theavatarthatdies

Latest Posts by theavatarthatdies

I donated to a gofundme for someone in Gaza. Do you accept those donations for commission?

Yes! Any donation to a cause that isn't bigoted is welcome for comissions. Just send me a message with proof and your request.

Middle East Eye

Israel may cut off Palestinian banks from global banking system next week

The decision by Israel's finance minister to isolate PA banks would paralyse Palestinian economy

Palestinian banks could be cut off from the Israeli banking system starting next week following a decision by Israel’s finance minister to cease dealings between the two financial institutions, according to a report on Thursday by Israeli newspaper Haaretz. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has two days to convene a cabinet meeting to discuss reversing plans by Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich to isolate Palestinian banks from both the Israeli and international banking systems. The Palestinian economy is based on the Israeli currency, the shekel, making it reliant on ties to Israel and its financial dealings with the rest of the world must go through the Bank of Israel and Israeli banks.

We call this Apartheid.

Azula as the Ophelia of the Avatarverse (Warning: possible mention of self-harm and/or suicide)

If I had to compare Azula to a well-known literary character, it’d be Ophelia from Hamlet. It might seem weird to some people to read that. On the surface of the narrative, Ophelia is very much a passive victim, and Azula would set you on fire if you ever described her that way.

The worst thing to call somebody is crazy. It’s dismissive. “I don’t understand this person. So they’re crazy.” That’s bullshit. These people are not crazy. They strong people. Maybe their environment is a little sick. (source)

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. (source)

Banishing me was they best thing you did for my life. It put me on the right path. (source)

Nevertheless, there are strong parallels between the two in that they’re both teenaged girls whose mental deterioration is directly connected to their toxic environments and the failure of the adults in their lives to intervene before a major mental health crisis.

Even so, most analysis of these characters take a more individualistic approach, aiming to understand what’s wrong with Azula or Ophelia instead of examining the conditions that lead to the outcomes of these characters. In essence, they ask, “What is her problem?” when a more fruitful question might be, “What’s going on that allows this to happen?”

When Ophelia appears onstage in Act IV, scene V, singing little songs and handing out imaginary flowers, she temporarily upsets the entire power dynamic of the Elsinore court. When I picture that scene, I always imagine Gertrude, Claudius, Laertes, and Horatio sharing a stunned look, all of them thinking the same thing: “We fucked up. We fucked up bad.” It might be the only moment of group self-awareness in the whole play. Not even the grossest old Victorian dinosaur of a critic tries to pretend that Ophelia is making a big deal out of nothing. Her madness and death is plainly the direct result of the alternating tyranny and neglect of the men in her life. She’s proof that adolescent girls don’t just go out of their minds for the fun of it. They’re driven there by people in their lives who should have known better. (source)

You could argue that Ophelia’s fate is a consequence of the rottenness in Denmark. Thus, her decline and death can be read as an indictment of the court at Elsinore. Ophelia clearly needed help from the moment she found out Hamlet killed her father. But where was everyone? What were they doing? Why didn’t someone say or do something?

The same thing can be said about Azula. What befalls Azula at the end of the show is a direct result of the corruption of Fire Nation society. That moment by the bonfire in “The Beach” was a cry for help, but why did no one see it for what it was? Why did no one even attempt to help? Where were the grownups who could have stepped in? True, it would’ve been tricky considering her disposition and social status, but not impossible.

More importantly, what does all of this say about the societies that Ophelia and Azula live in? What’s going on in a society where people so clearly in need of help aren’t getting it? What does that say about who that society deems indispensable and who it deems disposable?

How are we encouraged by the narrative and by audience reactions to notice Ophelia’s vulnerability but not Azula’s? How does this reflect our society’s attitudes towards teenaged girls who are mentally ill? What are some things we can do differently to push back against those attitudes?

Everyone reblog this IMMEDIATELY

Skip Google for Research

As Google has worked to overtake the internet, its search algorithm has not just gotten worse.  It has been designed to prioritize advertisers and popular pages often times excluding pages and content that better matches your search terms 

As a writer in need of information for my stories, I find this unacceptable.  As a proponent of availability of information so the populace can actually educate itself, it is unforgivable.

Below is a concise list of useful research sites compiled by Edward Clark over on Facebook. I was familiar with some, but not all of these.

⁂

Google is so powerful that it “hides” other search systems from us. We just don’t know the existence of most of them. Meanwhile, there are still a huge number of excellent searchers in the world who specialize in books, science, other smart information. Keep a list of sites you never heard of.

www.refseek.com - Academic Resource Search. More than a billion sources: encyclopedia, monographies, magazines.

www.worldcat.org - a search for the contents of 20 thousand worldwide libraries. Find out where lies the nearest rare book you need.

https://link.springer.com - access to more than 10 million scientific documents: books, articles, research protocols.

www.bioline.org.br is a library of scientific bioscience journals published in developing countries.

http://repec.org - volunteers from 102 countries have collected almost 4 million publications on economics and related science.

www.science.gov is an American state search engine on 2200+ scientific sites. More than 200 million articles are indexed.

www.pdfdrive.com is the largest website for free download of books in PDF format. Claiming over 225 million names.

www.base-search.net is one of the most powerful researches on academic studies texts. More than 100 million scientific documents, 70% of them are free

I would love to write this

Listen - a whodunnit on a yacht with batfam... as the Waynes, esteemed, normal, absolutely not known for any detective work guests at the party, and famous private detective Percules Hoirot (or whatever) on the case.

Bruce, losing his mind by knowing EXACTLY who did it but being unable to SAY anything because this would bust his secret identity, and running interference so that his kids won't bust THEIRS, because what the hell are they doing, kids, just stop.

Tim being impatient (having a date with Bernard later?), and trying to lead Hoirot to the realt culprit by giving some velied tips and leads, and thus landing himself in a position of a main suspect in Hoirot's eyes (who is not as much of an idiot as batfam thinks), as Tim a) seems to know too much, and b) behaves very wierdly

Damian making it a game to see how far he can strech the truth, without outright lying or making stuff up, to implicate Tim further as a main suspect. He's doing great, Horiot eats it up, and if Damian keeps it up Tim WILL throw him off the boat, thus cementing his prime suspect status. Damian is having a time of his life.

Dick and Jason 'befriending' the real killer and toying with him by one just throwing an offhand comments about how the crime was done, and dismissing them. "Oh maybe YOU are the killer, Mr Novak?! Hahaha" "Don't even joke about it Dickie, this guy wouldn't hurt a fly, not to mention kill anyone, even if it was, for, i don't know, inheretance" "you're right, besides it's not like he COULD do it with his AIRTIGHT alibi." "must have been the aliens" "mush have been, Jace".

I love this idea

i would genuinely love a red hood show like the harley quinn show. a feel-good, comedy series that follows jason coming back from the dead and becoming red hood, getting his crew, becoming a crime lord, interacting with the bats and the rogues- it would be so fun, i'm convinced

jason's dark humour, stupid moments between him and bruce (less angsty and more bruce being an awkward dad), cute dad-son moments between him and harvey where harvey brags about jason and jason being so over it, the other rogues being so irritated by jason because he keeps foiling their plans, harley and him bonding over how shitty joker was (he's dead), and overall jason just being super fun to watch.

because let's be honest, jason is literally the kind of anti-hero character who would be so engaging to watch as a main character in a dark comedy.

i illustrated this post by @iminthedance

(and took the liberty of changing the colour to the one he’s actually wearing here)

I am so stressed out rn. I have a massive pile of coursework to finish and the exams are going to be the death of me

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

if you take out all the murder, the ending of assassination classroom is reflected in any student-teacher bond. no matter how close they become, there is always a ticking clock on the relationship. you only get one year with that teacher, with that class. the end of the year may as well be the end of the world. everything the students learn brings them closer to the point when they can leave the teacher behind. after graduation, the students will move on to their futures, armed with all the knowledge they've gained, but the teacher can't come with them.

there's a reason every episode's title has the word "time" in it. because the whole show is about the time class e gets to spend together, and the titles are a constant reminder that that time is limited.

the assassination of koro-sensei is class e's graduation. from that moment forward, the teacher, the class, and middle school itself, are no longer a part of their lives. it would seem the message is that nothing lasts forever. the sakura blossoms always fall, children always grow up, and the fun times always end.

worst feeling in the fucking world when the fandom falls victim to the delusions/lies that the character's feed themselves and than those lies are taken to be the True Essence of the characters

like i just finished rereading assassination classroom (for maybe the fifth time?) and focusing on karma + nagisa cus theyre my faves and like theyre fucking liars!!! ik its basically a dead fandom now so most of the content ive been looking at is years old at this point but like they would be sooooo happy to know accurate grasps of their characters are near nonexistent.

like karma WANTS you to think he's a cool genius lone wolf who only cares about his own abilities!! meanwhile basically every single action he takes in the second half of the manga proves each of those traits to be false outright!!!

like hes (sort of) a team player! he knows everyones strengths! hes thinking about other ppls feelings when it comes to the assassination! he's been putting in insane amounts of effort since he failed that one final!

nagisa WANTS you to believe that he's a fully selfless, weak, support player while being pretty much the exact opposite!! but he doesnt work in a team he works best alone! literally w express permission to work fully solo during the war arc! he wasnt thinking of how everyone else felt during his proposal to save korosensei! he wanted to be the one to kill korosensei (somewhat selfishly)!!

the narrative foils are narratively foiling and no one wants to give it the proper respect it deserves smh.

alright we all know about the hamlet+laertes foils thing. But have we considered. Gertrude and Polonius foils

For starters we have Polonius dedicating too much attention towards his kids and Gertrude paying too little attention to Hamlet but also. there is the implication that Gertrude pays not enough attention to Hamlet because she is more dedicated to Claudius. Whereas Polonius is apparently a single parent and this may have caused him to be overprotective. The play thus encompasses both ends of the terrible parent spectrum so to speak

