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wombywoo · 3 days

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Sorry if you already answered this- but I am DYING to know more about Quinns prophetic visions. What does it mean that he puts himself in ‘near-death’ situations to have one? Could you give an example? Also do they last long/ put him in a trance or is it quick. If they last long I could imagine the first time it happened around Vincent him being totally freaked out and trying to make sure he was ok (maybe he was worried Quinn was having a stroke/seizure)

sorry it's taken me so long to respond I'm sick today 😩😭

I do have a very long answer and it's under the cut! (tw for mentions of self-harm, injury, drugs, domestic violence, non con) this is so heavy I'm sorry please read at your own discretion.

So--the first time Quinn's visions appeared was in the aftermath of the bus accident that nearly took his life. He'd been impaled in the shoulder with a metal pole, lost a lot of blood, and ended up coding when he got to the hospital. While in recovery, he experienced an intense seizure-like episode, which the hospital staff assumed was a side effect of his fever spiking dangerously high. But no--turns out his 'vision' and the delirious ramblings he tried to warn everyone about came true a week later (it was a major catastrophic event; I will touch on this later at some point..)

Hereafter, a series of injuries and illnesses in his preteen years enabled him to grasp the basics: if he gets personally close to death, a vision is granted (and it's usually a portent of something supernatural and horrible).

There were several....attempts to test the limits of this, as well as a dangerous theory: did he only experience the visions because the events he'd seen were meant to happen, or did the events happen because he saw them?

Interesting, interesting....

When Quinn experiences a vision, the effects can vary. Usually, he does exhibit something similar to a seizure--there's violent thrashing, sometimes screaming, or other times he drops to the floor, seemingly paralyzed. An outsider might assume he was dead if they didn't know better.

The length of an episode also varies: they can be as little as a couple of seconds to up to thirty minutes (at least that's the longest he's had so far)

Another thing to note is--his visions always take place from the point of view of someone else. Whatever event he's witnessing is shown to him from behind the eyes of a person present at the scene. As such, if the POV dies, Quinn reacts accordingly (thrashing, screaming, etc)

He also has other clairvoyant qualities, in that he appears to have an uncanny sense of luck in the field. What makes vampires so notorious to combat is their enhanced speed (when aiming, it's less a matter of where they're standing now as opposed to where they will be in a flash of a second) Quinn has a keen ability to prejudge where the target will be, and is almost always successful in taking an accurate shot.

After certain...events in his teen years--Quinn swore to put his prophecies behind him, and for a long time, he did his best to suppress them. It was only serving in the military and thus being thrown into danger regularly that forced him to confront the benefits of his 'gift' once more. A harrowing field injury left him a vision on the eve of a big mission: one that would fail from the things he saw. Quinn attempted to relay this 'newly discovered intel' to a higher-up, but it was ignored, and the subsequent failure played out just as he'd seen it.

Despite knowing very little about whether he'd ever be able to drastically change the future, if at all, Quinn took it upon himself to try to use the visions as a guide for future endeavors. With that came a sense of personal responsibility: if he had a chance to see a glimpse into a probable future, this could potentially save the lives of his squadmates. But he couldn't very well be exposing himself to danger regularly in order to induce a vision, could he. So he developed...other methods.

Drugs became his 'easiest' option, and that was still a huge gamble. A hit strong enough to run the risk of OD usually was enough to give him a vision. And acquiring them was simple enough--his ex bf Marc was a willing supplier. But using them in the field was not really a choice Quinn was comfortable with, especially when his CO found out and was ready to discharge him on the spot (they...worked something out)

His other options were more...creative, but usually required a partner. When his best mate Danny was first asked to drown him in the bathtub of the safe house they were holed up in, it was met with, ah...a lot of resistance. Quinn had attempted this on his own once, and yeah....that was nearly fatal. It took a lot of convincing, but eventually Quinn did persuade his friend to hold his head under the water long enough for him to stop thrashing, and then resuscitate him only to watch him writhe on the floor in apparent agony. Not at all recommended!!! good friends do not do this to their bros ❌ Danny was extremely traumatized and fucked up over the whole thing, and Quinn swore he'd never ask him to do it again (spoiler: he did)

The dangerous self-harm options just seemed to escalate though. It didn't help that Quinn's (psychotic) boyfriend was the biggest enabler of all. Marc was a violent lover, both physically and mentally. Yet Quinn didn't mind in the beginning; his mental state is not the greatest (can you tell??) so he often used Marc as an outlet to punish himself :'D There was an...incident with choking that went a little too far, and after witnessing Quinn's episode first-hand, Marc eventually figured out the basics as well. And as a result...well. Let's just say Marc appreciated hearing details of future events (for investments and whatnot) and was not at all inclined to entreat his boyfriend's safety above all else. This led to....various incidents of forced suffocation (most of which were not consensual) god this is really horrible, I'm sorry... They do break up, finally, but there's still a sense that Marc isn't done with him yet...

Eventually, Quinn does reach a healthier mindset with the help of his therapist and his commanding officer (and Fig!). At current, he hasn't had an episode since his last field assignment and injury, and hasn't induced one in over a year.

His developing relationship with Vincent comes with the eventual explanation of...all that, as well as a new catch-22--now that Quinn has someone he cares about more than anyone else, the 'personal responsibility' starts to stir up once more. Especially with a recently learned development--taking Vincent's venom-neutralizing pills is enough to induce a vision.

This can definitely complicate things....

And in the back of his mind, that notion still remains: is he the one causing these things to happen, by witnessing them in the first place??

Interesting, indeed....

So there you have it! It's not everything, and I'm still brainstorming a few of the details...but this is most of what I've thought up thus far~

Sorry I rambled when all you asked was a simple question :'D

#asks #quinncent #a deeper look into quinn's backstory #trauma is real viewer discretion is advised #I have a few more questions to answer but I'm working with half a brain rn so it may have to wait ;_;#I sure hope this is cohesive and not a pile of meaningless nonsense :'D

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seiya-starsniper · 24 hours

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Dreamling Week Day 5 & 6 (Soulmates/Monochromatic)

This one is more of an idea for now, versus a full on fic, but when I saw the prompts for Days 5 and 6, my brain ran away with this concept. I honestly don't know if I'll ever get around to writing it myself, so if someone else wants to give a go, be my guest 😄

---------------

Soulmate AU where Hob sees color for the first time when he meets Dream in 1389.

In this AU, due to their initially short lifespans, nearly all humans believe that you can only have One Soulmate. When you meet your soulmate, you'll immediately know, because that is when your vision goes from black and white to seeing in color.

Immortal beings however, such as the Endless, along with gods, the fae, etc., know that a "soulmate" is just a person with whom you can form a deep and life changing bond with. Most beings have multiple soul bonds, sometimes simultaneously, though only the first one grants you the power to see color, while any subsequent soul bond grants its own gift, depending on the nature of the relationship.

Because humans have such short lifespans at first, most humans don’t even meet someone with whom they can form a soul bond with before they die. There is also religious rhetoric that claims soulmates must be romantic in nature, or at least married.

When Death takes Dream to the White Horse, Dream senses his potential connection with Hob immediately. He is disinterested in forming a bond at first (his last human soul bond was Nada, and that left a poor taste in his mouth for obvious reasons), but then he hears Hob brag about never dying, and suddenly Dream is interested in his new potential soul bond.

Hob, at this point in time, has been told his entire life that his soulmate would be his future wife, so imagine his utter SHOCK when Dream appears. At first, he thinks he's going to Hell for having a man as a soulmate, but then he stops caring as they talk more, and then he's hopelessly charmed. They agree to meet in 100 years as normal, but then Dream leaves without giving Hob his name, and Hob's too drunk to notice he just let his soulmate get away.

Hob spends the next few years looking for Dream, mourning that he was too drunk to really have a properly conversation with his soulmate, but then 100 years go by, and now Hob thinks he's soulmates with the Devil so 1489 goes something like this:

“Why can I see color? Am I really soulmates with the devil?” “I am no devil.” “Then what are you? And why aren't I long dead?” “You said you wanted to live forever. So you shall. And I am interested.” “In me?” “In your experience.” “My…experience?” *lightbulb moment* “You want to know what it's like.”

Their meetings go much the same way, with Hob thinking for a bit that in order for him to continue being immortal, he has to prove himself "worthy" of his soul bond with Dream, whose name he still doesn't know. He meets his other soul bonds (Peggy, Eleanor, etc) over those centuries, and he loves each and every one of them, but Dream, the one who gave him colors, will always be the one that means the most to him. He realizes that maybe he no longer needs to prove himself to his first soul bond, maybe they can have something more than just a conversation one every 100 years.

Dream naturally, gets upset at the very notion (he's still reeling from how poorly everything with Nada ended) and so he storms out in 1889 as usual. When he gets capture by Burgess in 1916, Dream is not only cut off from The Dreaming, but from Hob as well, and so Hob loses the ability to see color. Hob, not knowing what's happened to Dream, thinks that somehow, Dream has died, even though soulmate gifts don't leave upon death. His fears are confirmed in 1989 when Dream doesn't show up for their meeting. Hob mourns, but he can't forget Dream, so when the White Horse is shuttered, he buys out The New Inn anyways, so that there's always some sort of memorial for Dream near the place where they first met.

