. 

“I’m fine, really!” You insist, even as she tuts at you. 

“You,” Utahime says sharply, “have been running yourself ragged. Has your body ever gotten out of our fight or flight reaction to Kenjaku? I get it, we need to help Nanami, but you won’t help like this. You need a break.”

“Malaysia-“

“Malaysia was another thing you did for Nanami! Don’t argue with me. Whether you like it or not, I’m pulling you off all missions. If you don’t relax, I’ll extend your sentence.” 

Utahime is a very strict jailor. Your days pass peacefully, with long walks underneath the flowering trees. You come to realize one of your friends is with you at all times, but you don’t mind. Even if they’re babysitting you, it’s good to have them around. In a way, Utahime shouldn’t have worried. 

No one is more adamant about finding a cure than Nanami, but you’ve lost your fire with his confession. You don’t mind if Nanami stays with you for the rest of your life, your ghost husband. You’d be lonely without him, haunting be damned. He could burn your life down to the quick to stay here, and you would let him. You’d do anything to keep him. 

The students are furious that their mentors are monopolizing you. One day, Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi sneak into your room. You hear them coming. Who couldn’t? 

“Shut up! She’s going to be back any minute!” As always, Megumi is trying to do damage control. You can practically see his eye twitching. 

Nobara tells him to shove it with all the authority of a girl people thought were dead up until recently. “We haven’t seen her in a week! It’s all Gojo’s fault,” she grouches. 

“Are we allowed to be in a girl’s room?” Yuji says, oblivious as ever. 

You open the door. “Not really, but I’ll make an exception this time.” 

You barely finish your sentence before Nobara and Yuji leap on you, bringing you to the floor in a tight hug. Megumi is slightly more restrained, but when he embraces you, he almost crushes your bones. Fondly, you stroke his hair. You’ve known him since he was a child and Gojo took him in. 

“We missed you-“ 

“Gojo wouldn’t let us see you-“ 

It’s a cacophony of noise, Nobara and Yuji are talking over each other. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, already frustrated. You don’t know how he puts up with them when they clearly annoy him so much, though of course you do know - because he loves them. 

Yuji touches your sleeve. “Did Nanami-?”

They deserve to know. 

“He’s still here,” you say, your voice broken. Nanami squeezes your shoulder in warning, a silent plea to stop. 

Children shouldn’t shoulder these burdens. You pull yourself back together, but Nobara is clever and quick on the uptake. She picks up on your changed emotions immediately. 

“Does he still have to go?” 

“Nobara,” Megumi hisses. “Be tactful.” 

“No, seriously! The straw doll we used for the ceremony gave me an idea. I wasn’t going to bring it up if everyone still wanted Nanami to move on, but if not-“ she looks at you hopefully. 

You nod at her, expecting Nanami to stop you, but he’s surprisingly quiet and docile by your side. 

“If we combine my technique, Mahito’s, and Kenjaku’s, couldn’t we bring him back? If Kenjaku can stay alive, why can’t Nanami?”

Of course. 

Yuta’s more than happy to use his borrowed techniques for Nanami’s sake, but as you’re all gathered in the morgue, you can tell from all the grim looks on the adults’ faces that this is something you can’t come back from. Resurrecting the dead isn’t just taboo, it puts a target on your backs. Everyone will want to bring their loved ones back, not just you. 

Is this a risk you’re willing to take?

You look around the room at all the determined faces. Yuji is deathly pale with restrained hope. Utahime, prim and proper, is guarding the door. 

You know instantly that everyone in this room is willing to take this secret to the grave. 

Yes, this is a burden you’re all willing to shoulder. 

Nanami is worth it. 

Yuta starts by using idle transfiguration on the doll. In front of your very eyes, the image of the doll seems to melt away, only to be replaced by Nanami. He looks like he was sculpted out of wax, still beautiful, but cold and stiff. All hints of life are absent. 

Wrapping Kenjaku’s technique around himself, Yuta grabs ahold of Nanami, whatever he is now, and pins him against the doll. Nobara strikes down through the center of its chest with a nail. Her face is set in determination. 