Then we have the moment where Gertrude and Polonius directly enter a conflict. Where Gertrude criticizes Polonius with 'more matter with less art' and Polonius replies 'I use no art' On a literal level this is simply about their different ways of speaking. perhaps their different outtakes on life BUT we have to consider that at this scene they were both competing for the approval of Claudius. If we went with a more sinister interpretation we might speculate that Claudius purposely chose the people around him so that they would be constantly squabbling with each other. So that they would be distracted with petty arguments and won't notice that he is the ultimate cause of all the problems by murdering Hamlet Sr. I think the more important thing though is that Polonius and Gertrude ultimately come to an agreement with each other. It is almost similar to Hamlet and Laertes' sort-of-forgiveness scene during their duel, right? Except that Polonius and Gertrude's agreement is enabling Claudius, while Hamlet and Laertes's agreement (after Polonius and Gertrude both died) ultimately kills Claudius So you could say that this a commentary about the relationship of older generations with younger ones. It's almost like Greek Mythology in a sense, where the younger generation both echoes and displaces the older generation

finally, Polonius and Gertrude's deaths themselves also mirror each other. Polonius died when Hamlet stabbed him through the arras. It could have been either intentional (i.e. Hamlet knew that Polonius was treating Ophelia badly and supporting Claudius) or accidental (i.e. Hamlet mistaking Polonius as Claudius). Gertrude died when she drank the wine poisoned by Claudius. Again, it could have been either intentional (i.e. Claudius intentionally not stopping Gertrude, as she might support Hamlet against Claudius if push came to shove) or accidental. If we go with the both accidental interpretation it adds to the theme of "tragedy occurs when it could have gone another way, but didn't". If we go with the both intentional interpretation, it becomes a bit more interesting. We could say that Hamlet killed Polonius because Polonius harmed Ophelia, while Claudius killed Gertrude because Gertrude would help Hamlet. Ultimately there appears to be no right way to be a parent in the play, because both of the main parental characters die because of their parenting

Anyway I think Gertrude and Polonius deserve to suffer around each other in hell. Yeah

(posted this to the Hamlet discord too)

Very sad to hear Motaz apologize for choosing safety and evacuating as if he owes the world anything.

If anything the world owes him an apology. He kept on going despite his mental health decreasing day by day.

May he live a long and happy life, so he can tell his story to future generations.

They don't want us to call what's happening in Gaza a genocide not because there's not been an official ruling but because these things don't get set in people's minds via official ruling. Instead it is the oral history that sets an event into place in mass consciousness.

Us calling it what it is - a genocide - means they can't wriggle out of it in years to come. They can't continue to call it a conflict or a war if we cement it in public consciousness as a genocide.

So don't tone down your language. Call it what it is. Make sure the history books know what happened and the genocides that took place in Palestine, Sudan, Congo.

screaming at that video of the girl saying "I am appalled by people comparing things to the Holocaust. Do not use other genocides to compare it to this one." Girl!!!! You said it!!! You said the quiet part out loud!!! You admitted it's a genocide!!!!

it's always so fascinating and heartbreaking when a character in a story is simultaneously idolized and abused. a chosen prophet destined for martyrdom. a child prodigy forced to grow up too fast. a powerful warrior raised as nothing but a weapon. there's just something so uniquely messed up about singing someone's praises whilst destroying them.

What makes Jung Hwan so special is that he is very soft and warm-hearted, but doesn't really take enough credit for it.

This is highlighted in many scenes especially the one where he and his brother have heart-to-heart talk, and it is shown that all the childhood dreams of Jung Hwan (a football player, a basketball player and even a fighter pilot) were actually the wishes of his brother who couldn't fulfill them.

It tore my heart into pieces and my eyes were filled with tears, because the people who are silently kind and loving to others without being recognized are truly special.

No matter how many times I rewatch this show, my love for every character keeps only increasing. And Kim Jung Hwan will always always be cherished by me ♥️.

suddenly struck with thoughts about the devastating concept of Jason Todd

because he was good. because he had a bleeding heart despite every reason not to. he loved school and was good at it. he was the first to be adopted, with little pretense of guardianship. he did everything he could to be a perfect Robin and live up to an impossible ideal. he only ever wanted Bruce and Dick to like him.

because he met Bruce in the same place and on the same day that Bruce's parents died--the single defining moment of Batman's existence. and he made Batman laugh. he hit the Dark Knight, Terror of Gotham, with a tire iron. he wasn't afraid of the man who turned fear into a weapon.

because he couldn't save his mother from herself, but he tried. because he was too good not to try and save the woman who gave him up. too good to play the Joker's game. the crowbar didn't kill him, the bomb did. he died knowing he wouldn't make it and tried anyway. he died a hero.

because other Robins have died, but none of them put an irrevocable tear in the mythos of Batman. because Jason Todd always dies, in every universe. he dies for the sins of his father. he was put to death by popular vote, sacrificed by the crowd. doomed by the narrative and doomed by the audience. the boy who only ever tried to prove he was good enough--wasn't good enough.

because he has every reason to be angry. because he didn't ask to be murdered, didn't ask to be brought back, and when he did everyone acted like he was better off dead. Bruce tried to kill him and nearly succeeded. he's blamed for his own death and blamed for his resurrection. he can never come home because the house is haunted by his own ghost.

because he's been the hero, the victim, and the villain. because his family and his writers and his universe don't know what to make of him. they don't know how to look his tragedy in the eye. and how can you?

it hurts to look at the hero who cannot be good enough, the victim who will only ever be angry, the villain who can sometimes be right. the audience hates to feel complicit and, in this exceptional case, they are.

💥🙌👏

I heard someone say that the antidote to chronic consumption is creative contribution, so with that said I'm GOING to write a novel. Hopefully multiple novels. I've had this idea for a while now but I'm officially going to act upon it.

AND THEY’RE FUCKING CORRECT

Girlfriend — Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader

You found yourself sitting at the edge of a building. You took a small box and opened it, revealing the several cigarettes sticks inside. You pulled one out of its box as you push it in between your lips. The Tokyo city lights were amazing from above, though you had seen this view many times before. Maybe you’re getting high with yourself without even noticing. A low chuckle escaped your lips as you figured so.

Your ears immediately perked up once you heard footsteps from behind, “…relax, it’s just me” a gentle voice crept out as a tall figure appeared from the dark, Yuuta Okkotsu.

The special graded sorcerer had always something to do with you and it was always something about love. Maybe it was just you trying to deny it. You’d had sex for a few times, went on dates and even had shared the same apartment before.

But you guys were not a thing.

He was a jujutsu sorcerer and worse he was the student under Gojo’s wing. And you? You were a puppet of Kenjaku in fact you know everything little things he had done including him pulling a trick on Itadori’s dad.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why you always had not been accepting his and your feelings to get in the way.

“Are you not going to say anything?” You said firmly, staring at the guy that just settled down next to you without a word. “no, not yet.” he smiled, a genuine one. you scoffed, “the fuck you mean no? I did not come here for nothing.”

Silence fell between you both before Okkotsu turnt to look at you. “I actually..don’t want to seem like I’m using you.” he said as he stared at you flick the cigarettes with your fingers. “Use me? Then what do you wanna do? Propose me? Don’t be an id-”

“Yes..yes. I want to make us an official thing. I want to make you an official thing.” he said, almost seemed like whispering.

At the moment, his face was too close to yours. You can feel his hot breaths against your cheeks, slightly making you feel things you had never experienced before. A rush of blood flowed through your cheeks which caused Okkotsu to laugh.

“Are you seriously blushing at this? c’mon it’s not like we have not even slept together bef-”

“Will you shut up already? Your voice is so loud that people on the ground might even hear.” you said, trying not to break a smile as you push him away.

You loved these kinds of moments. Moments that cannot be shared with anyone. You knew he was serious about his previous commitment yet you were not convinced you agreed too.

“..I just don’t want you to get executed once they found out.” you exhaled before your hands worked their way for another cigarette as it stopped its track once Okkotsu stopped your hand.

He looked at you sincerely, “they won’t find out.. I’m really tired of staying as strangers and you know how much I would like to hold your hand without feeling guilty.” He said before rubbing his palm against the back of your hand gently. He grabbed your soft hand and placed it on his lips, giving it a peck on the veins.

your heart softened at the sight, his face illuminated by the city lights, featuring every details perfectly. His hair messily falling off to his forehead. he was indeed handsome though it may take sometime to actually admit it.

“I promise they won’t. I don’t care if they do, I only need a world with you and me in it.” He grinned as he crooked his head in your neck.

you laughed at his words, “do you even know who you are talking to right now?”

“my girlfriend — obviously.”

“You’re such a hard headed guy.” You smiled softly while rubbing his skull. Though your brain told you to stop your actions, your heart convinced you to trust his words.

And you did.

I lost the request to this but if you’re seeing this, thanks for the brilliant idea xx. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Thanks!

hey don't be sad. deeply silly 18th century Iranian bird scissors.

(source: benaki museum, auction)

Lover is a Day...

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Softcore

**¡Halloween, tricotrí! ¡Dame chavos, no maní! ¡No te escondas que te vi, en la casa de Pepín!

** 09/20, 2:18 p.m. - Gege, when I fucking catch you... there are no spoilers in this episode btw

**09/20, 3:18 p.m. - I hope you're bullet proof, because once you make the parallels, this bout to h u r t

...

Yaga had a knack for playing the role of a silent observer, that is, when he wasn't giving your group an earful (specifically your lot) for indulging in the most ludicrous antics right in his classroom.

I swear I wrote about the carvings in a previous episode but idk which and on whose desk but it is what it is

Who could forget the time he went ballistic because you lot thought it'd be genius to carve your names into the wooden surface of your desk?

(Side Note: You were the one behind that plan, with Gojo egging on Suguru to join in. Suguru had been adamant on not doing it, but funnily enough, he was the first to carve his name on the wood.)

(Add-On: Ieiri was the one who had the blade, a simple scalpel she always seemed to have on hand. Strangely, she carried it with her wherever she went. When boredom struck, she'd use it to carefully trim the ends of her hair.)

Honestly, for someone who had a strong distaste for vandalism, Yaga surprisingly couldn't find it in his heart to sand those carvings away.

(Side Note: While tidying up one of the campus storage rooms, Maki stumbled upon your desk from your first year. It had been concealed beneath layers of dust and a hint of mildew. Curiosity piqued, she couldn't resist taking a closer look, and there, amidst the neglect, she discovered two unfamiliar names, etched alongside Gojo's. She never mentioned it to anyone, but the curiosity gnawed at her. Still, she knew better than to pry into the Six-Eye user's business.)