Then 2022 rolls around and Dream walks into The New Inn and BOOM, Hob can see colors again. Cue a very romantic reunion 💖

#dreamling #hob x morpheus #dream x hob #dreamling week #dreamling week 2024 #seiya writes #seiya writes dreamling #truly have no idea if I'll ever get around to this but I do love the idea of it

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where-the-water-flows · 20 hours

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hey no wait. hang on, wait. wenjing is like, explicitly the secret sword, right, the one basically no one knew about, it's part of the reason the court is like 'mmk seems legit' when fang doubing is like ~I am totally for real his disciple~ because he knows about the sword at all

but li xiangyi/lianhua is clearly like. practiced at using the sword, which does not move like basically...any other weapon. that man has spent a fuck lot of time training to and straight up developing how to use a sword that is basically the most unswordlike sword to ever sword. that sword is like a slap bracelet with bladed edges that can also cut through....anything? nearly anything?? it does not move or react like your standard mostly rigid bar of folded metal sword, is the gist here.

which brings me to two, semi-related, points:

when saintess rocks up to steal di feisheng from the zombie cave and also is like 'I'm going to kill you uh actually lol nope fuck that I'm outtie peace bitches', is that literally the first time she's even got a hint that li xiangyi/lianhua has a sword that is basically nigh impossible to block because it can straight up bend around obstacles? (obstacles such as, say, anyone else's sword) if yes, no fucking wonder she's like mmmm I see no thank you I need to go wash my di feisheng's hair, so busy, catch you later because like. how the fuck do you even deal with that. a guy who should have been horribly and messily dead literally a decade ago rocks up and is like 'I lived bitch! also surprise, I have a sword made of glowing Go-Fuck-Yourself metal', like, I too would fucking split! you would only be able to find me by the cartoon dust cloud left in my wake. RIP to everyone else in the jianghu but saintess is making the objectively correct choice here, which is wild because, like. saintess.

how many people's last fucking moment was seeing throat cutter, probably glowing and covered in their blood? because like. Li xiangyi clearly used it! enough to be good at using it. enough to know that it glows blue when there's blood on it, even if he apparently was just like sometimes swords just glow for reasons I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. so. if no one outside of sigu sect high command knows that wenjing exists*, that means everyone else who ever saw that sword -- which there has to have been people, given that li xiangyi was out there uhhh using it -- those people who saw it presumably also uh. died. in a pretty confirmed kinda way. likely via....that sword. throat cutter** indeed

*and not even all of the inner sigu sect command folks knew about li xiangyi having it! they're pretty explicit that five people total know about the sword, which is the four court heads, and then presumably either qiao wanmian or xiao zijin, but not both of them (which, lmao, what the hell were sigu sect internal politics for real), and even that's if we assume shan gudao is not being included in the count because he's "dead"

**yes I know it's a reference to a friendship/relationship you'd cut your throat for per @murderedbyhomework's recent great meta, but also, like. it's still a cut throat, y'know? words can have multiple meanings, and also this is mostly a pun on the name. the rest of the post stands as is tho.

#mysterious lotus casebook #li xiangyi #look I know it's a staple of the genre and etc #but also. li xiangyi is a straight up ruthless little fucker and I just feel like sometimes that gets a little glossed over #man has a secret second sword. absolutely insane.#(also sidebar I feel like there's somehting about how di feisheng's dao is Notably Fucking Weird #and li xiangyi's sword is. Also Notably Fucking Weird.#but everyone knows that di feisheng's sword is Fucking Weird #or at least. you do if you're looking. he's not hiding that.#he's built his whole fighting style around how Fucking Weird his sword is #and only a few people know that li xiangyi also has a Weird Sword and that sword is otherwise explicitly secret #like idk. the parallels or whatever.)#(also haha di feisheng literally the only person in the world for like. a decade.#who's faced wenjing and lived to talk about it afterwards)

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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 day

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A/n: I'm so sorry this took me a while 😩. I hope you feel better! @karolinda007-blog

I have Modecai for you since you asked for him and picked Viktor

•Mordecai Heller•

Everyone had bad days, Mordecai knew that having a handful of his own but you, just looking at you he knew something was wrong. He was never good at these things...comforting people but you just looked so hopeless not to mention his own feelings for you so he just had to help you.

Taking a step forward he cleared out his throat as he looked you over. He was silent for a moment once he sat down next to you. His heart hammering in his chest, Mordecai hated seeing you upset. "Are you....no of course you're not." He muttered as he reached out to you.

Letting out a small sniffle, you let your head rest against his shoulder. He wasn't about to complain, not with you anyways, never with you. So instead he held you. Did his best to comfort you in his own ways, he won't speak on the matter but he will always be by your side to pick up the pieces.

Though once Mordecai finds out while you're really upset he will take care of the problem because no one will get away with hurting you.

•Viktor Vasko•

Viktor held his fair share of nightmares, he knew he had PTSD. You just can't escape surviving a war without coming home with a few mental scars. You would often help him with his own nightmares but now it was his turn to help you.

It was a particular job that went south, he heard about it through Rocky. How you nearly died, that the man trying to kill you died on top of you. He did not blame you for being traumatized, how could you not after what you saw.

Doing your best to stifle your sobs, you brought your knees to your chest. Viktors soft voice broke through your thoughts as you curled into his embrace.

"It is all right...I am here for you." Viktor muttered as he rubbed your back. "You can be scared, do not worry."

"I cannot remove the image from my mind." You muttered.

"You went through so much...just let it out." He whispered still soothing you.

Letting your eyes closed, you let out another sniffle as you nuzzled your face into his chest as you finally calmed yourself down. "Thank you."

"You do not need to thank me."

#blurbs #blurb #viktor vasko #viktor vasko x reader #viktor x reader #viktor lackadaisy #lackadaisy #lackadaisy viktor #lackadaisy viktor vasko #mordecai #mordecai heller #mordecai heller x reader #mordecai x reader #mordecai lackadaisy #lackadaisy mordecai #lackadaisy mordecai heller

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mcuamerica · 2 days

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The Shadowsinger: Twenty-Three

Warnings: Healing wounds, mentions of parental abuse, mentions of death, ACOTAR series spoilers.

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: As an official part of the IC, and an Oristian Illyrian warrior, you heal with your mate as you fight battles for your Court.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Graphics are my own. If you use, please give credit!

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Your leg and your wing were the two things that still bothered you. With the infection that took root in your calf, it was harder to heal. Meaning that you now limped just a little, and Madja said it may never fully heal. Your wing, as well, was still healing. The top tendon that went about halfway down your wing snapped. Madja did everything she could to piece it back together, but it was too thin. You could fly short distances. But not in the cold and certainly not with any other weight on you. You worked with Madja, Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel to get the strength back up, but nothing was really working. Not yet. You still had faith your wing would get better and you could fly in the Illyrian ranks one day.

You decided with Azriel that you wanted to wait to offer him food, to accept the mating bond. The flash of hurt in his eyes had you scrabbling to explain you wanted everything to be back to normal, to not be at war. You wanted Feyre here.

You didn’t want a large ceremony. But just a small one with your family. And then Az and you would go up to the mountain cabin and spend however long you needed to officially mate.

So you waited. As much as you wanted to accept the bond and mount him almost every minute of the day, you wanted to have a proper future. You didn’t want to be mated in the middle of a war. The prospect of losing him when the bond was accepted… you didn’t dwell on it too long.

So you waited. And fought alongside your family when the time came. The worst of it was the night Azriel returned with Elain, Feyre, and some human girl. Your heart almost shattered at the look of his wings. How badly he was hurt. Was this what it was like for him when you returned from the Blood Rite?

You sat by his bedside, forcing him down and keeping him from going off to spy or fight or whatever he wanted to do. Because he needed to rest and heal.

You stood on the battlefield as Illyrians died, as Nesta saved Cassian. As Amren unleashed herself onto the army and brought victory to you all. You watched by Azriel’s side as Rhys died, and was then brought back to life when Feyre pleaded for his life.

You spent the next Solstice with them all, watching as Feyre’s sister, Nesta, withdrew into herself more and more each day. You became somewhat friendly with her, while Azriel took to helping Elain. Not nearly as close as she was with Amren, though.

You stayed with Mor and Feyre as the boys had their snowball fight, Azriel coming out the victor (again). You were his reward that night.

Once Solstice had ended, you started planning the mating ceremony. Or dinner, as you called it. You planned to make Azriel’s favorite meal with Nuala and Cerridwen.

Azriel and you also started looking for a new place to live. Feyre and Rhys offered to let you stay in the River House once it was built, but you decided you wanted your own space. You didn’t want the House of Wind or the Town Home. You wanted your home. One you could build with Azriel. Neither of you have ever truly had the ability to call a place your home. It was always owned by others.

So you bought a decent sized home on the River, not too far from the River House, and began making it just that. Your home.

