#so that i can be somewhat free during holidays | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loganwritesprobably · 3 months ago

Text

Your Little.. Boyfriend?

Just a little something because there's not enough male reader content

Tags/Warnings: Crocodile/M!Reader, getting together, jealous!Crocodile, boss/employee, weird npc is obsessed w reader, implied canon-typical violence, possessive!Crocodile, first date

You'd been working for Sir Crocodile at rain dinners for a while now. You worked on the casino floor, waiting on guests who might need it while most of your co-workers worked the tables or at the bar. You were one of just two waiters, and that meant you were often stretched thin, working twice as hard as your other co-workers in order to do everything you needed to. But, damnit, you did your job well! You had already gotten a small raise, and you'd gotten a bonus last holiday season.

Crocodile wasn't at the casino often, attending to other business that he had. He was a busy man. But on the times that he was at the casino, you were usually sent to tend to him. Your waitress co-worker had been asked once but she hadn't been able to keep her nerve in the wake of such a large, intimidating man. You didn't mind, tending to Crocodile was usually a far less stressful job than tending to the general public.

You'd built somewhat of a rapport with him, to the point where he usually greeted you by name whenever you first came to see him during a visit, taking his first drink order of the day. He asked you for your thoughts on the casino sometimes, asked for information about the usual goings on of a day when he couldn't be there. You answered the questions to the best of your ability, but at first you'd also been prone to telling little white lies - you didn't want to disparage his establishment after all. Now? Now you'd freely tell him about problem employees and customers, things that needed changing, and ideas you had for the betterment of the casino. Sometimes, things changed and sometimes they didn't - he was free to make those choices himself of course, you were just honoured that he asked you at all.

Today, Crocodile was due to make another visit. You'd been told ahead of time, instructed to take care of your section until he arrived, and then it would be closed to help your co-worker while you tended to the man.

There was just one small problem. You had.. an enthusiastic customer, to put it politely.

The customer was a regular, and he always made sure to sit in your section and chat with you. It'd been nice at first, you made sure to give him excellent service for being a loyal customer, and it was nice that he liked you. Then he specifically waited for a table so he could sit in your section even if the entire other section was empty. He'd be there from open until close, buying something just often enough that he wasn't told to leave. He'd attempted to follow you on your lunch break more than once. He was starting to be scary, but you had to put on your best customer service face, because that was your job.

You closed your section, despite much complaining, and the customer attempted to follow you to Sir Crocodile. Thankfully, he spent his time in a private VIP area, so the security stopped the customer from following you. You had less than a minute to calm yourself down before making it to Crocodile, but you were fairly sure you'd managed.

"Good afternoon, Sir. How can I help you today?" You asked, cursing your slightly shaking voice.

"You know, I afford my employees here a lot of free reign, but this is incredibly unprofessional of you," Crocodile said, causing anxiety to start brewing in your stomach, "I'll take a whiskey." You nodded and set off to do that for him, desperately attempting to figure out what you'd done wrong.

And then he was gone. Crocodile had stood from the chair where he'd been lounging and left you in the VIP area out of harms way while he returned to the main area of the casino to find the customer that had been bothering you. The VIP area was soundproofed, so you could only guess what had happened while he was out there, but Crocodile returned with red knuckles and a small spatter of blood on his face. You were able to fill in the gaps.

Your stomach was in knots when you returned to Crocodile, setting his whiskey down on the table in front of him gently.

"I'm sorry if I'm speaking out of turn, sir, but I was wondering what I've done that you consider unprofessional?" You needed to know, and you could only hope that he'd explain so you could fix the behaviour.

"This is your work place, leave your little boyfriend at home next time." Crocodile told you, looking bored as if it should've been obvious that his was the issue, but you only found yourself more confused - you didn't have a boyfriend.

"I think there's been a miscommunication sir - I don't have a boyfriend. I'm single, I live alone." You replied, the tray you'd used to carry Crocodile's drink clutched tightly in your hand.

"Then who is the young man that has been obsessively following you?" He asked, his dismissive tone replaced by one more firm. He needed information and he needed it quickly.

"Just a customer sir." You told him, and you couldn't bear to make eye contact anymore, his hard gaze unnerving for the first time since you'd begun to work for the man.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You've been gone for a few weeks, he only started being so.. interested when you were gone. I haven't had a chance." You admitted. You'd been planning on telling him today anyway, it wouldn't be the first uncomfortable visitor he'd banned from the casino for mistreating his staff.

"Stay here. I'll be dealing with this one personally."

"Sir?" You asked softly, unsure what you were meant to do from here, what was expected of you next.

"I'm taking you out." Crocodile declared, gently taking the tray from your hand that you were still clutching, something to ground yourself with. You looked up at him blankly for a moment, just blinking, processing what he'd said.