Yaga swore he didn't play favorites, but if you pressed him, he might just confess to having a soft spot for either you or Ieiri (although, to be honest, it leaned more toward you, especially since you never missed a Friday for knitting lessons). When it came to Ieiri, well, their interactions were usually filled with her nonchalant and uncaring attitude, making it a bit tough for Yaga to really bond with her.

Yaga, as the implications suggest, regarded you as kin, perhaps even more dearly than blood. This sentiment deepened upon discovering the harrowing circumstances of your arrival, the cruel treatment you endured at the hands of the elders—treatment he loathed to the core. Yet, despite this fierce indignation, he was trapped in a web of helplessness. He lacked the political clout and cursed energy prowess to challenge the elders, not for now, at least.

So, all he could do was try to make your time at Jujutsu High a bit more bearable. And let me tell you, that wasn't easy when you had to deal with an insufferable tampon and that crafty schemer.

However

With you around, Yaga felt a certain calmness settling among your trio. It seemed his earlier assumptions about the two boys were spot on.

Gojo, usually the master of comical antics, seemed to don a more serious demeanor when you or Suguru were around. Gone was the need to perform, as you often referred to it during your knitting lessons.

(Side Note: Your theory was that Gojo's act served two purposes. Firstly, it was his way of appearing more human than the god-like entity everyone saw him as. Secondly, you thought it was his subconscious attempt to relate to humans. Gojo had always been seen as incredibly arrogant, having lived a life where he was hailed as a god. But even gods, you mused, might grow tired of their divine status. Perhaps, occasionally, they wished to experience life from the perspective of an ordinary "ant.")

(Add-On: You shared this theory with Yaga during your 24th knitting lesson. By that point, you had grown comfortable enough to openly share your thoughts with him. You tended to be more talkative, showing a vulnerability that made Yaga want to protect you like the child you still were.)

Suguru projected an image of calm and composure, but Yaga could discern the undercurrent of anxiety beneath the surface. His leg would bounce with the weight of silent worries, and his eyes would dart from clock to board, back to the clock, to you and Gojo, and finally outside. It was a restless ritual, but the moment either Gojo or you uttered a word, whether directed at him or not, his demeanor would soften. His leg would cease its nervous dance, his shoulders relaxed, and the lines around his eyes would ease.

Ieiri, on the other hand, remained something of an enigma. She often appeared as a two-dimensional character, lacking clear purpose or direction. Her nonchalant, carefree attitude occasionally irked Yaga. However, he couldn't help but notice the subtle looks she cast your way. The faint smile that tugged at her lips when you playfully insulted Gojo for the simplest of actions. Her golden-brown eyes, fixed on the faint glow of your own eyes whenever you practiced your cursed technique in the training fields; it seemed she could hardly tear her gaze away from you.

Love could be so wicked at times

Especially in the Jujutsu world

As a teacher, Yaga was an astute observer. It was his duty to decipher each of your unique behaviors, allowing him to tailor his teaching methods to suit your individual needs. But that also meant, that he'd be forced to watch both your highs and your downs.

Gojo's smile, once a radiant beacon, gradually dimmed as your interactions increasingly revolved around Suguru. In contrast, Suguru seemed to lean on you for various things ---. he always kept a slight distance, just five steps behind, the once-prominent dark bags beneath his eyes now softened. It was as though his very gaze held you in existence, fearing that breaking eye contact might make you fade away.

You, on the other hand, avoided meeting Gojo's eyes, even refraining from playfully snatching his glasses, all to evade his probing scrutiny. A profound guilt welled within, but you maintained a cheerful façade when you looked up at the tall boy, your eyes closed in a half-smile.

Ieiri trailed behind the trio, her lips gracing a gentle yet melancholic smile, her ember eyes holding a distant quality as she observed the three of you. A flush colored her cheeks when you teased her with a sly grin, the playful gesture diverting her attention from any pressing questions.

He observed it all, sometimes wishing he could turn a blind eye to the subtle shifts in your group's dynamics. There were moments when he yearned for the courage to confront his students, but he pondered whether that would truly be the wisest course of action.

But dwelling on such thoughts had to wait, for now, he charged headlong into a horde of high-grade curses. Halloween, in his personal opinion, was among the most dreaded days of the year.

The streets came alive with a riot of Halloween decorations. Every lamppost was adorned with eerie cobwebs, and pumpkins with wicked grins lined the sidewalks. People roamed about, their faces concealed behind an assortment of masks and whimsical costumes, some posing for pictures while others sought to startle unsuspecting passersby with their ghoulish get-ups.

Above, the muffled thump of music from nearby nightclubs resonated through the air, intermingling with the boisterous chatter and sporadic shrieks of delight from the revelers below. The city had transformed into a carnival of the supernatural --- he despised it.

In an ironic twist, it felt like a taunt. Halloween, a night of heightened fear, saw curses rise to a crescendo of malevolence. These were no ordinary phantoms; they were vicious, craving blood and terror. Yet, the unassuming non-sorcerer folk continued to revel, blissfully ignorant of the holiday's perilous essence.

It stood as a paradox, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made by his colleagues and students. Their valor had shielded these unsuspecting celebrants from the brink of a nightmarish fate.

The rational corner of his mind comprehended that they couldn't be blamed for their ignorance. This veil of secrecy was a necessity; envision the chaos if the ordinary populace were to uncover the truth. The mere panic could breathe fresh vitality into curses, a catastrophe waiting to unfold.

Yet, the acrid part, the facet he labored diligently to conceal, was far from understanding. It harbored a bitterness, an ever-present sting. Why had his students chosen the path of potential sacrifice for those who appeared indifferent, oblivious even?

Nevertheless, there was something oddly cathartic about exorcising scores of curses, with no discernible bounds to the might of his technique.

Still, a nagging thought persisted in the recesses of his mind, one that refused to be ignored — how were you and the rest of the group faring?

You were meant to be a team, a rare instance where the elders had paired you with Gojo and Suguru. Missions with just the three of you were almost unheard of, and Yaga had always been curious about the reason behind it. But every time he tried to bring it up, usually when he passed you some yarn, you'd get all defensive and tell him to hush before the elders caught wind of his questions.

(Side Note: I'm sure you're all wondering where everyone else is, so here's a quick update. The trio is holding down the fort in Shibuya with Yaga. Nanami and Yu have been dispatched near Kyoto, working alongside the students from Kyoto Jujutsu Tech. Meanwhile, Ieiri is back on campus, safe and sound, mentally preparing herself for the impending chaos when everyone returns, and she has to mend their wounds.)

(Add-On: Ieiri's usual smoke breaks lack the same charm without you there to light them up. It's just not quite the same.)

The memory of those moments still stung.

What exactly were you scared of? Because something must've scared you enough to deny him that piece of information, especially with how close the two of you have gotten.

(Side Note: Yaga was there to see the trio off. Surprisingly, you allowed him to pat your head, a simple but genuine gesture that warmed his heart. A grin threatened to spread across his face, but it was quickly overshadowed by Gojo's playful banter and Suguru's quiet laughter as they teased Yaga about wanting to be a father or something.)

(Add-On: You would never admit it, but you, too, felt the subtle warmth Yaga had alluded to. You watched his soul transition from its usual darkish purple to a fleeting, light orange glow, and it left you with an inexplicable sense of unease.)

Perched atop a towering skyscraper, Yaga allowed himself a stolen moment to survey the world below. In this rare interlude, a semblance of composure washed over him.

Since your arrival, not necessarily your fault alone, but a persistent unease had gnawed at him, weaving dread into the very sinews of his muscles and the calcium ions within his bones.

From this vantage point, he observed, as he always did.

On your side

There was an unsettling aura about a frowning Gojo, a sensation that gnawed at the core of things. It felt out of place, like a discordant note in an otherwise harmonious melody. A stoic facade, Suguru mused, would have been more fitting. Even tears, a rarity that would require an earth-shattering trauma, seemed a lesser evil than the frown that now etched itself upon Gojo's lips.

Was it Suguru's doing? Did his actions somehow bring this perpetual frown to Gojo's face? The questions swirled within him like a tempest, an unceasing storm of uncertainty.

"You know the truth," a voice echoed in the recesses of his mind, resonating with a cold and cutting edge that made him flinch. It was his voice, yet not his own.

He barely had time to complete his internal inquiry when his trajectory carried him toward an impending collision with the wall. That is, it would have if not for the interlocking web of chains, forming an impenetrable barrier that spared him from a potentially incapacitating crash.

Despite the quick save, Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist.

Nonetheless

Suguru couldn't help but offer a knowing smile as he redirected his gaze skyward. Above him, you soared, gracefully navigating from one chain to the next. The buildings became your towering trees, and the streets transformed into your verdant jungle.

Ugh, comparing you to Tarzan leaves a bad taste on my tongue for some reason

You didn't need words; he instantly grasped the meaning in your gaze. A gentle smile blossomed upon his lips, and he assured, "I'm fine."

With a stiff nod in response, you swiftly redirected your attention to a Grade-1 curse. Your chains sliced through it like needles through fabric, siphoning its cursed energy to unleash a cascade of attacks on surrounding curses.

But where was Gojo? The sound of shattering glass served as his only warning. Shards lightly scored his uniform and skin. Suguru's eyes narrowed in irritation and a hint of anger as he observed Gojo's stoic figure striding through the wreckage, seemingly unfazed by the chaos that surrounded him.

Tiny tears marred Suguru's cheeks as his uniform bore the brunt of the Force, revealing glimpses of skin through the delicate fabric wounds. Strangely, not a solitary drop of blood stained the scene.

He couldn't restrain his frustration, hurling curses at Gojo with palpable anger. "Oi, Satoru! Are you out of your fucking mind? You could've ended me right there!"

In response, Gojo couldn't resist an eye-roll. "Nah, you really wouldn't have."

Suguru's eye twitched at the albino's careless words, spine straight and shoulder stuff as he eyed the man before him. Meanwhile, Gojo looked absolutely bored out of his mind as he nonchalantly cleaned out his ear.

"Fucking bastard." "If you're so irked by me, come get me, asshole "

And so, the pissing match began once again.