After getting a bed, the dining room was the main thing you focused on. You wanted everything to be perfect because this was where Azriel and you would officially accept the bond. You could technically stay in the house for your mating, but the cabin was better cause there was no one to hear you. And if you knew anything from the past year, it would be that Azriel and you would disturb your neighbors. Maybe even Feyre and Rhys down the street.

Your shadows were still gone. And you knew in your gut you wouldn’t get them back. Not unless something terrible happened.

When you came out of the Rite, you were a different female. You were an Oristian, which many of the Illyrian males wanted to reject, but they couldn’t argue with what was final. Above all else, you weren’t alone anymore. You think the moment you chose to defend your brother, almost dying because of it, was the moment your shadows knew you didn’t need them anymore. You had always been fiercely loyal to your chosen families, but never to your blood.

When you exited that cave many many years ago, you were lonely and desperate. You were lost and didn’t know where to turn, so you found comfort in the darkness and the shadows were the ones to be there for you through everything. But you didn’t need them now. You had your family, chosen and blood (though, it’s still just Varyn that you trusted). And you were finally happy with your life. Your family. You didn’t need the shadows for comfort.

You didn’t think the shadows came to Azriel for the same reason they came to you. Yours was in need of survival while his was a triumph in darkness. A way for him to make the best of the terrible situation he was in. Once you completed the Rite, proved to yourself that you could survive without anyone’s help, the shadows had done their job. They had made sure you were safe. And it was now on you alone to protect yourself.

You couldn’t winnow yet, but you tried every day with your Siphon. It never worked. So you relied on your mate and the rest of your family.

You went to group meetings with the priestesses, helping them through their trauma. And sharing your own. You even saw Gywn at a few of them, and you were glad to see her somewhat happy. Healing. Slowly.

And then came the day you were dreading. Before the mating dinner you wanted to go to Valorworth. First to invite Varyn and Wessian to join the dinner, but also to see your blood family. To announce to the new camp Lord that you would be coming once a week to check on the females’ progress in training. You would be visiting each camp and giving them the next month, to get their acts together before you and Cassian would return to fix it. And to quell the murmurs of rebellion.

You took Azriel’s hand, smiling up at him as he winnowed you both to Valorworth. The rest of the Inner Circle was at the River House. This was something you would do with your mate. And if you needed comfort, a drink, or a night out afterwards, they would be there for you.

You watched from the hill just south of the camp. The same smells from Windhaven were present. But it was different. The air was slightly thinner, higher up in the mountains. Though you weren’t scared. You wore your Illyrian tattoos now, going across your chest, shoulders, and mid back. You were an Oristian. One of the top warriors of Illyria. You were to be a commander of the first female unit in centuries.

You wore your Siphon proudly on your right hand, while the pure black dagger hung on your waist. Twin to Azriel’s Truth Teller. And you had two swords across your back. You took up archery, Rhys and Feyre being the ones to teach you. Rhys taught you how to maneuver the Illyrian bow while Feyre taught you proper aim. You were an Oristian. You would not be afraid of your father and elder brothers. Not when you were higher rank than them. Not when you went through so much to come to this moment.

You greeted the camp Lord, the son of the one that you remember. Marc, the male that your father wanted you to marry 150 years ago. His father died in the final battle against Hybern, and he took the title of camp Lord.

He was surprisingly respectful. Maybe it was your new title. But you bet it was your towering male mate that was scowling at every single person that looked at you the wrong way. Az was itching to accept the bond, and his need to protect you grew only more when you approached your father’s cabin and told him you would be back. He didn’t want to leave you alone with him, but he knew that if something went wrong, he would be there in an instant. And he sent a few shadows with you to be his eyes and ears.

“Father.” You said once you crossed the threshold. He survived the battle and so did your brothers. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or upset. But chose not to dwell on it for too long. Your older brothers, Corin and Caden, were in the small sitting room as well, monitoring your every move. Scanning you over to see the steel on you. And your Siphon.

“(Y/N)… I see you’re still alive.” He said, standing up. “I’ve missed you. Why haven’t you visited?” He asked, a knowing smirk on his lips. You wouldn’t play into his games.

“You will be seeing much more of me now.”

“Is that so?” He asked and smirked. “Come to infiltrate our camp with your females?”

“No, I’ve come to teach the females how to be the warriors they want to be. If they choose.” You said and glanced around.

“Those your shadows? It’s a poor excuse for a Shadowsinger.” He motioned to Azriel’s shadows that swirled around your feet.

“I don’t need my shadows anymore. I’ve relieved them on their duty.” You said and looked down as Az’s shadows stayed close to you in a protecting manner. One swept up and brushed against the back of your neck in comfort. “These are my mate’s.” You said.

Your father scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m surprised the Spymaster would waste his time on you.”

“Unlike you, Rechard, most males like a female who can protect herself.” You said. “This is not why I’m here. I’m here to inform you that if I so much as hear about you helping these so-called rebels, you better believe I won’t hesitate to kill you. Or maybe I’ll let my mate do it for me, he certainly knows how to take his time with males that have hurt females.”

You turned around, walking straight out the door. They didn’t stop you.

A/N: only one more chapter left! (This format might be off, I’m posting from my phone)

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Tagging:

@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickishadow139 @complete-randomness2 @lilah-asteria @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @6v6babycheese@secretsthathauntus @krowiathemythologynerd @fightmedraco @he6rtshaker @kayla-rose15 @aelincaddel @mfri06 @hauntedstudentobservationus@brieflyclassymortal @read-write-sleep-startover @krowiathemythologynerd @ialwayscryatendings@chxosangxl @tanyaherondale @randombibitch @plants-w0rld @etsukomoonbeam @riorgail @herondale-lightworm @panther-girl-124

#acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar spoilers #the shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #katie writes

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runabout-river · 3 days

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Detailed thoughts on a possible outcome of Yuta possessing Gojo's body

I made an extremely short version of these thoughts after chapter 261 dropped. It's about a set of events that might lead to Gojo being (temporarily) revived. Here is the detailed version of it.

1) Kenjaku's CT revives a dead body

We already knew this because of him being able to possess Geto's body after Gojo had killed him. Gojo was also dead as we've seen in the flashback of chapter 261 when Yuta used Kenjaku's body hopping technique.

What we don't know is if this revival is a permanent state or one that has to be re-done every once in a while or one that has to be done constantly. We also don't know if the revival of the body is permanently connected to the possession of the body. They could be separate and for this theory I'll treat them as such.

2) Kenjaku's CT treats body and soul as the same entity

This was remarked upon by Kenjaku in his conversation with Mahito after Gojo was sealed. More precisely: Mahito said that Kenjaku's CT might function differently than his in regards to the separation of body and soul. Mahito's clearly separates them and Kenjaku's doesn't. That was why Geto's hand reacted to Gojo calling him out.

3) Yuta's copy technique only lasts 5 minutes

This was explicitly talked about in the chapter with 3 options given on what happen after those 5 minutes are over. I'm only going to focus on the first and second option because this entire theory hinges on Yuta's CT ending before his new body is killed.

4) Yuta's CT stops working and he dies, leaving his body behind

When this happens without the revival of Gojo's body also being affected, then we have a situation on our hand that Kenjaku probably saw coming when he thought about possessing Toji plus more.

In a Q&A Gege once said that Kenjaku was afraid that Toji's HR might suppress him. What would that mean on someone who had already died though? We saw that in Shibuya when Granny Ogami did just that: Revive Toji's body and have her grandson's consciousness be suppressed in return.

In that case and in a potential case where Kenjaku did that, the end result would be the same: Toji gets straight up revived (with the difference being that in one case he only has a body and in the other he has both, and in one case the revival is dependent on an external sorcerer and in the other it's dependent on an internal supressed one)

With Kenjaku's CT used to possess Gojo, it's a mix of both dynamics.

5) Because Kenjaku's CT treats body and soul the same, the leftover body has Gojo's soul in it

This would also work if there was no soul but the result would be different. Because Toji killed Ogami while suppressing the CE of his host, the CT that revived him went haywire and he became a (nearly) mindless killing machine. This or sth similar might happen to Gojo's body.

When the soul=body concept of Kenjaku's CT sticks though, then not only will Gojo's body stay alive after Yuta passes on, his mind will also come back after his soul rises up from the depth of darkness (the airport) he is in right now -> Gojo is revived

Additional thoughts on this theory:

Like I said, this depends on two assumptions: the revival of the body is in some form separate from the possession, and Yuta dies of his CT ending when he needed it to re-activate the possession.

Even if this revival happens, I don't think it will be permanent. Either it will be short, or Gojo straight up gets killed again or this revival will "start" now but will only be revealed 20+ chapters after the merger happened. Seeing how Gege structures information and action reveals in his story, the last one might be the case.

I don't see Gojo having a role in the Sukuna fight anymore. That part is over for him, he lost. But I also don't see the airport as his final end because it's, in my opinion, too positive an end and that in the middle of the tense fighting and world destroying apocalypse that is right before us.