You feel Nanami begin to peel away from your side. Nobara pours more energy into the nail. Everyone is watching, transfixed, as your small team of sorcerers performs a miracle. 

Then it starts to hurt. Just a little bit, at first, like a paper cut until the pain grows so intense you can’t ignore it. Utahime is at your side instantly as you gasp. 

“Something’s wrong,” you say, voice horrified. “He’s slipping away.” 

Gojo, for the first time in his life, looks helpless. His jaw is clenched in rage that has nowhere to go. Strength means nothing in this situation. 

“Let go,” Nanami urges. His voice is barely more than a whisper. “It’s okay. I wish we got more time - in the next life. I promise. I’ll find you in the next one, whatever it takes.” 

His voice is breaking. In the distance, Gojo is barking orders like, “Hold on!” and “Just a little longer!” 

“Nanami, please,” you’re crying. Cold fingers freeze your tears on your face and brush them away. “I don’t want you in the next life. I want you in this one.” 

Your mouth is suddenly stinging cold, but you welcome the pain. This might be the last kiss you ever get from him. 

Nobara roars with rage and strikes a nail into the doll with such force her hammer shatters. Her eyes are feral with an emotion you’ve seen before in Megumi and Yuuji. It seems like she’s hit her tipping point, just as they did. 

Cursed energy surges from her into the doll. Black roses climb up her arms, twining their thorns up her throat and over her face. Still, her cursed energy output keeps building until the doll simply disappears. The nail stays in Nanami’s body, glowing with blue fire until it too melts into his chest, the hollow cavity where his heart was. 

Nanami’s return to life is quiet.

You’re clutching his face, fingers near frozen to his cheeks when you first feel the faint signs of life. Slowly, his skin gains color and heat flushes through his body, warmth bleeding into your aching bones. You can’t let go, or won’t, still cradling him. 

Nanami opens his eyes with a gasp that sounds painful. It takes another second, then his chest heaves, two more and he’s breathing, miraculously breathing, gulping in great inhales of air. You nearly weep, hauling him upright, pressing your forehead to his. He’s so beautiful, so alive. 

“There you are,” he says, his voice raspy with disuse. “I missed you.” 

Epilogue !

Yuji is visiting today, so you’re just finishing up the last touches on dinner. You’re making his favourite, steak so raw it’s practically mooing, on top of rice with an egg on top. You shake your head even as you grill the meat, letting Nanami’s and yours cook a little more. 

There’s a great measure of joy in being a hostess. If you hadn’t been a sorcerer, you think you might have been a party planner. Nanami says it’s not too late, but you’re content to keep your abilities confined to just your circle of friends for now. Utahime and Gojo came by just last week, doing the same old song and dance they’ve been doing since they were teenagers. Yuki has bets on when they’ll get married, Shoko says never. In your opinion, this is just their thing, and if they enjoy it, who are you to protest? 

You hear the patter of footsteps on the porch. There Yuji is now, off to bother Nanami before his mission, no doubt. Even now that Nanami’s too old to go on missions with him, as a result of Utahime’s newly implemented retirement strategy for sorcerers due to the drop in cursed spirits, it soothes Yuji to see Nanami before missions. 

“Whatcha doin’, Nanamin?” 

“Reading the news.” 

“You’re boring,” Yuji grouches. 

“I think we deserve to be a little boring sometimes,” Nanami says. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back for dinner! Can you-“ 

“I’ll make sure your meat is so bloody we can’t stand to watch you eat, you little rascal.” 

Yuji’s laugh is bright as he runs off your front porch down to the car where Megumi and Nobara are waiting. You come out to wave goodbye to him. 

Somehow, sitting on the sidelines isn’t so unbearable anymore, not when Yuji has grown so strong and capable. You know you can leave the world in his capable hands. He’s been raised well. 

Watching him leave, back straight and proud - looking so much like Gojo your heart aches, you share a loving smile with Nanami. He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the golden band on your finger. Peace and crows feet are beautiful on him, as on you. 

[fottitimioamore]

hii !!

i have a request,

could you write a rottmnt bros + april x fashionable!reader? like the reader is always looking put together with their outfits, makeup, and hair. fem, please.

thanks ! xoxo

Yeah totally! I'm lowkey jealous of people who have a fashion sense because my closet is 50 shades of gray. Literally. I think I have a blue shirt somewhere in there. Maybe.