Lately, their little 'spats' had escalated into something far more heated. What once was a light-hearted banter and a contest of egos had taken a darker turn about a week ago. The laughter that usually followed their bouts was now replaced by an uncomfortable tension.

And you were fully aware of the reasons behind this shift. But would you intervene? Well, that's still up for debate.

Just as the situation seemed on the verge of boiling over, your phone chimed with a familiar ringtone. A smile grazed your lips as you greeted the caller with a lightness in your voice.

"Everything going well on your end, Kento? Is Yu doing fine?"

As you spoke, you couldn't help but notice a sneaky curse trying to creep up on Gojo. It's tendrils aiming for his rights side. With a casual flick of your wrist, your chains skewered the unwelcome visitor. The abrupt action prompted Gojo to cast an inscrutable look your way, sending a shiver down your spine.

He's still hanging in there, so I guess he's doing alright." In the background, another voice piped up, "Is that who I think it is? Give 'em a shout from me!" You couldn't help but chuckle as Kento let out a melodramatic sigh, "You heard?"

You replied, "Yep. Tell him I said hi back. And pass along the same for Mei-Mei and Utahime."

Kento quipped, "You're pushing your luck."

With a casual flick of your wrist, you dispatched yet another mess of foul goo.

"Why the call?" you asked. "...No reason," came Kento's mysterious reply. You grinned, "Ah, I see."

(Side Note: In the current scene, Yu found himself in a comically dire situation. A curse had him pinned down, and he flailed his arms around, calling out for Mei Mei's assistance. Mei Mei, thoroughly entertained by this display, couldn't help but find Yu's predicament rather endearing. She watched, amused, though she refrained from helping him until Utahime, embroiled in her own battle against two curses, shouted at Mei-Mei to come to Yu's aid.)

(Add-On: Utahime was seriously on edge; this year's Halloween curses were exceptionally gruesome. Just catching sight of them was enough to rattle her nerves. She had half a mind to go say 'fuck it' and haul ass screaming like a little bitch. No judgement here cuz same)

Suddenly, you sensed a stray piece of debris hurtling toward your head. In a swift motion, your chains sprang to life, obliterating it before it could reach you. You shot an exasperated glance at Suguru and Gojo, who seemed engrossed in their peculiar spar—basically, just tossing things at each other.

Your patience snapped, and you hollered at them to cease their antics and refocus on the mission. Before they could react, your chains coiled around them, effectively immobilizing the duo.

Suguru relented with a pout, while Gojo couldn't resist a snarky comment. "Always knew you were kinky."

Your response triggered Kento's voice blasting through the phone in a tirade against Gojo's behavior, which only fueled Gojo's maniacal laughter.

(Side Note: Gojo didn't particularly want to laugh, but it seemed like an obligatory performance at this point.)

With an eye-roll, you shifted your attention back to the call. "We're almost done here, so no worries."

"Alright, stay safe. Don't trust those dumbasses for anything," Kento admonished before ending the call, leaving you quietly chuckling.

The tension was as palpable as ever, making the mission feel like walking on eggshells. You glanced at Gojo and Suguru, both now reluctantly cooperating. What started as a straightforward task had somehow morphed into a convoluted dance of egos.

As you ventured further into the cursed zone, the silence weighed heavily on the trio. Gojo's trademark smirk, usually as constant as the North Star, had transformed into a stern expression, his gaze fixated on the distance. Meanwhile, Suguru's fists were clenched, jaw locked tight.

Shit

Once upon a time, these two had been inseparable, but now it was like watching two tectonic plates slowly drift apart.

As you ventured deeper into the cursed alleyway, the oppressive darkness seemed to swallow you whole. The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it. You don't have time to think about it as you use your technique to identify the more hidden curses.

You cursed under your breath as bits of your clothing became stained by the grime of the walls. Filthy, damp walls pressed in from both sides, making it feel like there was no way out. Absolutely fucking disgusting.

Gojo led the way, his steps echoing off the grimy pavement as he followed the faint trail of minor curses. Suguru trailed behind, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

The darkness was thick, and the tension among your trio hung heavy in the air. It felt like a pressure cooker, waiting to explode at any moment. The distant cries of curses only added to the eerie fucked up atmosphere.

Gojo moved with an effortless grace, his sapphire eyes ablaze with cursed energy as he obliterated curses left and right. His movements were fluid, almost elegant, as he dispatched each threat with swift precision.

On the other hand, Suguru was growing increasingly agitated. He watched the curses he could've consumed vanish into wisps of nothingness with each sweep of Gojo's hand. His frustration simmered beneath his skin, boiling over into anger.

"Dammit, Satoru," Suguru glared, voice laced with annoyance. "I could've used some of those."

Gojo barely spared him a glance, his focus unwavering. "Too bad, so sad. You've got plenty in your arsenal already, Suguru. Don't get greedy."

Cue that angry mark thing on Suguru's forehead

You couldn't help but sigh internally, "I swear --- it's like a fucking k-drama breakup or something. Unbelievable."

But this was your fault

No, this is just things that have been simmering for a while finally boiling over.

And just what exactly prompted this...'simmering of feelings'?

...check your fucking tone and fix that attitude of yours.

Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try.

Fuck. You.

Also...

What?

Watch out, hehe.

(Side Note: When stressed, you curse. A lot. )

Suddenly, an especially powerful curse materialized, catching you off guard. It lunged at you, the impact sending you crashing into the nearby shop's window. The glass shattered like your composure, and blood painted the scene.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you were hurled through the air and into the glass window. The shards of glass seemed to glisten in a surreal dance of glimmers and reflections, and for a brief moment, the shattered glass created a fragmented tapestry of the scene, as if you were glimpsing reality through a shattered mirror.

Blue rose petals descended gracefully, an ethereal contrast to the crimson stains on your battered form. They tumbled from an unseen sky, their delicate dance casting an otherworldly beauty over the grim tableau.

Upon collision with the glass, it shattered into a symphony of discordant notes, the cacophony ringing in your ears. The shards dug into your flesh, tearing at your clothes, and for a suspended moment, the world seemed crystallized in chaos.

Lying there, gasping for air and stinging with pain, you took in the surreal sight of the blue rose petals falling around you. In the corners of your quickly fading vision, you saw flower pots and greenery --- it felt like you were back in Yu's dorm room. Safe and warm.

Oh, it's a flower shop.

First off, why the fuck is there a flower shop at the end of some random creepy ass alleyway?

Second off, why was it so quiet?

The eerie silence settled like a heavy fog, muffling the once-chaotic sounds of curses. You furrowed your brow, puzzled by their sudden disappearance. Where had they—

In a sudden and almost comically abrupt fashion, the souls of Suguru and Gojo popped into your field of vision. It was as if they had teleported into view, their ghostly forms shimmering with an otherworldly light.

You couldn't help but blink in surprise, their appearance catching you off guard amidst the strange stillness of the cursed zone.

"Fucking hell," you swore under your breath as you felt one of the two gently pick up your head before leveling it on a soft warm --- thighs. Bony ones at that so it had to be Gojo.

(Side Note: You couldn't help but instinctively reach out to palm the limb, the blood seeping from your scraped hands staining Gojo's pants.)

Suguru dropped to his knees beside you, his face etched with deep concern, his eyes darting anxiously over your wounds. He hovered his hands over the injuries, torn between wanting to help and the uncertainty of what to do next. The injuries weren't life-threatening, but they were far from insignificant.

"Hey, are you okay?" Suguru's voice quivered with genuine worry as he assessed the damage. "Damn it, you're bleeding..." Panic flickered across his features as he glanced at the blood, his usually composed demeanor giving way to concern.

His soul was crying

Gojo remained uncharacteristically silent, his lips parting only to remove his glasses. His gaze locked onto your injured face, and in that fleeting moment when your eyes met, it was a meeting of pearlescent and iridescent. The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for...

Before the thought could fully form, Gojo finally broke his silence. His expression turned grave, and he spoke in a low, almost breathless tone, "Use your chains on me."

You couldn't help but snort with amusement, even as a wince of pain crossed your face. "Now, who's the kinky one," you quipped, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

If you weren't injured, Gojo might have smacked the shit out if you, but in this situation, he opted for a sharp pinch on your arm until you acquiesced.

Drawing cursed energy from people was always a unique experience, but what intrigued you even more was the distinctiveness of each person's energy.

Suguru's had a bittersweet undertone, much like his tea, while Gojo's... Well, perhaps it was his cursed technique, but it felt almost exhilarating. Sweet, like his insatiable sweet tooth, and undeniably stimulating.

Your blood raced with adrenaline, and you couldn't help but savor the taste of Gojo's energy. It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul.

Separating your chains from their souls, a shiver of relief coursed through your body as most of your injuries miraculously began to heal. With a soft hum of gratitude, you muttered a quiet thank you under your breath. With Suguru and Gojo's assistance, you managed to sit up on the pile of debris.

"Are you guys okay?" you inquired, concern lacing your words.

Suguru, still clearly shaken by the events, snapped, "You almost die, and you ask US if we're okay?" He couldn't hide his worry, despite his gruff tone.

You let out a playful pout as you leaned into the warmth of Gojo's hands, tilting your head back like a whiny child. "Well, fuck you too, Suguru." "Don't you curse at me, you little-"

As you and Suguru continued your bickering, Gojo calmly brought you closer, positioning you against his body and enveloping your waist with his arms. His chin rested on your shoulder, and he let out a quiet exhale that felt like a sigh of relief.

(Side Note: The exhale was so strong that it lightly pulled on your moon earring. The very one Gojo gifted you.)

You froze at the unexpected closeness, momentarily taken aback, while Suguru observed in silence, a pensive expression clouding his face.

One beat

"You two really pissed me off, ya know?" Gojo's words carried an unusual weight, and both you and Suguru had never heard him sound so sullen. It wasn't meekness; Gojo could never be meek or weak, but his voice seemed, in that moment, small.

Though you couldn't see his face, you could sense the tremor in his voice, and it sent a chill down your spine.

Two beats

Both Suguru and you dared not to speak as Gojo continued to talk, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly as he spoke. It was as if he had to physically restrain himself from retreating into his usual emotional barriers.

"You disappear for a few days, and suddenly, you're both different. And then, it's like I don't even exist. You made me feel..."