Having Gojo be (temporarily) revived would've Gege eat all the cakes in the world. This guy already does whatever he wants but I think even he isn't completely immune to what the (Japanese) fans like and cry about especially not when Shonen Jump is at his back about killing off all the beloved characters. A temporary and possibly fucked up revival can give the readers and himself all the satisfaction in the world as long as he has a specific role for Gojo to fulfil.

(Edit: please don't put spoilers in the tags when the new chapter gets leaked.)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro #meta #theories #kenjaku #yuta okkotsu #jjk kenjaku #jjk satoru #ryomen sukuna

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aroacenterprise · 2 days

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Random opinion that literally no one asked for but I feel like sharing anyways

The AOS trio of movies flow into the mcspirk relationship really well. Let me explain.

Star Trek: Mckirk - this is the Mckirk centric movie. Kirk and Bones meet and become really close and are essentially each other's only friend. Bones sneaks Kirk on to the Enterprise because he sees that Kirk is sad. Bones is extremely upset when Kirk gets marooned. And just overall it's very centered around their dynamic more so than spones or spirk.

Star Trek into darkness: Spirk - this is the Spirk centric movie. Literally just everything about it from Spock and the volcano to kirks death and Spock's reaction to said death. Honestly not much else to say about this one it's super obvious if you just watch the film. Still some Mckirk tho with them being on the one planet together and also Bones' reaction to Kirks death.

Star Trek beyond: Spones - this is the Spones centric movie. Spock and Bones practically spend this entire movie together. They're stranded together when Bones treats Spock and then they're together later when piloting the ship. Similar to into darkness it's just super obvious if you watch the film. Both still do show obvious care for Kirk especially when he nearly dies (again)

This all leads to the end of beyond with the shot of the three of them together which is very mcspirk of them

Anyways that's just something I think about a lot.

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arshifiesta · 1 day

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Welcome to Arshi Fiesta!

Phati-sari's aur Sanka Devis, hum tumka forgetyay naahi gaye hain! Hum toh ee lobhbirds ko surprisewa deve ke khatir tumka bulawat hai! Samjheev? Ab ee ka baat padho, e khoon bhari taang kaa introductionwa likh ke gayi hai dekho to jara👀

Theme Introduction: Colours of Love!

If you didn't know already, "Satrangi Re" is a song from the movie Dil Se which is based on the concept of seven stages of love depicted in Arabic Literature. Each stage is denoted by a color so let's look at Arshi's story through these colours!

1. Black for Attraction (hub)

The song starts with a hauntingly energetic tune (spooky!) and we weave through a maze of passages till we finally meet our protagonists. Quite like how Arshi started out as strangers who didn't look like a compatible match initially until all the pieces of puzzles fell into its place.

The beautiful lyrics captures the essence of their dhak-dhaks, their initial attraction that exists from their very first meet. They've hated each other, loved each other but have never ever stopped being attracted to one another. As if a magical magnetic force has kept bringing them together over and over again (guess who? Devi Maiyya of course!) 🖤

2. Violet for Infatuation (uns)

Uff, Infatuation inke jaisa toh aur kisi couple me nahi hai, right? The subtle yet lingering touches, intense gaze, impulsive kiss games and everything about their chemistry is absolutely electrifying! No one does infatuation like them 💜

3. Blue for Love (ishq)

Love love love. Love took so long to blossom between them, like a long drawn out fire. Was it blazing or were there only a few embers alight? One could barely tell. Love started from care first. But they could only care once they hurt each other, right? Oh and hurt they did, they hurt each other really bad. But, isn't it only the people you care about who could hurt you? 💙

4. Green for Trust (akidat)

Trust is tricky. Trust takes longer than love. Because you can only trust someone blindly when you love them. From the chain of broken pearls to the soft and patient unwinding of fairy lights... somewhere between that Arshi started trusting each other. And it strengthened when Arnav stepped up to dance with Khushi, strengthened again when despite all evidence against Khushi and Shyam, Arnav decided to confess his love to her... as if it was the last thing he had left to do. And later when he came to know about Garima's past, he trusted Khushi again. Because things aren't always as black and white as they look. Sometimes they're green 😉💚

5. Yellow for Worship (ibaadat)

What is love or partnership without worship? From strangers to enemies to lovers, at each stage Arnav has worshipped Khushi. Taken care of her in ways that she needed, in ways that people around her couldn't. Tangled feelings and arms entwined in one another's. A shower of gifts, a series of intoxicated confessions. Arnav may be an atheist but if he has worshipped someone apart from his family, that's Khushi. Khushi is as good as any religion to him.

6. Red for Madness (junoon)

The first thing when you think of Red is probably danger or hell-fire. And that's right too because the fierce fire they have isn't like any other. It burns and scathes. It leaves scars. It is a mad love. They hurt and insult each other, they shout at each other. Their egos are too big for one another. And when they're done hurting, they love each other just as fiercely too. ❤️

As Aakash ji has nicely put it, "Khushi ji thodi pagal hai na?". Arey Aakash ji, aapke bhai bhi thodi kam pagal hai? (Don't tell him I said that 🫢)

7. White for Death (maut)

Death is not always about dying. Well sometimes it is... like the time when Khushi nearly dies at the cliff and Arnav fin-fucking-ally kisses her but only for CPR 😒. Or when they both pretend to die on stage as star crossed lovers Heer & Ranjha.

But death is also about other things like the death of hierarchy between them when Khushi was no longer Arnav's employee. The end of anger between them during holi after days of fooling each other with farq nahi padta post contract marriage. The end of difficulties in their path (almost) when they were about to get married again, for reals. The death of distance between them, not just physically but emotionally too, when they spend the night at the hut after running away from the goons. Like they literally met at a grave (dargah) for their second encounter, no? 😌🤍

Accha toh tum padh li ho kaa? Haan, toh e par se tumka kachu toh banave ka pade, aage tumko khoon bhari taang hi samjhayegi okayyy?

Ab jao, thoda paani piyo aur humka bhi pila diyo haiin... Bahutay garmi hai aaj🔥 Hello hi bye bye!

Never mind sasuma, you guys! We're here to celebrate toh let's wish the couple first! A very very Happy 13th Anniversary to these two AND every single one of you who has loved them, adored and cherished them at some point!

Tagging the people who liked the introductory post in comments below because it wasn't clear if y'all wanted to be tagged or not oof! :((

Index to prompts here

In case you missed the first post!

P.S. Search #moodboard or #word prompt on this blog to easily find all the prompts :)

#ipk 13th anniversary fiesta #ipkknd #arshi #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #13 years of ipkknd #and it begins!#who all are here?#colours of love #stages of love #arshifiesta

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cruyuu · 1 day

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hii! that mini-rant of yours abt sukuita was beautiful. i'm just curious about ur thoughts regarding them and what made you like them so much?? (and it's good that you moved off twitter, it's a nasty place)

Hello anon!

I'll start by agreeing with you– that app really is annoying. I was thinking of moving off it because some ppl's interpretations of characters in jjk just started pissing me off but when I got those same ppl screaming in my qrts over and over how I can like this insane, disgusting ship (while they enjoyed twisted shit as well and get a clap on the back for it, I get judged for it like come on) I knew it was time.

As for what made me like them so much– even if they are problematic and kinda ???– well, strap in.

(I'm kinda angry there aren't more analyses of them but... oh well. Only #real fans of jjk know that Sukuna secretly is a fan of Yuuji and that he doesn't want to kill him because he loves really cares about his progress as a sorcerer apparently???)

Anyways, more under the cut.

First off, if someone told me I'll lowkey be obsessed with them, I wouldn't believe them. Honestly, I thought their situation was worrying, kinda weird yet hilarious right up until the Shibuya Incident arc where I saw the true extent of Sukuna's power and thought that hey, Yuuji kept ignoring this monster, this absolute disaster of a man and he was fine? He suffered absolutely no mental or physical repercussions before that? What? This apocalypse that's deep inside him nearly fucking giggled "Don't look up at me like that brat :3" when Yuuji died and went to his domain yet he nearly decapitated Jugo and the two teens merely because they held their heads a bit high.

Hell, Yuuji also threatens him yet he– tongue-in-cheek– brushes that off with "You look like you want to kill me". The anime really points out the weird amusement because you can hear him speak and Sukuna not only sounds amused, a bit done but he also sounds like he's teasing him (and is reveling in it)

He bargains with Yuuji calmly, offers him a vow to resurrect him only if he accepts to let him take control for a minute. You would think he'd ask for more, be greedy, be like "fuck this" and torture Yuuji until he accepts but instead he indulges him.

Yet...

Yuuji clearly got the special treatment. Sukuna could've easily showed off his power, tortured him, made him intently aware that he's not supposed to fuck around... yet it was "I fixed ur arm, where my hug at". Maybe I was overthinking it back then, when I first picked up jjk, but this struck such a deep cord within me that I couldn't function properly for days because I kept thinking of Sukuna– the epitome of evil– giggling like a school girl, allowing Yuuji to be "menacing" and disrespectful, and just dismiss all of that while if it was anyone else in Yuuji's shoes, they'd be mangled, ripped apart, tortured until death and laughed over (on repeat).