I thiiink this was only a little after the ask came in, notifs on mobile are bizarre whyy

..............................................................................................

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♡ Pairing: All + April x fashionable!reader

♡ Warnings: None

♡ Relationship: Romantic

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Raphael

♡ He loves your looks! He thinks you look amazing all the time, but the fact that you can put together a fit no matter what is so cool

♡ He can't really wear clothes, given his whole shell situation, but he's gonna hype you up every time you show up

♡ So many compliments. It's almost overwhelming how much praise you get from this man

♡ I imagine his compliments are hushed, under a bashful smile that he can't help. He wants you to know how amazing you look, but saying it out loud makes him a lil' nervous

♡ He likes watching you get ready whenever he can. He's completely happy just sitting by you, watching your process

♡ He likes seeing you in his color. He'll never admit it, but whenever you incorporate a little bit of crimson into an outfit his heart flutters

..............................................................................................

Leonardo

♡ Man fell hard and flat on his face after meeting you

♡ No matter how long you guys are together, he will always be astonished at the level of perfection you achieve with every outfit

♡ From your shoes to your hair (which he is soo jealous of), you are the embodiment of a bad bitch

♡ He studies everything about every fit, always going to you for tips about his own when he actually wears something

♡ Please do his makeup. I just know he'd strut around all smug, proud of himself and your work. "Oh! Oh this? Yeah, my girlfriend did it. She's great huh?"

♡ If you let him (try) doing your makeup or hair, I swear you'll see hearts in his eyes. He's not great at it, but give him some pointers along the way and he'll be your personal assistant anytime you need

♡ Matching outfits. All the time. He loves matching with you when you go out. Makes him feel closer to you

..............................................................................................

Donatello

♡ This man draws his eyebrows onto his mask. There is no way he does not know his way around some makeup

♡ He's right there with you in the morning, granted his process is much simpler given his lack of clothes, and hair

♡ He still likes spending the time with you, even if he has to mess up his eyebrow for the 13th time just to have an excuse to stay

♡ Maybe you mess up one too many times and he must insist he do it lest he watch you struggle any longer ;)

♡ Now Leo can rock an outfit alright, all of them can. But Donnie? Whole 'nother level. Every time out of the lair with you, you guys are the models of NYC

♡ Like Raph, wearing his color is *chef's kiss* Most likely all of your duo fits will incorporate it in some way

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Michelangelo

♡ Star-struck. Every time. Always impressed at how put-together you look

♡ And like Raph, he wants you to know you look good. Unlike Raph, though, he is not afraid to tell you

♡ The world will know how amazing you look, doesn't matter if it's an everyday fit or something special, he is literally singing your praises

♡ When he's not hyping you up, he's admiring your sheer beauty. Every inch is pure perfection. Your hair, your clothes, your makeup, even the way you hold yourself.

♡ Perfectly content sitting watching you go about your day, goofy smile on his face (giggling and kicking feet vibes fr)

♡ He does like trying your makeup every once in a while, he is an artist after all. Normally though, he gets a little distracted and may start hiding little doodles on ypur shoulders. Nothing major, just something you can wipe of if you wanted

..............................................................................................

April

♡ Bad bitch duo. Whenever you guys go out, she loves doing a matchy matchy thing. You guys will always compliment each other

♡ Shopping sprees? Yes. That's really all here is to that man

♡ Pretty decent at makeup

♡ Well someone had to teach Donnie how to do his eyebrows

♡ I dont see her wearing a ton, but she knows her way around it would love it if you let her do yours from time to time

♡ Vice versa too, you ever offer to do her's she will literally fall depeer in love

♡ She really does admire how perfectly you present yourself all the time, it really is a mystery to her how one person can be so beautiful

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Feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome! <3

[locustheologicus]

An Abusive Party Claiming to be the Victim

Gov. Burgum demonstrates how the Republican Party suffers from Narcisistic Behavior Disorder

Watch this segment above. Ms. Kaitlin attempts to demonstrate the sheer ridiculousness claim that Gov. Burgum makes on the Biden administration, and in this segment, he argues that the reason he is calling the current administration a dictatorship is because many are expressing concern for Trump's own dictatorial style and overtly stated agenda.