"You're what?" You asked, needing some seriously clarification before you were able to process his words.

"Go home, get changed into something casual, be back here in three hours. I'm taking you out." He repeated, ushering you out the door. Out. On a date. Okay maybe you were getting ahead of yourself, maybe it wasn't a date, but just an outing. Bosses did those right? Sure, yeah. That must be it.

You headed home as you'd been instructed to, took a shower and scrubbed yourself within an inch of your life. You sprayed yourself with deodorant and cologne, hoping you could raise yourself to the standard Crocodile might expect from someone he was going.. out with. You agonised over what to wear, sure that nothing in your wardrobe was good enough for wherever you were headed. At least he'd said casual - that meant you were off the hook.

With a pair of nice trousers, patterned and made of a thin cotton that would allow the fabric to breathe to help with the heat, and a shirt in a different colour, only buttoned part way to display some of your chest - it still could be a date and there was nothing wrong with showing off a little on a date - you were ready to go. Go where, you still had no idea, but you were ready for it. Anywhere that Crocodile took you could only be wonderful.

It was definitely a date.

As requested, you returned to the casino to find Crocodile outside already waiting for you. For a second you were concerned that you were late, but Crocodile gave a small smile upon seeing you, using his sand to snuff out his cigar which was quickly disposed of.

"You look handsome." He said as you stepped up beside him, and it caught you off guard.

"Oh- thank you sir. You look quite dashing yourself." You replied and he softly laughed, offering his arm for you to take.

"Please, don't call me sir outside of work. Not unless you want me to drastically change our plans, and take you back to my bedroom." Your cheeks warmed quickly and you froze, eyes widening.

"I- yeah. Okay." You quickly nodded, hardly able to speak nevermind reply intelligently.

Crocodile took you to a small café, which was hardly what you'd been expecting, but apparently they did the best coffee in the area. After tasting it, you believed him. He indulged you by paying for everything, and banned talking about work, only allowing the two of you to talk about yourselves.

When you approached the casino again, the sun had begun to set and you'd only left because the café had closed. It had been nothing short of wonderful, but you had questions that you needed to ask before the two of you parted.

"I hope you had a good afternoon with me?" Crocodile asked, allowing you to take your arm back from his.

"I did, it was lovely. But, I have some questions."

"I'll do my best to answer them."

"Mainly.. why? I don't understand why you'd want to take me out like this. I didn't think I was your.. type." You dodged around the fact that what you really meant was you didn't think Crocodile was gay. He seemed the sort to enjoy having a pretty lady on his arm, not.. you.

"Well, you shouldn't assume those sorts of things. I've entertained both men and women in my life," Crocodile said first, and you were embarrassed to know he understood what you'd meant quite clearly, because you had assumed he was right, "and I suppose I should've made my intentions clearer,"

"at first I was away on business, but I extended my stay after Miss All Sunday notified me of your little fan. I admit it was childish, but I've been interested in you for some time now, and I thought I'd lost my chance. When I heard today that his attentions were unwanted, I took it upon myself to take care of the issue, and then I knew I had to ask you on a date myself. I couldn't risk letting you get away again."

You couldn't see anything wrong with that.

His confession made your head spin and your palms sweat. What? Your own feelings that you'd been harbouring for your employer were requited, and had been for a time now.

"I've had a little thing for you for a while as well, actually. I have to admit. I kind of convinced myself I didn't have a chance with you." You replied, and Crocodile tilted your chin so you were looking up at him, also bending down so you were more level, his eyes locked on yours.

"I think you're stunning. I only wish I'd pursued you sooner, you could've been trussed up in the finest fabrics, sleeping in my bed, and far from the scum that decided he had any right to try to touch you." His words made your heart flutter and stomach flip. He really wanted all of that?

"I should've known you'd be a possessive man."

"Oh I am. Incredibly so. If you agree to this with me, there will be no getting away from it. You'll be mine. My boy."

SFW Requests Open Only

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Recs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable @discordantwritings

#one piece #fanfic #writing #reader insert #loganwritesfanfics #sir crocodile #one piece x reader #male reader #one piece crocodile #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader

239 notes · View notes

thesassypadawan · 7 months ago

Text

Feel The Force (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: It’s May the Fourth and what better way to spend it than with your big dork of a boyfriend, the dark lord himself, Hayden! Even though you two aren’t able to see each other all that much during the day…you still manage to squeeze in some quality time to ‘feel the force’.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Bad puns, public sex, up against the wall, and, as always… Hayden’s big, fat dick.

Notes: May The Fourth Be With You! 🖤❤️

- It was May the Fourth, one of your absolute favorite holidays!