I love the 'two souls stuck in one body' idea. Like Yuuji has the epitome of the word evil inside of him while he's literally a sunshine. I could totally see Sukuna trying to break Yuuji from the inside out– torture him, threaten him, kill him over and over again, all just to pass the time, test out how it feels to be alive again– and I was kinda surprised canon never went with that option. Instead Yuuji just ignored him while Sukuna did... well... quite little. I still find it hilarious how it's canon that Sukuna yaps while Yuuji just ignores him. Yuuji's got guts, really.

Now this would be just that. They have an interesting dynamic, problematic as fuck but so very interesting and fascinating to explore both in the fluffy or the grim way but considering where we are currently– It isn't just that. It got both worse and better (regarding both my decent into madness– this ship– and them in canon).

I'll separate what more I want to talk about into sections because it's easier that way.

The Beginning & The End

The story quite literally opens with them. Yuuji being kicked into an unknown world (aka the inciting incident) is the result of him finding Sukuna's finger before Megumi can even find it. If Yuuji never stumbled upon that finger, the fight with the curse at that school wouldn't happen. He'd never get to meet Megumi, nor have to swallow Sukuna's finger. So without them, jjk wouldn't exist.

Chapter 1 is titled "Ryoumen Sukuna" and Yuuji and his Occult Club speculate that a lingering spirit is haunting the premises of the school. Their theory is swiftly debunked (Ticks lol), but they didn't know that their theory proved to be kinda correct.

And yes, the explanation being ticks is awfully fitting. Ticks are parasites– they latch on and slowly bury themselves inside of a human (or animal) and if you spot them too late, you aren't able to take them out and need to visit a hospital because these little annoyances are quite deadly. Sukuna's finger was around that school for an unknown time, since Yuuji found him, attracting curses which preyed on people without anyone even noticing. Plus parasites often need a host to survive– Yuuji being his vessel and having to swallow fingers to completely resurrect him.

What follows right after that is a bit meta and again, foreshadowing the future events:

1. Yuuji and his Occult Club being dismissed for spreading rumors — Yuuji couldn't see curses before he saw death for the first time.

2. Yuuji being a part of Track-And-Field team and not the Occult club — How Yuuji wasn't born as a sorcerer. He's just your average high schooler– someone quite boring.

3. The club president of the Track-And-Field interrupts them to say he rewrote it because he wants to make use of Yuuji's extraordinary abilities for the track team. Yuuji refuses, so the coach challenges him to a game that Yuuji wins with ease. – He's being warned off traveling that road that main characters go through, telling Yuuji to stick to a normal life. He's no sorcerer, after all. But here's the thing— Yuuji, despite not being born a sorcerer, is still special. He has incredible strength and lightning speed so even if he's not as cool as sorcerers, not someone special, he still kind of is. After all, Yuuji will go on to survive hosting The King of Curses, successfully prevent him from taking control and proceed to keep him on a leash.

And also:

He's not afraid as normal people in his shoes would be. Hell, he literally made the fabled King of Curses look like a joke. Do I need to remind you that Megumi couldn't do that despite being a sorcerer? Despite not being a sorcerer, despite not being cut out for this, he still likes it and wants to be a part of it.

Also, regarding it's growing on me– did you know that ticks' body grows as they feed on blood, but they only burrow their heads into the host and grow on them by laying eggs within?

He survived hosting Sukuna, promptly told him to fuck off from his body and got enlisted into Jujutsu High despite not being a sorcerer. Plus he got a gift– being able to use cursed energy due to Sukuna. Again, he is specialz. (And yes! Specialz by King Gnu is literally a sukuita anthem! The song is a twisted version of a ballad– a love letter from a beast that enjoys seeing the agony on his lovers' face rather than a smile. Who enjoys making him lose his mind and nudges him to accept the catastrophe. To embrace the ugly and lose the good. Like: You are my special; we are special; get lost in me; i love you baby?? It literally played over Yuuji's mental breakdown– and Sukuna told him to admire the mess he made– like what more proof do you need??!?!)

If Yuuji never swallowed Sukuna's finger, he never would've had cursed energy. He never would've became a jujutsu sorcerer. He never would've unleashed hell upon earth, watched his friends die and that promise he made to his grandfather would be left for helping regular people out in any way and not exterminating curses. He would've been way happier and way less traumatized but then this story wouldn't exist. 😔

But, I digress.

Yuuji's our main character and Sukuna's the final boss of the story. Despite the narrative promptly ignoring and continuously ridiculing Yuuji, stating he's nothing (a cog in the machine), it's all just so he would prove himself. Fight his way up. Embrace change. All writers know it. And besides, even if he's powerless and weak, well that matters little— considering Sukuna would go on to kill the strongest jujutsu sorcerer yet somehow still not deal with a weakling like him. The same weakling who keeps growing and maturing, being molded and shaped and therefore rightfully needs to be put down before he becomes a threat. I mean Uraume did comment to Sukuna in 257 that Yuuji is like an empty husk actively retaining some elements of him, a fact which should make killing him be Sukuna's top priority because it implies Yuuji— even if weak— could grow to become Sukuna's equal and therefore could kill him.

Still, Sukuna doesn't care lol. He doesn't consider him a threat, calls him boring, yet has a nearly two-page inner monologue just because he learned a fucking reversed curse technique. Lol

It goes like:

you're boring. you're literally insignificant that even killing you is a waste of time.

wait he learned reversed cursed technique within a month?

guess it's time to have some fun with him and then kill him

what the fuck is this irritating feeling

Sukuna pouts. He pouts and spaces out while wondering about connections and what people are to him. Like... ok? That's kinda ga Even Yuuji is stunned why he didn't continue fighting him but instead just started making faces like he's sad. Also, worthy of note is that he had the perfect opportunity to slam his fist through him because he was distracted. Sukuna's usually highly aware of his surroundings, very much in the moment when fighting an opponent, yet Yuuji does a new thing and now Sukuna is stopping the fight to contemplate about unnecessary things instead of you know, being normal and continuing the fight? It's so funny to me. (Also the way he's awfully handsty didn't escape my notice.)

Anyways, to go back and bring your attention to what I stated at the beginning: Everything started with them. Rightfully so, everything will end with them. There's something so beautiful about Yuuji being incomparable to Sukuna in terms of power, being mocked and ridiculed by the story, not special at all and not improving much even if he is improving. It would make his final battle with Sukuna so satisfying that I cannot really put it into words and I will be there no matter what!

Can you imagine that? The poetry of it all– the King of Curses defeated by a nobody. It's brilliant, really. Part of their charm, part of what makes them addicting.

Perfect Opposites

Another thing that makes sukuita delicious is the rather blatant contrast between them. They're total opposites in every sense of the word. The story continiously highlights it.

The story tries to belittle Yuuji, make him as insignificant to the overall plot as it can, make us– the audience– convinced and fearful that Yuuji will not bring about any change. It convinced most of the audience to root for characters equipped with the qualities an mc should have (like Gojo, like Yuta, Megumi, name it), to look away from the pawn that is Yuuji.

Most people, after all, don't like weak, not cool characters. Usually, what shonen does is that it will continually boost the MC's power until the protagonist could practically wipe the floor with the antagonist. As is the case in jjk, most ppl expected that Gojo vs Sukuna would leave Sukuna weakened, on the verge of dying, yet that wasn't the case. Instead Gojo got cut in half which had driven the entire fandom to start hating Gege as an author. To start crying about Sukuna being OP, that the story's gone to shit, all because the side character they rooted for didn't end the main antagonist of the series. How come someone as strong as Gojo dies yet someone who's weak– like Yuuji– lives?

You see, I love when shonen inverts tropes. I love that Gege hyped Gojo up, gave him a perfect backstory which already highlights and forshadows why he would lose, why he's not the strongest, etc. I also love the fact that Yuta went on and, instead of facing Sukuna by himself, chose to wear Gojo like a coat. I love how the MC is just standing on the sidelines instead of actively dealing with the threat.

That same MC who wishes to save his friend, who fights for others, who's as selfless as ever. Who's not a strong sorcerer but a strong person. Who keeps on witnessing how the strong ones are plucked like flies and possibly is wondering how the hell anyone's– let alone him– is going to defeat the threat in front of him.

The entire jujutsu society didn't sit down and speculate about Sukuna's weaknesses and strengths. Didn't even sit down to formulate a plan, to fight together, because it's all about proving your worth as the strongest, right? It's all about cool techniques, showing off, etc.

Most people saw it like this– well if Sukuna is strong then just have strong characters fight him. There you go. You have the strongest jujutsu sorcerer against the strongest used-to-be jujutsu sorcerer. If there's anyone on the same level as Sukuna, it has to be someone exactly like him. A monster. A mirror.

Most people don't see the point of Yuuji being the executioner because the narrative convinced them throwing a puny Yuuji against someone like Sukuna will realistically get him killed. For someone who should be dead by all accounts, Yuuji keeps persisting and keeps pissing Sukuna off– the same man who still doesn't kill him because of well... reasons. He's too insignifact to even crush, by Sukuna's standards. Yet he takes pride in torturing him– killing off and taking away people that Yuuji loves– has inner monologues about him, thinks back on him too much for no reason while fighting different people, almost as if he's fascinated, as if he cares, as if he never met someone like him.