Three beats

"Unwanted? Jealous? Neglected?" You interjected softly, your voice tinged with understanding. Gojo pinched your side, causing you to wince, and earning a sharp glare from Suguru. "Don't fucking psychoanalyze me."

"Sorry," you murmured, sensing the tension in his voice.

Four beats

Gojo tightened his hold on you, his voice muffled against your shoulder, "I didn't know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do."

Suguru leaned against the wall, seemingly lost in thought. "Typical Satoru. Always the 'strongest' but falls apart when emotions come into play." You clenched your jaw.

Five beats

"Suguru. Not now." You swore you saw a flicker of a satisfied smirk on the albino's face as you scolded said male. "Gojo, stop smirking." Now it was Suguru's turn to smirk.

(Side Note: Gojo was so ridiculously satisfied.)

From the corner of your eye, you spotted something amidst the rubble. Leaning over to pick it up, a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you realized it was a nondescript bottle of sake.

Nothing too distinctive, just an ordinary bottle of sake.

Balancing it in your hand, you inhaled the aroma as you uncorked it. A soft sigh escaped, and a small smile graced your face.

As you took a cautious sip from the bottle, you were pleasantly surprised by its smooth and mellow flavor. The warmth of the sake spread through you --- a nice contrast to the cold air of Japan.

"Are you serious right now?" Suguru's voice resonated through the eerie silence of the ravaged flower shop. With a shrug, you tossed the bottle to Gojo.

Gojo grimaced, "You're seriously gross right now. Who knows where that's been?"

You rolled your eyes at his comment, "Well, either drink it and unwind or ditch it to relieve some stress."

He stared down at you for a good three minutes, his expression still contorted, before finally grunting and taking a sip. The effect was nearly instantaneous as the young Six-Eye User's tense shoulders relaxed.

Six beats

The severity in his gaze softened as he turned his attention to Suguru, who wore a similarly displeased expression.

With the bottle held in his large hands, Gojo seemed poised to throw it at the raven-haired man, but at the eleventh hour, he offered it instead. Their fingers brushed for a fleeting heartbeat as Suguru savored a modest sip.

A sigh escaped his lips as he let the alcohol slide down his throat, his shoulders dropping in a similar manner like Gojo as you silently stayed within the albino's arms.

A hush blossomed among the three of you, your gazes fixed on various points, as if deliberately avoiding eye contact with each other.

Yet, even in that unspoken silence, it seemed as if words were superfluous. Simply being present in that moment, basking in each other's auras and existence, sufficed to transmit everyone's sentiments.

Amidst the remnants of the flower shop, with broken petals strewn about like the memories of a fading dream, a subtle breeze whispered its way through the shattered windows, carrying the scent of blossoms that once danced in vibrant hues. And a soft, distant chirping of birds carried through the broken windows --- ah, it was morning already.

Suguru, his grip on the sake bottle loosening, glanced around at the desolation surrounding you. His eyes, once filled with annoyance, now held a touch of melancholy.

Suguru's gaze finally shifted, meeting Gojo's eyes for the briefest of moments. A flicker of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of...something.

As if by an unspoken agreement, Gojo lifted the bottle once more, offering it to Suguru. With a nod of appreciation, Suguru accepted, their bond acknowledged in this simple act.

You couldn't help but make an undignified noise as you tried to reach for the bottle, "Oi! Don't drink it all, I want some too!"

With a playful smirk, Gojo leaned slightly away from Suguru, extending the bottle above you, just out of your reach. "Oh, you want some too?" he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Suguru joined in with a sly grin, "You know, sharing is caring."

You responded with an exasperated sigh, your attempt to grab the bottle foiled by Gojo's playful maneuvering. "Alright, alright, you guys win. Just pass it over here before I start feeling left out." Ironic.

Gojo and Suguru persisted in their playful teasing, much to your chagrin, as you struggled within Gojo's grasp to lower his arm, desperately attempting to reach the bottle he held aloft. Suguru's laughter echoed through the room, while Gojo cackled with the exuberance of a madman.

From his vantage point, Yaga couldn't suppress a chuckle as he witnessed the scene unfold. It warmed his heart to see the tension between the three of you dissipate—perhaps not entirely, but enough that he believed everyone would experience a sense of relief come the next school day.

Seven beats

...

Song Inspo: Ray Laurél - CHARLES JEFFREY

(A/N): Hopefully, one day I'll see TCT on a 'JJK Tumblr fanfic recommendations' TikTok vid --- the moment people recommend this to others on that fucking app, that's when I know I'm doing a good job 💀

Valeria Garza has a chokehold on me rn. Ooo, should I write for CoD? It'd be interesting deciphering their personalities considering the shit load of trauma they all got going on.

09/20 - In the middle of writing this, a kitten sucked into my yard and I have dogs. I had to pry the poor thing out of their mouths (it's alive! Ran off tho). Unfortunately, the kitten did bite me. So I'm not writing this with an injured hand and a prayer that I don't have an infection. 🥹

09/21 - Just as I was finishing up, I received an e-mail from the Head of my Bachelor's Department saying that my current classes were not valid for my degree and that I'd have to re-enroll. I spent a whole 15 minutes bawling my eyes out, crying to mami on the phone before the mother fuckers had the nerve to tell me it was an error and I'm fine.

09/23 - it's like 12am rn and the most horrible thing happened and ugh, I could not stop bawling my eyes out and I was bleeding everywhere. I'm fine now but like damn bro.

Originally:

This episode was supposed to be published on September 20 due to, uh, reasons. (JJK 236 spoilers parallel) However, shit happened and I didn't publish it in time. My bad bros, hoes, and non-binaries bitches.

Originally, I had planned to kick off this episode from Suguru's or someone else's perspective – anyone but Yaga's. But, at the last second, I realized we needed a bit more Yaga content. Plus, it'd be intriguing to delve into his viewpoint regarding the cursed trio's dynamics and all that jazz.

"...gentle yet melancholic smile," was actually supposed to just be a 'gentle small smile.' This is because Ieiri was just happy to be there within the boundaries of your presence. But I changed it because, when written this way, it just confirms that Ieiri knows her status in the group. As in, she doesn't have an actual status.

"...Nah, you really wouldn't have." Was actually, "Oh come on, Suguru. You know I wouldn't go that far."

The plan for this episode was to kick off near a flower shop, but fate had other ideas. It concluded right at a flower shop instead.

"The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it." This was actually supposed to reference the ancient King of Curses but I couldn't figure how to do it, so I genuinely said fuck it.

"Don't fucking psychoanalyze me," was supposed to be, "So you knew yet you did nothing?" This is to imply your avoidance of confrontations. Maybe foreshadowing too.

Originally, you were going to apologize to Gojo for everything but then, as an author, I realized that the cursed trio are a bunch of teenagers put in the riskiest of situations with severe vulnerability problems and communication issues, hence the silence and the avoidance of eye contact.

This switch to Yaga as the main POV in this episode kind of plays with that idea that teachers are always watching their students, even if it doesn't seem like it. It's not just about observing; it's about whether they decide to take action or simply stay on the sidelines.

Ngl, certain characters, in canon, feel rather two-dimensional. Maybe, it's because I haven't really read the manga or finished the anime --- but like yeah. So I like exploring them, giving them depth and stuff like that. Like Yaga, Yu, Ieiri, and others.

Suguru narrowly escaped critical injury thanks to your swift response, an imperceptible wall formed by hundreds of tiny chains that perpetually encircled him, akin to a vigilant guardian.

Though invisible to Suguru's eyes, these chains remained visible to Gojo's discerning gaze. In truth, this visibility was the sole reason Gojo took the actions he did.

Suguru's lack of injuries was all thanks to a secret chain connected to his soul. It channeled cursed energy into him, helping him heal swiftly. The finer details of this ability were still a bit hazy, but that's a tale for another day.

The elders, were deep into an emergency meeting, no doubt wrestling with the current crisis. Or so, one would think.

"And so, the pissing match began once again." After this line, I genuinely had no idea what to write next. So I chose to involve the one character that just feels right to write about.

Kento's call came in the wake of an extremely close call, and he needed something to anchor him back to reality before diving back into his mission. The soothing sound of your voice, coupled with Yu's presence, worked like a balm on his nerves. (But you thought it was because he was worried about you. Which, technically, is true but that's beside the point.)

Episode: Borderline --- "...Keep it vague, just like your pointless existence." Goes hand in hand with, "...Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try." Was that your own self-deprecating thoughts, or ???

The reason why Suguru's hands hovered was because he was afraid of causing more damage.

It wasn't his energy that made his soul quiver; it was the fear of losing you.

I wanted to have a little fun so I made that what you eat the most is what your cursed energy either feels like or tastes like. 🤷

As for Gojo, his Infinity vanished the moment he saw you crash through the flower shop window. The sheer shock and horror of the scene caused him to unintentionally drop it.

Typically, Gojo's soul is shielded from your sight due to the nature of his Infinity. However, when he released it, you were able to catch a glimpse of his presence, marked by a curious warp-like effect.

"It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul." Energy vampire much?

The fact that you only ever truly feel safe is when you're in Yu's dorm room surrounded by his plants.

You intentionally left some minor wounds untreated, a small act of consideration for Ieiri. It would give her something to do when she arrived, and you secretly longed to be in her presence again.

"It was his voice, yet not his own." Is a reference to Suguru's creeping depression as well as an indirect reference to Kenjaku.

"...Are you out of your fucking mind?" Is Suguru referencing Gojo's technique and how it fries the brain to a crisp.

"Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist." and "...it's tendrils aiming for his right side" is a reference.

Note how, even though Gojo always keeps his Infinity on (or almost always) along with the fact that he's a Special Grade sorcerer, you still felt the need to protect his back from the minor curse.

The North Star symbolizes guidance, direction, stability and purpose. And no matter what, it stays in the same place no matter what goes around it.

It's not a glass ceiling, but rather a glass wall. Which can be interpreted in multiple manners. It can be the wall between you and Gojo, despite being able to see each other so clearly, a wall remains. The shattering of it representing your agreement in acknowledging the connection.

Or, it's the slow shattering of the Curses Trio's reality as we near Spring.

Or, it's foreshadowing.