Having suffered emotional and mental abuse from narcissistic behavior, I have learned to read the signs. These types of behavior disorders develop a defensive mechanism that spares the individual from reality outside of their control and manipulation. I have found that narcissists can be incredibly charming and persuasive at the beginning of a relationship. They are experts in creating an illusion of a perfect partner, often referred to as "love bombing." During this phase, they will shower you with affection, compliments, and attention, making you feel that they truly care for you while suggesting that others don't. But there are red flags such as excessive self-centeredness, a lack of empathy, a need for constant admiration, and a tendency to manipulate and control. Narcissists, or toxic energy vampires as they are also referred to, are adept at playing games and manipulating people to secure their own needs and desires.

Other characteristics include the following:

It very much appears that the far right has developed a socio-political version of this condition. Notice how Trump can also create that illusion that he connects and cares for the voter in hopes of achieving the attention and admiration he so desperately craves. Once you are attentive to the red flags, it becomes easy to see how, in the end, all that matters are his needs and desires. As for those who follow him, it appears that they feel that their own needs and desires are interconnected with his. Here again, you see the master manipulator at work. The MAGA community and the Republican party have embraced this condition to the point of a dysfunctional social co-dependancy.

The master manipulator then controls the social reality for his community. He is their only point of reference, and they can dismiss any other source that contradicts his narrative no matter how valid their point is. Just look at how skewed reality is for Trump in how he predicted the Biden administration from what it actually accomplished.

Consider also how Trump supporters are so willing to ignore facts and believe the fear and division that he feeds them. Yrs, Trump is a narcisist, but those who follow him and the party that completely supports him are themselves caught up in this condition as well. Sociologists would do well to consider the sociological condition that mimics behavioral disorders we see in individuals. What motivates a community to take up these patterns, to have a skewed sense of social responsibility, an intense form of social victimization, and an openness to abuse other groups that are perceived as a threat. Discovering this could help us understand the intense genocidal episodes that emerge throughout human history and why groups allow these atrocities to happen.

[anotherfansthings]

The Happy Couple

Neteyam x f!OmaticayaReader

Synopsis: Y/N’s father was once a fellow warrior to the Ole’eyktan Jake Sully, who died in battle against the sky people. As a dying wish, Sully promised he would take care of and protect his daughter, but what she wasn’t aware of was that they had dealt something of much greater significance. Becoming a future Tsahik to the Ole’eyktan’s eldest son: Neteyam.

Enemies to lovers | Minor violence | Big strong man crying 😍

PART FOUR :

'Y/N' Jake began 'we understand you're distraught from his forceful behaviour, but the boy is right. Much more commitment will be required from you to complete the partnership between you and Neteyam'

'Wow' Y/N scoffed 'I cannot believe you are defending such disgusting actions. I am sacrificing so much for you-'

'My Y/N' Neytiri interrupted with a tired groan

'No my Y/N. There is no Y/N anymore. My future has been stripped away and given to the people. I have absolutely nothing to achieve, everything I do from now on is planned or forced. All of my ambitions banished into the abyss, worthless and forgotten. Please,' Y/N begs 'if I am to give up on all my dreams the least I can have is some control between me and Neteyam, and the support of my family to correct this horrid mate of mine'

The burning tears streaming down your face had only now become evident; puffing your eyes and leaving your throat to be caught in the cold air. You knew by the gruelling looks upon Jake and Neytiris face that their hands were tide. You were stuck. Life now nothing but a force of reproduction and encouragement of the clan.

Jake cleared his tight throat, relieving the heavy tense air 'The Ole'eyktan training should level his stupidity, make him worthy of a leader and capable of acting like a family man, not this forceful nature you say he is acting out' he finished, but without adding an obvious sense of disbelief by widening his eyes at your previous accusation, thinking you were just being overdramatic

'My Eywa!' Y/N challenged 'you don't believe me do you. Can't believe that your perfect little soldier boy would be misbehaving. Wow. You know I had thought for a mere second that I would have the best in-law family, I couldn't have been further from the truth.'