If you'd ask the majority of the fandom who'd get to kill Sukuna: Gojo seemed like a plausable option, at first. Yuta too. Hell, Megumi even. After all, they're continiously put in focus, placed as special and branded as 'has potential'. Then Gojo dies, Megumi's taken over and Yuta is possibly on his way to death (Note: jjk is an ongoing story so... yeah. This is written before Chapter 262 for anyone who's reading this in the future.)

These people tend to forget one simple thing– that opposites attract. That you don't fight fire with fire, but with water. You don't come at the King of Curses with techniques using cursed energy– instead you come at him with raw strength alone. You don't battle to prove your place as a sorcerer– you battle to save a friend, to save people from a massacre.

If you battle to prove your ideal– then you best come at your opponent with something they don't know about. They know about being strong. They know about being a monster. They know about everything selfish because they embody it. Show them a different view.

Be selfless.

There's no one more tailored for the role than Itadori Yuuji. No one special. Weak. Insignificant. A total opposite to Sukuna. It is to be expected by most people that if he faces Sukuna in a battle, that he'd be killed off in an instant yet he survived a couple of battles with him nonetheless. He's broken down, haunted by all the people that died in front of him, but is still suicidal enough to face Sukuna all because he wants to save Megumi. He does it out of care. Out of love. He'd willingly trade his life for anyone.

Love isn't a curse. It is, in fact, the opposite. Love (unconditional one) is the most powerful weapon against curses.

And that is Yuuji's biggest strength. That is the key. He's there to prove that isolation makes you weak, that it is the bonds you share with others that make you strong, make you push on, make you live. Not your capabilities as a jujutsu sorcerer, but you as a person. Jjk does a great job at portraying that who you are matters more than what rank you are on those power-scaling polls.

This is why I adore them so much. I admittedly did go off a bit (literally crafted a theory) but it was all to prove a point why I love them. What makes Yuuji so perfect as Sukuna's doom— a perfect opposite— is the fact that he's a living, breathing epitome of something Sukuna never knew about. Friendship. Love. Care. Lowkey it does sound cheesy but it works. It really works too well lol

Yuuji will end Sukuna with the power of love.

Also: Funnily enough, both Sukuna and Yuuji do look extremely alike. Sukuna's OG form is literally Yuuji grown up. You could say, in a way, that Sukuna is just Yuuji who chose the dark path lmfao

They're not beating the twins allegations but neither are they beating the 'each other's half' because their contrasting way of living, of looking at the world, just places them as perfect enemies, perfect soulmates, two sides of the same coin, etc.

They're enemies and I've always been weak for enemies to lovers to I'd still kill you.

Family Matters

I ranted a bit about this here. Although yes, this adds even more shit onto the plate and literally slaps an incest tag onto them, it still gives further depth to their relationship.

Like I said in my rant– Yuuji is an offspring of Sukuna's twin brother who he devoured. From the story perspective, that puts Yuuji on a big pedestal. He could be the perfect revenge for his father who got eaten before he could even live. Let's not forget that Yuuji got sentenced to death by the story when he swallowed Sukuna's finger and survived, which kinda mirrors that (He's just fifteen yet the threat of death was looming over his head daily).

But despite the odds, he still lived– just like Sukuna's twin brother had managed to get reincarnated (to experience life)– even if that brought on a massacre and led to the mess we are in now.

So, Yuuji ending him is the perfect revenge. Pure poetry. Thank you for coming to my ted talk!

Now, I know most people get the ick about this ship now. After all, it is ugly if you view their relationship through a romantic light. It's horrible, but at the end of the day, it is fictional. They're two lines on paper, not something that exists. No, that doesn't brand anyone liking them a literal real life incest enjoyer or dangerous individual nor is there any deeply rooted psychological problem with the people liking them. And I know— So why do you like this? Because I am an adult and can seperate what isn't real and what is. If you can't, then stay away from fiction because applying morals to something that doesn't exist is worrying.

Also in fiction, there are no rules because putting rules in fiction is destroying what makes fiction good in the first place! Hope this helps.

Sukuna and Yuuji being uncle and nephew makes for some good memes, some problematic– familial or romantic– fics and still works for the narrative. I'm not complaining and I genuienly can't hate them. It can't make me unship them. Their dynamic is too interesting for me, I'm afraid. I love them, whether in a romantic, purely familial, platonic, enemies, whatever way.

So yeah, anon. There you go.

Sukuita is very interesting for writers who want to push boundaries when it comes to writing dark, disturbing stuff but it is also a playground for those who want to nick them out of canon and have fun with them. I am one of those people because I really do find both of them interesting– in canon or an au, related or not, similar or opposites, whatever.

Have a great day/night!

#melanswers #sukuita #this got long lmao sorry I love to rant

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elliebyrrdwrites · 3 days

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14.5

(disclaimer: I'm sick and so I am blah and mushy and not at all confident about what I am writing, so I will post them all here but I am liable to delete and rewrite every section in some ill advised temper tantrum)

DRACO

“Pansy Parkinson?” Hermione was dumping food into the sink from a plate when he entered the kitchen. “Are you serious? She hates me!” She scoffed and shook her head. “And you think she’s going to train me to defend myself?”

“I do.” Draco nodded, watching her from where stood near the door.

“Well, I’m not doing it. I refuse to be ordered around by you or Pansy Parkinson. The two people who made most of my formative years a living hell!”

Draco wasn’t surprised by her displeasure. He was, however, surprised by the way her body seemed to shake with all of her pent up rage. He had, of course, made her life hell as much as possible. Pansy always willing to go along because she did genuinely dislike Granger.

But, Draco didn’t and he knew that no matter what he said or did now, it would be nearly impossible to make Hermione forget the way he had treated her as children.

And now, she was angry with him again but this time, with her bare back exposed to him. When he had apparated behind her in the parlor, he was jolted by the realization that her dress open to her lower back.

He had enjoyed the feel of it pressed against his chest, the warmth of her skin seeping into his own, even through the shirt he wore.

She smelled like vanilla and burnt sugar and something else. Something floral and all around intoxicating.

It drove him crazy. She drove him crazy.

“Calm down, Granger.” He bit out.

A plate came flying towards him, and Draco barely had the chance to duck before it shattered against the kitchen door, right where through the spot his head had been positioned. When Draco looked up, wide-eyed and suddenly charged with fresh energy, he found Granger standing with another plate in hand, her wild curls framing her furious face.

“Stop telling me to calm down.”

Draco smiled as he straightened, flicking bits of broken porcelain from his shoulder, shaking them from his hair. He stepped toward her and she lifted the plate over her shoulders in a silent threat.

“What’s really got your knickers in a twist, kitten?” His eyes flicked to the sink full of food, before running over the dress and heels she had obviously put on for a reason. He lifted his eyes back to her face and quirked a brow at her. “Are you jealous of Pansy? She and I used to date, you know.”

The plate flew at him but this time, Draco was prepared and apparated to the other side of the kitchen table.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Get out.” She seethed, lifting her proud little chin.

“Make me.” He smirked.

Suddenly, her wand was in her hand and several glass cups and porcelain mugs from the cabinet beside her head came floating out of their place, causing Draco to laugh.

One mug flew at his head and he managed to dodge it before another mug flew at his feet. He jumped, dodging the sharp pieces that flew up and around him.

“Why are you really mad?” He eyed the food in the sink. “Did you make dinner?”

She lobbed another mug at him. This time he apparated in front of the door that led to the backyard.

“Granger!” He panted, suddenly irritated with the task of dodging lethal dishes as his focused on something else. His mind was slowly starting to piece together the evidence. The dinner, the dress, the heels...the anger at seeing Pansy arrive with him.

He dodged a glass, this time jumping to the right as it hit the wall beside the back door. “Godsdamnit, Granger, cut it out!”

Her nostrils flared as he threw the command out.

“Go home, Malfoy.” She kept her wand trained on him as he stepped over the shards of glass and porcelain littering the floor.

“When I said I would be here by six...” He glanced down at the floor before taking another step, careful not to stop on any of the pieces. “You made us dinner?”

She scoffed. “No. I wouldn’t dare cook for you.”

“You ordered dinner.” He amended, lifting his hands up as he stopped in the middle of the kitchen. “You got dressed up for me.”

“I did not.” But she was lowering her wand and glancing toward the refrigerator. “I like this dress. It’s a lovely dress.”

“I agree.” He nodded. “But you’re lying. You wore that dress for me.” He lifted his chin toward her. “You wanted a do-over of last night’s dinner.” Her eyes hardened. “Am I wrong?” He certainly wanted a redo of last night.

For a moment, he thought she might deny it. That she might lob another plate at him. But she rolled her eyes and moved her hands to her hips. “Are you ever going to kiss me again, Malfoy?”

Draco might have experienced a premature ventricular contraction, because he felt a gallop in the rhythm of his heartbeat, forcing his lungs to compensate, a cough forcing its way out.