Blue roses signify the unattainable. It's like a longing for something to exist, but it forever eludes your grasp. This is a direct reference to the Jujutsu Kaisen Season 1 Opening where Gojo carries around a bouquet of blue roses.

In this episode, the clash of "Pearlescent vs. Iridescent" gave way to a harmonious fusion of Pearlescent AND Iridescent. This is to reference that an emotional connection has been officially acknowledged. Not made but acknowledged.

"The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for..." His being is near-perfect in your eyes because if he had just never been born with Six-Eyes, you'd love his blissful ignorance

Although Suguru might be considered your closest friend (in Gojo's mind at least), it was Gojo you instinctively reached out to. Ironic considering how long you've been trying to emotionally avoid him.

If my memory serves me right, the traditional act of sharing a bottle of sake signifies a union among individuals, and for this particular chapter, it felt more like the forging of a soulful connection, a merging of three souls into one. You could even liken it to a form of matrimony.

The consistent theme remained that open communication was a challenge among the three of you. You rarely delved into meaningful discussions, each holding back in your own way. (Communication may be key, but understanding is the door.)

The heart beats are a reference to another Episode, but I don't remember which. Oops.

Gojo didn't throw the bottle at Suguru because he was genuinely tired of fighting with the bestie --- he just wanted you and Suguru back.

Yaga being the silent observer says A LOT. You just don't realize it.

What was the meeting about?

Were you talking to your continually fracturing mind or someone else?

And what exactly did you mean when you said you saw scenes in the shattered glass?

Drop a comment!

Feel free to donate me a🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

Alien Blues

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Enter Sandman

**Slight implication of SA (does not involve any of the characters, relates to a mission. Very, very brief mention like a single line), bad priests go night night**

...

I'll start with a simple cute fact: Each person at Jujutsu High possessed their own unique coffee mug or teacup. In the past, the school had standard uniformed cups, but everything changed during a spontaneous group outing, and it was all because of you. One morning, the boys witnessed you sipping coffee from a cup shaped like a light blue ghost cradling a tiny pumpkin in its spectral hands. Naturally, they all wanted their own versions, albeit in teacup form.

Suguru, in his typical fashion, stuck with a conventional choice. His teacup was an elegant white porcelain piece with a delicate handle, but a hidden treasure lay within its depths - two koi fish gracefully circling a water lily.

Surprisingly, even Gojo opted for a relatively straightforward option. His choice was a matte black teacup adorned with a golden rim, the sole flourish being a meticulously painted golden dragon on the porcelain. (It even came with a matching gold spoon!)

When the three of you flaunted your new cups, Haibara decided he wanted one too, promptly organizing the group to acquire cups for the remaining members.

Ieiri's selection was an enigma, a glass coffee mug adorned with intricate chemical bonds that you still can't fathom how she stumbled upon. Apparently, it was buried amidst a sea of generic mugs on a store shelf.

Kento, while initially indifferent to the entire endeavor, hastily grabbed a pumpkin-themed mug at the last moment to match yours.

Haibara, on the other hand, opted for a mug inspired by cows, where the utters of the cow formed the legs of the mug. It was absurdly whimsical, and he cherished it dearly. He proudly presented it to you and Gojo, provoking laughter from both of you, while Suguru and Kento exchanged knowing glances that silently conveyed "these fools." Meanwhile, Ieiri continued to text someone on her phone, seemingly unfazed by the mug madness.

(Side Note: You once purchased Yaga a teacup that strikingly resembled a purple flower, mainly for amusement. However, when you presented it to him, the man stood in silence. Expecting a scolding, you were taken aback when something unexpected occurred — you would never reveal this to the others, but you were certain you saw tears welling up in the older man's eyes. He thanked you before ruffling your hair and dismissing you with a resounding voice. Since that day, it remains the sole vessel from which he sips his tea. As for Ijichi, you wanted to gift him something, but he insisted he was content with the school's standard mugs.)

(Add-On: Regarding drink preferences: Suguru and Gojo both enjoy tea. Gojo takes his with four sugars, while Suguru prefers just one. Ieiri has a penchant for black coffee with a solitary sugar; sweetness isn't her preference. Kento's choice is coffee with milk and two sugars. Haibara's taste isn't exactly aligned with either option. He leans towards cold coffee with milk, three sugars, and a hint of caramel flavor.)

Initially, you had no specific plans for the day. Your mood was rather subdued, and throughout all your classes with the rest of the second years, you barely uttered a word. While this wasn't a drastic departure from your usual demeanor, the fact that you didn't react to Gojo or Suguru's inquiries raised concerns. Consequently, you found yourself seated at your desk, gazing into the distance while Yaga lectured about the intricacies of Curse history or something.

(Side Note: Since there were only four students in Second Year, there were only four desks needed. Ieiri, Suguru, and Gojos sat in the front-row, forcing your desk to be behind them. It, oftentimes, led to you feeling a bit left out. So, your dear boys, thoughtfully left a substantial gap between their desks and even inched their own tables closer to yours. It might have seemed somewhat awkward in terms of seating arrangements, but it suited them well.)

(Add-On: Ieiri's desk had been shifted nearer to the window, a change she didn't particularly favor, especially now that the sun's rays streamed directly above her. At least in the past, she had a modicum of shade to shield her from the sunlight.)

(Add-On: All your names are etched into the wooden surface of your desk. Despite this, Yaga insisted that all of you meticulously clean the classroom from floor to ceiling. However, he never instructed you to sand away the names carved into the wood.)

Once class concluded, just as the three of you were preparing to exit the room, Yaga requested that you remain behind. It was evident that he wished to discuss your peculiar behavior, but even then, you sensed that he was already aware of what was amiss.

"Tsukumo informed me about today's...significance," the older man began, uncertain of how to proceed, his fingers scratching at the back of his neck.

Narrowing your gaze at him, a touch of confusion laced your words, "I thought you already knew...?"

Shaking his head, he clarified, "Yes and no. I was aware of the... incident, but not its specific date..."

How could he proceed? Comforting wasn't his forte, and emotions weren't his strong suit. So, he opted for the next best approach.

"Here, kid. Yu suggested you might appreciate this, considering how much time you spend in his dorm ro—wait, no, that came out wrong—" You hardly paid attention to his fumbling words as your focus locked onto the verdant plushie clutched in his hands. A succulent larger than your own head. A warmth swelled within your chest, prompting a small smile to grace your lips, accompanied by a soft sigh.

You paused for a moment, your gratitude finding its voice, "Thank you, sir... I truly love it." You gently grasped the plushie, inadvertently squeezing it, relishing its comforting softness. A thought flitted through your mind about where you could possibly find room for it amidst the myriad plushies that already adorned your room.

"You're a good person, and a remarkably skilled sorcerer... though what you did is unforgivable, you're making remarkable progress. Keep that momentum going, okay?"

Nodding in agreement, you kept your gaze lowered, fixed on the green fibers of the plushie.

"Okay." He lingered in his gaze upon you for a moment before ushering you toward the door with a firm grip on your shoulders. Gojo's absence was conspicuous, but Suguru had evidently been waiting, straightening himself away from the wall he'd been leaning on.

"Look after them well, Geto," Suguru remarked, his tone carrying a sense of assurance as he reached for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder alongside his own. "Always."

Yaga's voice reached you just as you were about to exit, "Oh! And take this. It belonged to a... friend of mine. But she won't be needing it anymore. So, uh, take it." He handed you a baby blue parasol, it's design hidden for now. With that gesture, he shut the door firmly, effectively closing off their presence.

The pair found themselves in a mild state of bewilderment, though Suguru's straightforward question cut through the confusion, "What did he want?" Taking a deep breath, you made a slight expression, your steps synchronized as you made your way towards your dorm room. "He just wanted to give me this," you revealed the succulent with a subtle flourish, prompting a faint smile to appear on Suguru's lips.

"Cute," was all he said.

In due time, you arrived at your dorm room, and while you began to organize your belongings, Suguru lingered at the doorframe, observing you intently.

"Come with me," you turned towards him, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. "To where?"

You never needed to question why. After all, why ask why when your intention was clear?

An enigmatic glint flickered within his eyes, his head leaning casually against the wooden frame, a perpetually lazy smile gracing his lips, "I want you to meet my mother."

Suguru rarely delved into details about his family, but during those nights when sleep eluded you both and he sought solace in your room, he would recount stories from his childhood as you lay on your bed, gazing at the ceiling. He especially liked to speak of his mother, emphasizing her kindness.

Gazing back at the succulent resting comfortably against your pillow, a brief contemplation led you to agree to accompany him. Your consent widened his smile, and before long, the two of you were on route to the school's front gates.

You decided to bring the baby blue parasol along, providing a respite from the sun's glare, especially in the absence of Gojo's sunglasses. Unfurling the parasol, you ensured Suguru walked in the shade you provided. Your arm found its place around his, the one unoccupied, as he carried his bag over his shoulder. He emitted a soft hum as you leaned into his forest-green attire. Unbeknownst to you, the parasol's circular paper surface bore the elegant forms of two cranes, playfully dancing around each other.

"Where's our moron?" you asked, eliciting a laugh from Suguru. "He had some matters to attend to, which means you're stuck with me for the remainder of the day."

Upon hearing this, you couldn't help but snort with amusement as you rested your head against his clothed bicep.

As you leaned into Suguru's presence, a sense of warmth and comfort enveloped you. The two of you began walking at a leisurely pace, the soft rustling of the blue parasol echoing the gentle rhythm of your steps.

"So, meeting your mother?" you asked, breaking the tranquil silence between you.

Suguru's expression remained calm, but a hint of nostalgia danced in his eyes. "Yeah, just figured it was time."

You couldn't help but smile at his words, knowing how much this invitation meant. "I'm honored that you'd want me to meet her, has Gojo met her yet?"

His gaze turned briefly to you, the corners of his lips lifting just a fraction. "Only from a far, when he walks me home...It's not every day I bring someone home."

You smirked, "I'll make sure not to talk about our underground drug business." He squeezed your arm in retaliation to your lame joke.

Eventually, the two of you arrived at Suguru's residence. Upon stepping inside, your eyes were drawn to the photographs adorning the walls — Suguru as a baby cradled in his father's arms, snapshots chronicling his growth over the years, and one depicting him bowing to a deer near a shrine. The charming display prompted giggles to escape you, and for a brief moment, Suguru silently observed you. Soon enough, he called out to his mother, informing her of his presence and the guest he had brought along. Her cheerful response echoed through the house as her footsteps hurried to the entrance.