- What better way to celebrate it than at a con. Rocking your FemObi cosplay. Surrounded by fellow nerds, who are just as passionate about the franchise as you are. And, of course, with your big dork of a boyfriend, the original moody teen from Tatooine, Hayden.

- Despite not being able to see each other all that much during the event. You two still manage to squeeze in some quality time here and there. Which typically involves Hay showing how ‘wizard’ he thinks the most recent addition to your costume is. A pair of black booty shorts with ‘I Only Date Sith Lords’ printed perfectly across one of your cheeks.

- As the day goes on though, your ‘negotiation talks’ become more and more ‘aggressive’. And, soon enough, he’s dragging you off to a somewhat deserted hallway in the con center. Begging you to let him show you his ‘lightsaber skills’.

- “Hay, we’re going to get caught,” you giggle. Shrugging off your cloak and handing it to him, just like he asked.

- Quickly he pulls it on, flashing you one of those damn smiles. “Guess you’ll have to find a way to muffle all those cute sounds of yours. Think you manage that?”

- Biting your bottom lip, you nod excitedly. Tugging impatiently at the cloak, wrapping it around you both.

- “That’s, my good little padawan,” he chuckles. Backing you against the wall, shrugging down a bit to capture your lips in a searing kiss. Big hands resting on your hips; squeezing and kneading them gently.

- Moaning softly, your fingers get to work. Frantically unbuttoning and unzipping, pushing his jeans just far enough to free his rock-hard cock. “Someone’s eager for the fun to begin.”

- “Can’t help it,” he groans. Yanking at and helping you slip out of those wonderful shorts. That are hurriedly stuffed into his hoodie pocket, most likely not to be returned until the end of con. “Want more.”

- “Ah uh, you know you shouldn’t,” you tease. Leg hiking up onto his hip, the other balancing precariously on your tiptoes. While your hand fumbles to shift your panties off to the side.

- Still having to crouch a bit, Hayden lines himself up. Fat head prodding at your soaked entrance, he growls low in your ear. “Oh well, I was never the jedi I should be.” Before thrusting forward, burying himself inside your tight pussy.

- You press your face in his neck, trying to cover up your sobs from feeling that familiar burning ache. Teeth nipping at his shoulder as he starts pounding up into you, splitting you open so deliciously.

- For as much of a hot mess as you’re becoming, he’s fairing no better. Panting above you with every pump of his impressive length, hand firmly gripping your thigh. “W-when I’m around you…m-my mind is no longer my own. It’s al-always a muddle…can only t-think of you.”

- Those words, coupled with his long fingers desperately circling your clit; aid in speeding your release along. Making you clench hard around him, head tipping back while you mewl out loudly. “Kriff! Gonna…gonna…”

- Bending, he leans his forehead against yours. His blue eyes blown wide with lust; lips curled in a smirk. “You grow too aggressive. Be mindful.”

- Picking up his pace, hitting that sweet spot over and over. You barely manage to gasp out, “I…I lo-love you,” before the pleasure overtakes you. Tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, whole body clamping down on him. While you completely and totally go crashing over the edge.

- “I know,” he grunts. Bucking into you one last time, reaching his peak too. Filling you with rope after rope of hot, sticky cum.

- Mouths melding to stifle the noise coming from both of you. Bodies trembling against one another, riding out your aftershocks together. Utterly oblivious to the slow, steady stream of con attendees filtering out of the nearby panel room.

- It isn’t until you pull your head back that you notice how packed the hallway has become. Letting out a small squeak of surprise, you tense up. Walls giving an involuntary flutter, fists scrambling to pull the cloak around you two tighter. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

- Hayden on the other hand… Realizing your predicament, a smug look crosses his face. Cock twitching in interest, hardening again. Hips start to rock as he leans in more, muttering. “Relax. Just feel the force overflowing inside of you…trickling down your leg, onto the floor.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

230 notes · View notes

plxnetn1ne · 6 months ago

Text

since everyone in this fandom and their mum seem to be giving their piece about the ‘update’ coming to Hogwarts Legacy on the 6th, i figured id give my piece even if no one has asked

ive been seeing a lot of posts and replies about how “we should just take what we get and be grateful” and “the devs are working hard, do you know how hard game development is?”

im very aware of how difficult game development can be and how mentally taxing it is. i dont doubt that they’ve been through the mill.

the update is trash. its that simple. we’re allowed to feel upset about it, and for people saying that its not fair to be upset — it is fair. we shouldnt have to expect the bare minimum from a game that sold 22 million copies and reached nearly 2 billion dollars in revenue, a game that had 14 nominations for awards and 3 wins.

we were told we were getting a summer update alongside the Haunted Hogsmeade quest — the quest they promised to release to PC and Xbox in march when the game celebrated one year of release. they said, and i quote;