He still had his hands up, but his feet had suddenly solidified and were weighed down to the floor as her words repeated themselves over and over in his head.

She stared back at him, expectantly. Waiting for him to respond. Waiting for him to do something.

She had hoped he would kiss her tonight, clearly, judging by the food and the dress and the heels.

And now she was practically asking him to and he could barely process the idea of her wanting him to kiss her again even after he just pissed her off to the point of throwing dishes at him.

He realized, in that moment, that she enjoyed it all as much as he did. The fighting, the rough handling of one another’s emotions. He’d always been in love with Granger, but he never thought she would enjoy his little games. Never imagined her actually being the woman of his dreams. Because he didn’t deserve those things. Definitely not with anyone like her.

And when she sighed and lowered her hands from her hips, he knew he was about to let her down yet again. She shook her head and he knew she was about to walk out of the kitchen then. Away from him. Abandoning the idea of another kiss.

So, Draco apparated again.

This time, he appeared in front of her, so close that she gasped and jumped back. But before she could finish taking the step away from him, he moved forward. He pounced on her, his hand finding her face, cupping it as he crashed his lips against hers.

Her hands flew to his shoulders, gripping at the fabric of his shirt as his other hand moved to the back of her head, positioning hers just so, making it so he was able to angle his own so that his mouth slanted easily over hers.

Their first kiss was soft, an exposition of what lay deep beneath the surface; a pouring of his adolescent heart into her soul. His desperate attempt to tell her how sorry he was, how much he loved her. How fucking good she was and how much he didn’t deserve her.

This kiss was different. It was years of pent up sexual frustration. Only, it wasn’t just his frustration at not being able to touch her, it was hers. She hadn’t forgiven him for the kiss that he had left her with seven years ago.

And now Draco understood why.

Hermione’s lips were hungrier than before. It was her who forced his mouth open as she pulled at his shirt, at his hair, all in an attempt to get her body closer to his. Draco obliged and crushed his body against hers, pinning her to the kitchen counter behind her. The hand in her hair tugged while the hand at her cheek drifted to her neck. He ran his fingers along her skin, relishing in the feel of tendons moving and working as she kissed him as hard as she had hit him that day in his and Harry’s office.

Hermione’s hands found their home at the nape of his neck, working her fingers through the hair there. They were magical, those little hands. Working and moving against his skin and through his hair, creating little shudders of ecstasy to course through his body as her lips branded his, as she swallowed every breath he exhaled. She was marking him, whether she knew it or not, as hers.

And hadn’t he always been? From the moment she marched into that little compartment and jutted that stubborn little chin of hers out, her bushy hair flying all over the place, he had been enthralled by her presence.

Every year, he would watch her own a room, dismantle her enemies and still have heart and love and passion in abundance to give away.

She was tasting every bit of his desire with her tongue, her lips, the tips of her fingers as he worked his hands down to her hips. She made delicious little noises as he palmed her ass, massaging the flesh beneath her dress. And then she was wrapping her arms around his neck and he was lifting her up.

Her legs wrapped around his hips and she somehow managed to push their chests closer together, crushing her breasts against him. Her arms were cradling his head, her hands in his hair, as Draco carried her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

He passed the spare bedroom with the torture bed and kicked her door open instead. She continued to assault his lips with her own the entire time, somehow lost in a violent bout of lust.

Part of him wanted to look around the room she stayed in. To steal a glimpse at her personal space, would it give him insight into her soul? But the majority of his body and mind was too fixated on the feel of her body moving against him. The warmth of her core against his stomach as he moved his way towards the bed in the center of the room. The tightening of his trousers as he considered laying her onto the bed and taking in the sight of her flush with desire.

There was a small part of him that was anticipating something stopping them. Stopping him from finally having her, even as he laid her down on the bed, even as he positioned himself over her, propping himself up with an elbow beside her head.

He pulled his lips from hers and looked her over, waiting for her to push him away.

When she didn’t, he thought he might try and make her push him away, even as her heavy lidded eyes swept over his face, as if transfixed by the looks of it.

His hand moved down her side, and slipped under the hem of her dress, watching her, waiting for her to curse him.

When she did no such thing, he hooked his finger and ran it up the inside of her thigh. A near silent, little moan pushed past her lips and then Draco was looking down at where his hand had disappeared. He moved his finger to the center of her thighs, finding it warm and soft and moist and welcoming.

“Here, kitty-kitty.” He murmured, moving his index finger over the center of her core. Over the fabric of silk underwear. Another attempt at pushing her away, and forcing her to push him away.

She snorted but the lust hadn’t left her eyes.

“I said you would fall into bed with me,” He continued to coax her into little breathy moans with his finger as he watched her face. Her lips had parted and her eyes were fluttering closed.

“You still haven’t taken me out to dinner.” She breathed before her hand reached for his neck and pulled his lips back down to hers.

#fanfic #dramione #dramione fanfic #hermione granger #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #idiots in love #dramione fan fiction #dramione fandom #dramione fanfiction #dramione ship #dramione blurbs #finally they kiss #maybe more #dhr fanfiction #dhr #dhr fandom

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electrikworm · 3 days

Text

Human Shield: Part 3

Crosshair waits for news on Wrecker's condition, hoping his brother's life was deemed worth saving.

Later, Wrecker wakes up, something he hadn't expected to ever do again.

Final part of my "how Wrecker got his scar" fic :)

Content warning: Talk about death and self-sacrifice

Excuse me for the delay, I am very good at getting distracted by other projects!

Hope you enjoy the last chapter of this fic :) It turned out longer than expected

Inspired by this post by @squad-724

Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy :)

Read on Ao3

It's been hours and still nothing. Crosshair kicks at a piece of scrap metal Tech must have dragged into their barracks, flinging it across the room.

Tech looks up from the workbench to glare at Crosshair. “Breaking things solves nothing.” He scolds, making Crosshair want to kick the damn thing again, just to piss his ori'vod off.

After their initial post mission nap, Tech started working on force knows what and hasn't moved since. Hunter's been laying down most of the time, only getting up to drink a cup of caff. Crosshair doesn't understand how they can bare to stay so still, feeling like he'll lose his mind if he doesn't move.

So Crosshair paces, not knowing what else to do. At some point, he pickes up Lula, cradling her against his chest. The soft pressure of the tooka doll in his arms is comforting and she smells like Wrecker. And besides, if Wrecker can't hold her where he is now, in surgery or a bacta tank, Crosshair might as well hold his beloved stuffed tooka for him.

Crosshair has to believe that that's where Wrecker is, in surgery or a bact tank, because the alternative is so much worse. If he isn't being treated, he'll have been decommissioned, body laying cold in one of the morgues, or already recycled and disposed of. The sniper doesn't even want to consider that option, wants to hope they'd never considering decommissioning someone as valuable as Wrecker.

But Crosshair knows how this place works. Clones have been discarded for less, it happens all the time. And as defective clones, they're all already on thin ice. If the med scanner really did miss something like organ failure or bleeding in the brain, then they might not bother trying to save Wrecker.

Crosshair sits down next to Tech, wanting to distract himself from his darkening thoughts. Wrecker's broken helmet is propped up on the table. Crosshair picks it up, twisting it to inspect the jagged edges. Wrecker's blood has dried to the inside.

“It is beyond saving.” Tech says. Crosshair hates how that statement might end up being said about their injured brother as well.

“I can karking see that.” Crosshair spits. “Why'd you take it anyway?”

“I'm not entirely sure. It felt wrong to leave it behind.”

Crosshair huffs, but he gets what Tech means. On missions, they almost exclusively see each other with their helmets on. In a way, their helmets have become almost synonymous to their faces. The now cracked helmet in Crosshair's hands is nearly as disturbing to see as the actual injuries marring Wrecker's body. Seeing him was still worse of course. Crosshair almost feels sick when he remembers the state Wrecker was in.

Suddenly he can't bare to look at the helmet any longer. Placing it down, he resumes his pacing.

Time keeps passing, and still no news. Crosshair starts trying to tidy Wreckers bunk at some point. Not all of it though. It wouldn't feel right to see Wrecker's bunk entirely neat. That would make it feel like he's gone, and Crosshair doesn't want to think about that.

“What's taking them so long?” Crosshair hisses. He can't stand all the waiting.

“I don't know Cross.” Hunter mumbles, sounding tired. He's not been taking the situation well, none of them have.

Crosshair doesn't know what he'd do if Wrecker dies. He should be prepared for this, they've been trained to accept their own and their brother's deaths since day one. But Crosshair can't get his head around the possibility of Wrecker not being there any more. The two of them are closest in age, the two youngest of Clone Force 99. Wrecker's only a few minutes older than Crosshair, a fact he's always used to piss the sniper off.

But annoying as he is, and as much as Crosshair acts like he hates it, Wrecker's always been there for him.

Anger rises in Crosshair's chest. He can't believe they're being left in the dark about this. He's just about to kick another piece of scrap across the room when the door to their barracks slides open. A member of medical staff Crosshair doesn't recognize stands in the doorway.