(Side Note: As you began to remove your shoes, Suguru surprised you by producing a pair of slippers in your favorite color. It seemed he had thought ahead and prepared them in anticipation of your visit.)

Tiny time skip of an hour

As anticipated, Suguru's mother exhibited the same kindness that seemed to radiate from Suguru himself. Her charm was equally captivating. With a formidable personality, she openly pressed for every detail about her son's activities, all done in a playful manner. The camaraderie between the two of you flourished, culminating in a united front against Suguru, indulging in light-hearted teasing. The poor boy couldn't catch a break, especially when you shared some of your treasured pictures, including one where he was comically butting heads with Gojo, both sporting hilariously bewildered expressions.

Meanwhile, Suguru sat on the couch, legs comfortably spread manspreading only looks good on this asshole noone else so dont fucking do it, sipping his tea, and observing the scene with a contented smile adorning his lips. In the periphery of your vision, you noticed a subtle shift in the color of his soul, transitioning from a deep forest green to a lighter, more vibrant shade.

Occasionally, he half-heartedly protested the playful bullying from his two of favorite people, sporting a minor pout as he lightly glared at both of you.

(Side Note: As it turned out, Suguru conversed quite frequently about you and Gojo, though he seldom mentioned the others. Regardless, his mother expressed a genuine desire to invite both you and Gojo for dinner at some point.)

(Add-On: Suguru inherited his gift of sweet-talking from his mother, but he inherited his serenity from his father, as his mother revealed. She admitted that her relationship with Suguru's father embodied the classic trope of opposites attracting. She was the spirited, high-energy one, while her husband was the grounded, down-to-earth type of man.)

The transition is a blur, but you eventually found yourselves in Suguru's bedroom. This decision was prompted by his mother, who explained that she wished to tidy up the lower floor further, so she sent the two of you upstairs, assigning Suguru the task of entertaining you. And, like the dutiful son he was, he complied.

His room was markedly different from the one at school. This space retained remnants of the boy he used to be before being scouted for Jujutsu High. Action figures were scattered here and there, a few comic books neatly arranged, and yet the room maintained a sense of order. However, it didn't appear unused.

And then, you noticed it. Surprisingly enough, when it came to Suguru, he had a fondness for pictures documenting the trio's adventures. They adorned every inch of the room, some captured within frames, others resting on his desk, and one intriguingly placed on the bed.

Had he been contemplating it recently?

(Side Note: The photograph depicted the group gathered beneath a sprawling tree in the midst of a vast expanse of verdant fields. In the image, you and Suguru reclined against the sturdy trunk, while Gojo's body sprawled across both your laps - a snapshot capturing an instance of Gojo and Suguru engaged in their trademark banter. On your left, Haibara playfully formed bunny ears behind your head, an infectious grin lighting up his features. Positioned on Suguru's right, Ieiri rested her head against his shoulder, a mischievous smirk as she extended a raised middle finger toward the camera.)

(Add-On: It was Kento who wielded the camera, evidenced by the faint glimpse of his finger's tip visible in the bottom right corner of the frame.)

(Add-On: Ijichi was engrossed in studying for the upcoming exam to join the hangout.)

"What did you do that Yuki Tsukumo had to vouch for you?" The question instantly transported you back to that night, months ago, when you had confided a fraction of the truth to Kento after returning from an exhausting mission. In the background, Gojo had been surreptitiously listening before ushering you to rest alongside him and Suguru.

You collapsed onto the bed, your gaze fixated on the ceiling. "You were supposed to be asleep, you know?"

Suguru scoffed as he settled into his desk chair, rolling it closer to your legs and nudging your feet gently. "As if I could sleep that easily with... Just tell me."

You brought the picture close to your face, immersing yourself in memories of a bygone era - a time when you stood by Tsukumo's right and she occupied the blonde's motorcycle on her left. All three of you wore broad grins as you faced the camera. It was a snapshot your father had captured.

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Gojo. He wouldn't... understand," you asserted.

Suguru quirked a well-groomed brow, his curiosity piqued. "But I would?"

You nodded, a hint of recognition in your eyes. "You have to admit... you and I are strikingly similar. Just with minor differences."

He remained silent because deep down, he knew you were right.

At this juncture, the two of you were playfully engaged in a game of footsies as you continued with your story. "I wasn't brought to Japan to become a sorcerer; I was brought here to be killed."

The game ceased abruptly.

You could sense his penetrating gaze, but you chose to ignore it.

"Last year, I kind of... snapped. Tsukumo and I were following a lead; there were reports of some minor curses killing children in a small town back in my home country. She thought it was time to let me take the lead on the case. Everything was going fine until... she wasn't supposed to be there." Even now, the memory churned up a rage within you like no other.

"Who is she?" Suguru spoke cautiously, keeping his voice steady and just above a whisper, wary of triggering any negative reaction from you.

"My sister. She, like me, was also learning the ropes. But we tried to keep her away from this world because she was so young. If only she'd listen to— No. She was just a child. What else could we have expected? It wasn't her fault." Suguru watched with a mix of confusion and surprise as you seemed to ramble to yourself, glimpsing for a moment the cracks in your being.

He may not possess your ability to peer into the depths of people's souls, but he could recognize when someone was on the verge of shattering.

"Tell me what happened," he tried to guide you back to the narrative, and it worked.

A somber cast enveloped your features, and you twisted your mouth in disgust. "There was no curse. At least, not in the way I initially assumed." The contours of your soul seemed to morph into jagged and sharp edges as you gazed upward. Your tone hovered on the brink of something that sent shivers down Suguru's spine, as he had never before witnessed you so... sardonic. "The priest of the town's church harbored this vile habit. He just couldn't keep his hands off people, particularly children. And the town... ah, they shielded him. They all knew, but did they intervene? Not at all. After all, if it's perpetrated by a man of God, how grave could it truly be?"

Straightening your posture, you perched on the edge of the bed, your shoulders hunched as you fixed a hard, glaring gaze upon your lap.

"Something in me... snapped when I realized that the curses I was exorcising were his victims." An eerie silence enveloped the room, as neither of you dared to make a sound, even though you could still hear Suguru's mother bustling about downstairs.

For the first time since the conversation began, you lifted your gaze. Suguru's eyes widened as they met the haunting, unhinged expression in your eyes.

And just as swiftly, your expression shifted into one of deep contemplation.

"...I don't know." "You don't know?" "No. One moment, they're there. And the next, all that remains are the empty shells of what they once were. Tsukumo told me I absorbed their souls, which, when I think about it, makes sense."

Perhaps it was your eyes or the way you discussed the matter so casually. Either way, Suguru found himself needing to take a deep breath before posing his next question.

"But then... what happened to your sister?"

Your expression darkened as haunting memories surged forth. You would never forget the sight of her once-vibrant red aura giving way to desaturation, sections of her outline fracturing as her soul gradually faded into oblivion.

"I didn't mean to. I swear, I didn't."

Objectively speaking, the sight of Suguru's chair bouncing back as he nearly leaped from his seat to console you was rather amusing. (He even rolled the chair closer to you. Lmaooo)

What wasn't amusing was the way he yearned to offer comfort but hesitated, unsure if you'd welcome his touch - after all this time, he still respected your boundaries. What a dear.

You chose to cradle his hand between your own, your index finger tracing the lines of his palm.

(Side Note: Ieiri was the first person to realize that the most effective way to soothe your nerves was by allowing you to play with her hands. The discovery unfolded after a grueling mission when she was tending to your injuries. Truthfully, you were somewhat her guinea pig when it came to sutures, but that's beside the point. Sensing your heightened anxiety, she offered a reassuring squeeze of your hand. To her surprise and amusement, you responded by turning her hand palm-up and tracing the lines on her palm. Ieiri shared this little revelation in secret with Gojo, who subsequently confided in Kento, who then passed it on to Suguru.)

"She just wanted to see me in action, and instead, I quite literally drained the soul from her."

Unintentionally, your nail pressed a bit too hard, drawing a drop of blood from his hand as you unconsciously squeezed it. "I didn't know what else to do... I was so desperate to fix her that I inadvertently cursed her."

...

(A/N): I think the reason why I was so late with the previous episode was because I didn't know Tsukumo's character well. The whole time I was just struggling to portray her, and even now, I'm worried I didn't portray her accurately. She's lighthearted and has her own morals and what not, but I don't know. I wish she had more screen time so that I can do it right.

With any luck, I'll be sharing one more post later this week. As the final week of August approaches, you'll be able to spot me at Ghost's concert in Florida. The flight back is so gonna kill me 🤪

Song Inspo: Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens

Song Inspo: Roommates - Malcolm Todd

Originally:

Both Suguru and Gojo were supposed to be on the other side of the classroom door, eavesdropping. I changed it so that this episode can be more Suguru-focused. I will be doing the same for Gojo in a future episode, so don't worry.

The parasol had been planned to be baby blue with pink cherry blossoms, but I opted for a more symbolic meaning.

Initially, I had associated Kento with a preference for black coffee, but upon reflection, I acknowledged that he already copes with life's hardships, making a touch of sweetness an indulgence well deserved.

"As if I could sleep that easily with... Just tell me." Is actually, "As if I could sleep that easily without you or Satoru...Just tell me."

Ijichi was meant to be the one who stumbled upon your penchant for finding solace in playing with people's hands. Originally, it was intended as an awkward memory, but I decided to revise it to create more intimate moments with Ieiri.

Similar to Suguru and Gojo, Kento prefers to synchronize with you, albeit in more understated manners. Whether viewed as a platonic bond or romantic inclination, the ultimate truth is that he holds a profound concern for you.

I don't remember what episode I wrote this in but remember that bracelet Gojo found under his pillow? I described it to have an eternity knot ---this isn't entirely accurate. It is actually a little something called a Musubi-kiri --- Once it has been tied tightly, this style of knot is particularly challenging to untie. Musubi-kiri is used for wishing for something to happen just once and not again. Like wishing for a long-lasting matrimony, where love knows no end. The choice you made, directing your gaze between the succulent and Suguru, ultimately opting for Suguru, holds a significant role in terms of its symbolism and its foreshadowing of certain outcomes --- hehehe.