Your words infuriated Neytiri 'Hey! You do not say that about my family. We didn't want this either, but it is sacred that a dying mans wish is fulfilled. You should know of this by now.' she cautioned

'My family huh? You can't hide the fact you both wanted me out of your responsibility. Two orphans too much for you to handle now is it?!' Y/N shouted

Jake was quick to grab your arm and stand tall before you 'Y/N you get that word out of your mouth right now. You and Kiri are just as much as family as we consider our own blood. Don't you dare pull that card right now'

His harsh gaze pained you, building upon the overflow of emotions that were building up inside of you. Instead of scolding you for being disrespectful, he let down his walls, slowly letting his affectionate manor appear before you. Jake's eyes become glazed, preparing to keep your eyes interlocked until he could no longer bear the sight of someone he cared for being this distraught. As soon as the first tear fell, he embraced you fully within his arms, nearly winding you. Neytiri stood with sheer disbelief from her husband actions; never seeing his emotions overtake his soldier mindset outside of their private conversations.

The beautiful moment was interrupted by your one and only, Neteyam.

'Oh my, what has she done to you?' Neteyam snickered 'what lies has she fed to make the dry man cry?'

Without a second thought Neytiri was by his side sending a flick to the side of his ear 'No my son, do not be insolent to your father with such low respect.'

'So, what nonsense has she really brought here'

Y/N turned to meet his eye line, with a face of pure wrath 'How are you even-'

You had subconsciously began to stalk your way over to the stupid boys position, being stopped by Jake.

'Y/N this is my job now' Jake declared, before turning his full attention to his eldest son 'boy we have heard of your behaviours, it should go without saying that we do not condone of these. Y/N now knows her expectations will be greater, but at her control. It's the least we can do. You read me, Neteyam?'

'No.' was all he replied

Y/N scoffed before allowing herself to come face to face with her mate 'No? Sorry poor soldier boy but this is not your decision to make.'

'No! I will not be humiliated like that. Every other worthy man here has the great chance to lead their family, there is no way I will have that taken from me!'

'Ohhhhhh, so it's okay for me to have my whole life stolen away from me, but as soon as Neteyam is asked to spare a small role it is not allowed?' Y/N remarked before spitting at Neteyams stance

The painful silence was quickly broke by Neteyams overly loud clapping in your face 'Well done my Y/N, you finally understand me. I will be in charge of our family as is every other man in the forest, and you shall be devoted in supporting that.' he finished with an endless smirk plastered on his proud face

You couldn't fathom any words to argue against his stupidity, rather choosing to launch yourself at him and just throw your arms at him in any hittable direction. He chose to extend tall and easily defend all of your attempts, but...

Neytiri and Jake were too slow to intervene with the fighting teens, that choice was now something of remourse, as you were laying blacked out unconscious on the floor.

TAGLIST:

@ellielovesrobinarellano

@arminsgfloll

@lu002

@hey-itsriin

@imthefunniestpersonalive

@flower-lise

@mashiromochi

@talbae

@hallows3ve

@pwallettes

@morks-watermelon

@alexiskook21

@neteyems-wifu-frfr

@dakotali

@liyahsocorro

@simp-for-fictional-people

[Sorry this seems a bit rushed and all over the place, for some reason growing up means having stupid responsibilities 🙄. Would much rather write and read Avatar all day 😍]

[big-greer]

Ill be the first to admit homestuck has its flaws and some glaring ones at that and it isnt perfect but like

I feel confident saying that homestuck was a once in a lifetime experience when it comes to the medium of webcomics and what it did to the online space in general.

To this day i have yet to find any webcomic series that really does anything as massive as what homestuck did. None of them are as grand as what homestuck managed to do with its story telling, its gifs, its animation and soundtrack. Hell the fact it even has animations and a soundtrack absolutely blows my mind. These are things ive never seen other webcomica do. Homestuck was a juggernaut in the online webcomic space and did revolutionary things both in its presentation as well as its story telling. Becuase it told a story in such a bizarre and unique way it stood out from anything else ive read.