“Where is he?” Crosshair spits.

“CT-9903 is in a bacta tank.” The staff member says. Crosshair has to put a hand on a nearby wall, tension from the last few hours suddenly leaving his body. He can hear the shaky breath Hunter lets out from across the room. “I have also been instructed to remind you that you have yet to report anything about the mission you were on.”

“We'll get it done.” Hunter says. Crosshair hadn't even heard him approaching. He'd like to ask if they can see Wrecker, but knows the answer would be no, so he says nothing.

As the door closes again, Tech gives him a knowing look. They'll sneak out to see him later, during the night cycle. Crosshair sits down. He can wait a little longer now, reassured by the fact their brother is alive. They'll get to see him soon enough, even if it is only through a sheet of transparisteel and litres of bacta.

Wrecker always expected to die for his brothers sooner or later. It's a fact he made peace with early, even before they gave self-sacrifice a number on their list of plans. So naturally, he'd imagine what dying would feel like.

After hours of careful contemplation and turning the idea around in his head over and over, he came to a simple conclusion: It would hurt, and then there'd be nothing.

And Wrecker wasn't wrong. Death does hurt and is followed by nothing.

But then the pain started coming back. Sometimes less, sometimes more, but it always comes back. An the nothing starts getting replaced by memories, and dreams and, worst of all, nightmares. There's nothing to stop them now, no vode, no Lula, nothing. After all, you can't wake the dead.

Wrecker longs for the nothingness he expected, anything would be better than an eternity of nightmares and pain.

Images of his vode torment Wrecker, images of them injured and dying because he didn't execute plan 99 fast enough. That's when the light appears.

Impossibly bright, blinding, so intense it hurts. Wrecker tries to twist away from it, tries to cover his eyes. He doesn't know why. Wrecker knows he's dead, doesn't have limbs to cover the eyes that don't exist nor a body to turn away from the white light. He can't do a damn thing against what he's exposed to now.

Wrecker can't breath. Confusion and horror rise in his chest as he heaves for air. Why is he trying to breath in the first place? He's dead, shouldn't be breathing at all. But he can't get himself to stop. He just continues to wheeze and cough as he struggles to get anything into his non-existence lungs, as the blinding light refuses to dim and everything starts hurting so much worse.

He sits up, another thing he shouldn't be able to do, not in the void of bad dreams and pain he's in. Tears and spit run down his face as Wrecker claws at his chest. He just wants it all to stop, wants all the pain and uncomfortable sensations gone.

Wrecker just wants to rest.

Colour swirls in the white light surrounding him, and Wrecker almost thinks it's another dream. But they feel too close, too real, almost like he could touch them if he tried. He doesn't, however one of the splotches of colours does try, and something touches Wrecker's hand.

In an instant, Wrecker's vision focuses through the blurs of tears and pain, through the blinding light. He can't stop the sob that forces its way out of his throat as he recognizes those before him.

Crosshair, Hunter and Tech.

“No, no no no...” Wrecker mutters as he backs away from them. They shouldn't be here, they shouldn't be dead! His brothers say things, their faces twisted in emotions Wrecker can't read. All he can do is uselessly gasp for air. He failed them, failed to live up to his purpose. Wrecker let them die.

“'m sorry.” Wrecker forces out between clenched teeth and failed attempts to breath. He hopes they're not hurting like he is, he hopes the pain is his punishment alone. As hard as he tries, Wrecker can't get a coherent string of words out. He wants to tell his vode how sorry he is for letting them down, that he tried his hardest even if it wasn't enough, that he wishes they were alive. It all comes out barely audible over his continuos struggle for air he doesn't need.

When Tech grabs him by the shoulder, Wrecker almost wishes his brother would hit him. Anger at his failure would be understandable, Wrecker can deal with anger. It's all he deserves for letting his squad down when they needed him most.

Instead, Tech shakes him almost gently. “Would you stop apologizing and listen for a karking second?” Tech almost does sound angry, if it weren't for the way his voice nearly gives out. “We're not dead, and neither are you.”

Wrecker doesn't say another word. Not because he doesn't want to apologize further, because he really doesn't think he's brought across just how sorry he is. It's the fact that Wrecker can't get his brain to understand what Tech is trying to tell him that gets the large clone to shut his mouth.

“Calm down Wrecker!” Hunter orders, a clear urgency to his voice. Wrecker is suddenly very aware of how loud his frantic breathing is. This time, he does manage to silence it, the white room suddenly oppressively quiet.

“Don't hold your breath, di'kut! Breathe.” Crosshair takes Wrecker's hand and presses it to his chest. Wrecker can feel his little brother inhaling, tries to match his own intake of air to Crosshair's. This is something Wrecker can do, it's hardly the first time they've had to resort to something like this. It takes a while for Wrecker's lungs to stop burning, but as they do, and Wrecker's head starts to clear, Tech's words start making sense.

Crosshair is breathing, he feels warm to the touch, his heart is beating. He feels alive, is alive . Fresh tears stream down Wrecker's face. It hurts to move, but Wrecker doesn't care, desperately needing to hold one of his brothers immediately.

“Stop squirming about, mir'osik!” Crosshair hisses, putting a hand on Wrecker's chest. There's an astonishing lack of venom to his words. “They only just fished you out of a bacta tank.”

“Don't care.” Wrecker takes hold of Crosshair's arm and drags him into a hug. White hot pain flares along the entirety of Wrecker's right side, but it's still the best thing Wrecker's felt in what seems like an eternity. His brothers are alive, that's all that matters.

“You should care.” Tech says. “Your bones have barely fused and there are still more bandages on you then there is exposed skin. If I am entirely honest, you should not be sitting up in the first place.”

If Tech doesn't want Wrecker to sit up, he'll lay down. He pulls Crosshair onto the bed as he does so. Crosshair complains loudly, surprisingly enough not about Wrecker hugging him, but about the fact Wrecker shouldn't be putting more weight on his injuries. Once Wrecker moves to the side to let Crosshair lay beside him, the sniper stops making a fuss.

Wrecker can make out that they're in a medbay now. If the look wouldn't give it away, the sharp smell of antiseptic is telling enough. Wrecker's glad his brothers are with him, he doubts he could stand the cold room alone.

Metallic screeching makes Wrecker aware of Hunter and Tech pushing one of the other beds up to Wrecker's. They're definitively not supposed to be doing that, but Wrecker won't complain. Two beds side to side, Tech and Hunter climb up on the empty one. Wrecker slings his arm across both of them, ignoring the way his body aches at the movement.

“Careful.” Tech warns. “You sustained multiple fractures in that arm, as well as your legs. It would be highly inconvenient for you to disturb the breaks.” Wrecker nods weakly.

“You're blind and death on the right side.” Crosshair sounds sad, apologetic.

Wrecker gingerly touches his face, hand brushing against thick bandages. “I thought things looked and sounded kinda funny.” Wrecker says with a laugh, making his chest sting horribly. His vode don't laugh, much to Wrecker's disappointment.

“We brought you someone.” Crosshair pulls Lula out from where she'd already been squished between them. A wide smile spreads on Wrecker's face, tugging painfully at the injured side of his face.

“Lula!” Wrecker takes the tooka doll from his brother carefully. “You kept her!” He holds her to his face for a moment, relishing the feeling of the familiar soft material against his skin, before tucking her between himself and Crosshair again.

“Kept her? Why wouldn't we keep her?” Hunter's face pinches in confusion.

“You know...” Wrecker says, waiting for them to guess what he's saying. They don't, so he continues. “If I died...”

“You think we'd get rid of her if you died?” Crosshair sounds so genuinely angry, Wrecker almost flinches away from him.

“I hoped you wouldn't...” Wrecker says, playing with Lula's ear to avoid looking at his vode.

“Maybe you did take brain damage, if you think we'd just get rid of your stuff like you never existed.” Crosshair still sounds angry, but Wrecker spots tears threatening to spill across his cheeks. Wrecker pulls Crosshair closer. He didn't want to make his brother cry.

“I'm sorry it took us so long to get to you.” Hunter says. He looks pained. Wrecker's chest aches at the sight, and he tries to pull him into a hug as well.

“What do you mean?”

Hunter swallows thickly. “We, I, made the decision to leave you under the rubble in favour of the mission. You almost died.” Hunter shakes his head. “Maybe your eye and ear could have been saved if I hadn't made that decision.”

Wrecker runs and uncoordinated hand through Hunter's hair, messing it up. “Eh, forget about it. I wasn't planning to make it out of there alive. This is a good surprise either way, missing organs or not.”

“If you try something like that again, I'll kill you myself.” Tech says, glaring at Wrecker half-heartedly.

Wrecker laughs at his brother's words, hugging his vode just a little tighter, but doesn't say anything. He knows, and he's sure his brother's know too, that if it comes down to it, Wrecker won't hesitate to call plan 99 again. He's glad to be alive, to get a bit more time, but the fact still remains: Plan 99 is Wrecker's duty and one day, it will be the last thing he does.

#tbb #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb tech #the bad batch #tbb fanfiction #wrecker whump #self sacrifice

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