Sharing a parasol often signifies a heightened level of concern and regard for the other person. Moreover, the parasol's design bears profound significance. It's believed that a crane's lifespan reaches a remarkable 1000 years, and a pair of cranes heralds a joyous marriage — a sentiment also tied to the koi fish. Similarly, I had Gojo in mind when I opted for the baby blue hue as the primary color.

My selection of a water lily was deliberate, driven by its symbolic representation of hope, while the inclusion of the purple flower conveys sentiments of respect and achievement.

The picture was taken mid-August during Episodes: Living Waters and Desert Oasis.

This episode involves major elements from previous episodes.

You hold a deep fondness for Yaga, and every Friday, you anticipate your knitting lessons with him eagerly. He's akin to a father figure in your life, and he regards you with the same warmth, seeing you as his own flesh and blood child.

Suguru's father had been at work the entire day, preventing him from meeting you. However, when he eventually returned home, Mama Geto eagerly regaled him with tales about you, much to Suguru's chagrin. She couldn't stop gushing about you the whole time!

Any soul consumed by intense emotions often displayed a fuzzy aura. The more enduring the emotion, the greater the likelihood of the aura's fragmentation. In essence, fixating on a single emotion could gradually erode one's sense of self.

This episode was originally intended to be more extensive, but I felt that leaving it with a hint of suspense might be intriguing. While I believe I've provided ample answers to some of your queries, please find contentment in that for the time being.

Sometime around mid-September, Utahime found herself assisting the faculty at her school by tidying up their offices. In one of these offices, a file labeled "October 16 - Poisoning of 2005" caught her eye.

At first, she hadn't given it much attention, but her curiosity got the best of her. Unable to resist, she opened the file and was met with a distressing sight. The scene depicted bodies heaped upon bodies, their countenances reminiscent of Edvard Munch's artwork "The Scream," yet darker and more grotesque.

Amidst a collection of newspaper clippings and official reports, a photograph caught her eye - an image of you alongside a girl who appeared to be no more than eleven years old.

She couldn't quite decipher why, but an inexplicable urge compelled her to reach out to Suguru and share her discovery.

If, at any juncture, you were to lose control once more, Yaga had been instructed to eliminate you on the spot.

Why did you want to fix her? Why not save her?

When you said 'we,' were you referring to yourself and Tsukumo, or was it someone else?

What do you mean you cursed your own sister? What precisely did you do? And where is she now?

And if Suguru was already aware, why did he choose to keep this secret from you all this time?

Drop a comment!

Feel free to donate me a 🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

thinking about geto who spared one woman from the village cause the girls begged him to since she was the one that secretly took care of them

now he lives in a constant state of controversy where he preaches an anti-non-sorcerer world during the day but makes love to one during the night

he might even wake up at dawn, with you peacefully sleeping, and think how easily would be to kill you, should he slit your throat? drown you in the bathtub? choke you to death?

his hand crawl to your neck, so delicate, so breakable… he could just tell mimiko and nanako it was an accident, you were attacked by someone, by another monkey

but then you take his hand from your throat and kiss his palm, unaware of the murderous thoughts in his head and he gives in to your love, laying back in bed and letting you pepper his body with sweet innocent kisses

The ‘Theseus’ Thesis

Parallels between the Fantastic Beasts series and William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream

*Spoilers for both of the things mentioned above, you have been warned*

Okay, so I went to see Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore the other day and I couldn’t help noticing a few similarities between the series so far and A Midsummer Night’s Dream (AMND) so I’m going to talk about them here because J.K. Rowling doesn’t really like it when people claim that her stuff is based on other stuff, insisting that she made it all up in her head (see this article about how Diagon Alley is NOT based on The Shambles in York) even though (as Mark Twain puts it) 

“There is no such thing as a new idea. It is impossible. We simply take a lot of old ideas and put them into a sort of mental kaleidoscope. We give them a turn and they make new and curious combinations.”

Anyway, onto the good stuff:

Keep reading

#thisiswhydukeissuchanicon

so i’m trying to write duke and i don’t think i’m writing him right. how would you describe his personality because with don’t trust fanon lmfaooo

(this was only supposed to be a paragraph or two i swear to god)

1. first things first, duke is a hardcore gryffindor. don’t let the yellow color scheme mislead you, okay. and while most of the time he’s depicted in fanon as “omg this family is crazy and i’m the only sane one,” it’s actually pretty much the opposite? if anything, i think the other batkids would be like “oh finally, someone who can match our level of chaotic energy. HEY DUKE WANNA BUNGEE JUMP OFF WAYNE TOWER—” and an hour later they’d all be in the batcave getting lectured by bruce for leading poor sweet innocent duke astray when really he was already planning on doing that this weekend.

listen, this is the kid who once jumped off a bridge to escape police. this is the dude who decided to fight criminals while they’re still eating their wheaties at 6am in a bright yellow suit. and while duke seems to be the best at following bruce’s command at the moment due to having been trained by him most recently compared to the others and is still figuring out how to be a hero, i’m positive that if bruce weren’t here to guide him, duke would be running around gotham taking down criminals anyway. i mean, he literally did do that with the “we are robin” kids. plus there was the whole thing when he was like ten years old and decided “i am going to singlehandedly stop the riddler in my light up sketchers and pikachu backpack. try and stop me.” 

duke is headstrong and has a strong drive toward heroism. he’s an extremely enthusiastic and passionate person in general, and i try to capture a little of that when i write him, even with mundane things like trying to beat his siblings to the last cupcake. 

2. another thing i noticed is that duke swears like a sailor in comics? seriously, this boy could give jason a run for his money with how many “@#!%” speech bubbles there are. i don’t know if this is just a trend the writers added in the comics i’ve read of him, or if it’s a genuine trait throughout every comic he’s in, but that’s something to make note of when writing dialogue for duke. after all, he did grow up in the narrows, so it makes sense that he’d use a lot of swearing and slang in his everyday vernacular.

3. i would also make a point of noting that duke is fairly young compared to the rest of the batfamily, being the second youngest after damian. duke is still a teenager in high school, and he acts like it. he’s got homework and friends and is eager to make a difference in gotham, trying to juggle everything and make it all work somehow. he’s stubborn and doesn’t give up easily, so it’s important to write him as someone who is trying to save the world while also struggling with finding time to study for his next math test. he's human. he doesn’t get to dedicate all of his time to fighting crime like cass or jason might be able to, since duke is still a mostly normal teenager with teenager problems.

4. and don’t forget that unlike the other batkids, duke still has two living parents. sure, they’re jokerized and might not ever be the same again, but they’re alive and that’s what holds him back from letting himself get as close to the waynes as he wants to. duke won’t be calling bruce “dad” anytime soon, and i think he’d have some internal struggle over stuff like holidays and birthdays with the waynes, remembering what his parents are missing out on and wondering if joining the wayne family is a betrayal to them. duke is very conflicted over this, even if he doesn’t say it directly. stuff like ducking out of movie night early or feeling a bittersweet pang during thanksgiving dinner makes sense for someone in his situation. 

(i usually ignore that aspect in my fics because i want duke to just be adopted and part of the family already, but not everyone does that, and that’s perfectly fine.)

5. honestly, duke is such a caring individual and we as a fandom need more of him being a shoulder for people to lean on because he’s?? so soft?? duke can be so sympathetic and rational when it comes to emotional problems. it seems like duke internalizes every bit of advice he gets from the people around him and uses it to inspire others and help them through their own problems. as tough and hotheaded as duke can sometimes be, he really is good when it comes to emotions.

6. duke is a smartass. he will 100% use sarcasm against any and every authority figure he meets, usually just for the hell of it. 

7. he’s very frank in general, usually the first to be like “okay full disclosure, we’re about to die right now. that sucks. anyway—” in a situation. he’s honest and tends to be upfront about his fears/anxieties, usually for comic relief, but i think it still counts.

8. okay i have to add that duke is also kind of a punk? he and jason have a lot in common because of this: they both grew up in one of gotham’s worse areas (jay in crime alley and duke in the narrows) and they’re both highkey deliquents. duke has no problem getting into fights or talking back to authority figures, and it’s gotten him in hot water on more than one occasion. it’s why he kept getting moved around the foster system before bruce took him in because no one wanted to keep him.

9. he’s also gotten so close with the other batkids and we love to see it!! duke calls cass “sis” and treats damian like the annoying little brother he never had and i adore every second of it. we haven’t gotten a lot of interactions between duke and the others aside from training and stuff, but he and jason have the whole “punk kid who got adopted by batman and is baffled by how rich people live” going for them, so they can bond over that. and duke is a thinker like tim, so they can hang out and do puzzles or play chess or whatever it is that smart people do. (and duke and steph are BESTIES i don’t care what anyone says.)

10. most of all, duke is still learning how the whole hero thing works. he’s young and he’s trying his best, but he also makes mistakes. he will be impulsive and screw up, and he’ll try and merge the lessons batman’s taught him and that his parents taught him and that other heroes teach him until it all makes sense in his own mind. duke isn’t experienced like dick or even damian, so he’s going to be lagging behind for a while until he grows until the role he’s made for himself.

other miscellaneous details to include: 

- duke is dating izzy, who used to be part of the “we are robin” gang with him - he used to live at the manor and now lives with his cousin jay, but honestly i just have him living at the manor in everything i write because i like it better that way - he can control shadows and light now! what a king! - duke secretly writes poetry and is good at creative writing in general  - this:

- duke is super smart?? he figured out that agent 37 was dick grayson without even trying?? i’m so proud of him - his biological father is this supervillain called gnomon so now duke has got four parents: his mom, his dad, his supervillain dad, and bruce (plus selina if you count her as the batkids’ stepmom, which i do) - jason calls him “narrows” and i love that

- and, lastly, the most important panel in the history of comics:

Does anyone have that post of all the bat kids getting interviewed about why Batman’s mask shows half his face? And they all have different reasons like “so little kids won’t be afraid of him”, or “so he can drink hot chocolate on patrol”, and then one of them says “so the cops know he’s white”?

If you could send me that post or link it here I would be eternally grateful.