Some other webseries have tried to do the same kind of story telling that homestuck did. But never achieved that same level of magnitude and scope that homestuck did. Which is another reason homestuck is so special.

Another thing that sets homestuck apart is its Sheer popularity. Other webcomica have blown up and done popular but none have held on to the same level of popularity that homestuck does. You still routinely see homestuck posts on twitter and tumblr, you still see homestuck content to THIS DAY! and not only that, but every 4/13 all the social medias get flooded with homestuck posts and it always ends up trending. A monument to the sheer popularity of the webcomic to this day.

And i feel like part of it is how accessible it is (despite whatpumpkins best efforts). You dont need to pay to read it, you have people who have made a functional site to read it, you have youtube videos on the lore and doing read throughs of the story. And Alot of people can just hop into it despite its daunting size.

Like i said, homestuck is a once in a lifetime thing and i wont argue it isnt

[astrum-aetherium]

henry being meannnnn like calling you a needy brat

yes. he would simply excel at degrading, being mean to you. he was made for it. the words, the glares, the unyielding gestures — he would know all the perfect ways to make you feel diminished and as though he was offering you a big, great favor by catering to you. it would be wicked.

i can specifically imagine it intensifying when you're posing a distraction to his work, trying to divert his attention and initiate or whatnot. it's common knowledge how seriously immersed he gets in his studies, considering his constant longing for maximized academic achievement and such. plus, his work would simply be a greater priority. it wouldn't have anything to do with you, it's just the way he is. therefore, your trying to steer him off course would irritate him, irk him — he would get much meaner than usual, especially if his day hadn't gone well (and, as we know, it rarely ever does).

you could be standing by him as he works at his desk, your hand merely dallying along his shoulder blades for some kind of physical contact. by now, you will have implied your desire a few times — too many for your liking, in fact, as it would paint you as quite desperate. and yet, he will have dismissed you each and every time. as a result, you'd simply resort to begging, "henry, please."

he would draw breath briskly and sharply as though he'd been punched in the gut, annoyed with you beyond belief. "you're being very bothersome."

"i need you," you'd disregard his malice, a storm whipping within you — you would seriously need him so badly that you wouldn't care about the striking, crude remarks.

"which has been made obvious," he'd grumble flatly. after shooting you and your pleading eyes a cool gaze, he'd continue, "i'm getting work done, which i am sure you can see." his hand would sweep over his textbooks in a demonstrative gesture, then, and you'd merely sigh, "please."

something about your tone would do him in. the breathlessness of it, the utter desperation. he would feel completely submitted to, longed for. and, somewhere deep within, it would please him. he would only be willing to assent due to the complete and utter knowledge that you would cede all control to him was he to do anything. therefore, with an exasperated scoff, he would rise from his seat, immediately towering over you — in one swift pull, he would rid you of your bottoms and your underwear, soon planting you upon the very same desk he had been working at.

he'd accompany his actions with words, sharp and venomous as a snake's bite. "you're a desperate, pathetic little brat. what is it you want me to give you, then?"

it would progress to him being knuckle-deep inside you, you sprawled out on the desk for him and propping yourself up with your arm, crying out and fluttering around his fingers as he'd work you, roughly and steadily. due to being so skilled, he would numerously take you right to the brink of ecstasy and then cease all action again, thereby robbing you of your orgasm a few times too many. this, of course, would upset you greatly — "henry, fuck. please."

"wasn't your needy self just pleading with me to be touched? your daring is beyond me," he'd respond. by the time his fingers withdraw from you, you still will not have come — he will have edged you relentlessly, which is why, upon being entered and consequently stimulated by him, you'd come in a matter of sheer minutes. he will have been perfectly aware that you would, and would keep going nevertheless — not that you'd tell him to, as you'd feast on the pulsating smolder of overstimulation — swinging into you roughly, evening out his anger.

having recovered from your passed orgasm, you'd tearily request for him to go faster, which would merely irk him more — he would even resort to swearing. "fucking brat," he'd spit, all breathy wrath and resentment, "do you even fathom how needy of a brat you're being right now? take it, silently." his harshness, despite eliciting a mellow sting, would thrill you greatly. and only because of that, you'd comply.