“As we near the one-year anniversary of Hogwarts Legacy, we wanted to let our community know that the Hogwarts Legacy PlayStation-exclusive content will be available on other platforms later this summer, along with additional updates and features for the game. Stay tuned in the coming months for more details on what’s coming to Hogwarts Legacy this year.” copy and pasted straight from Hogwarts Legacy’s official twitter page. along with additional updates and features to the game.

yes — i know, thats a very vague statement. it could have been taken in any way, but typically when additional updates and features — plural — is put into a sentence, you assume that there will be more than one new feature. it wasnt wrong for the community to assume that there was more than a few new additions coming to the game.

okay, we got photo mode — thats great for console players, but it isnt new for us PC players. im happy for my console buddies that finally get to bring their mc to life in the way ive been able to. im looking forward to seeing the uptick in photos upon the updates release. PC and Xbox got the new haunted hogsmeade quest, and thats great, considering the release of it was delayed by 3 months, but atleast we’re getting it. but basically. PS5 was fucked in the process, because everything minus photo mode is stuff they already had, and honestly, thats not fair. and double honest — thats not an update. thats the release of exclusive content plus a new addition.

for several months a summer update was hyped up, and the result was…. ps5 getting fucked, a photo mode that im going to bet my ass on will be buggy as all hell, and some cosmetics. so no — i wont be grateful. especially when we keep getting promised things and then getting fucked by a hot iron in the process. because i havent forgotten the documentary that was supposed to come out, and i still remember during September when they hyped up a digital surprise for Back to Hogwarts day and it ended up being 30 percent off on a game most of us already had, only for the game to go on sale for half off the following Nov/Dec for the holiday sales.

since the release of the game, modders have been basically picking up the slack by working their asses off to create bug fixes, better cosmetic options, enhanced schedules, companions, and so much more to keep the community somewhat entertained. this as well as the file miners that are constantly digging things up that we were robbed of, like the relationship list for companions, gaunt manor, other house specific quests, more quests concerning Isadora, on and on. on top of this, ive seen first hand how much of the outer parts of the map was developed only to be cut out. i spent a solid hour and a half today using free cam to fly around the outskirts of the map — buildings, caves, entire areas laid out for towns or poacher camps, all thrown out on top of all of the discarded quests and content.

and while im at it — ill be one of the few to say it, but Hogwarts Legacies storyline was not well thought out, or at the very least it wasnt very well portrayed. there were hundreds of questions we were left with upon beating the game. where did Anne go? what happened to the keepers after the final battle? why wasnt Isadora in her portrait? what were the keepers hiding? did inhaling the magic actually make a difference or was it just for shock value? how much of Isadora’s story did we miss? how was the undercroft tied in with Isadora when it was apparently a Gaunt secret? what even really was the undercroft?

yes, i know — “well arent they making a second one?” and yeah, im pretty sure they are, and maybe thats why we’ve gotten nothing more than a pile of bricks in the last year and a half. but, they should probably finish the first game before starting on a second.

this doesnt mean i dont love Hogwarts Legacy. i love the people ive met, the stories ive read, and i love capturing the screenshots i take from that game. the entire situation is just frustrating to no end.

#hogwarts legacy #not trying to be mean #actually i dont really care but #thought id give my share #harry potter hogwarts game #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwartslegacy #hl

67 notes · View notes

iamnmbr3 · 5 months ago

Note

Lord Voldemort <- break his ass down, please. (Love you blog, btw! 💖)

How I feel about this character

One of the characters of all time. I find Tom Riddle to be an absolutely fascinating character who is so fun to explore. I think he came out a lot more 3 dimensional than JKR perhaps intended (I say this because a lot of the backstory we get on him makes him a lot more nuanced than the narrative seems to acknowledge) which I absolutely love. His complexity, intelligence, creativity, self sufficiency, determination even in the face of impossible odds, ruthlessness, penchant for drama, and the tremendous amount of adversity he has to overcome provide a lot of richness that is fun to analyze and read about. I mean, without him we wouldn't have the story.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Alphard Black. Yes, I wouldn't have called it either not too long ago but now this ship lives rent free in my head. (If you want to read about why you can look at this post here). All hail the dysfunctional, hilarious, and emotionally compelling mess that is Alphalord - which I ship both in serious incarnations and also for the crack humor potential; truly the versatile ship of all time that gives me way too many feels but also is very fun to make crack humor posts about. Also, although it's not my OTP, I think there's a lot of interesting potential - all of varying degrees of darkness - to explore pairing him with Regulus as well.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I talked here about how fascinating I find Voldemort's relationship with Snape. He does genuinely seem to like and respect him - to the point that he is actually willing to do favors for him and expresses regret about killing him. Though also...on the flip side, he doesn't like him enough to not murder him (although interestingly from an in-universe perspective we could even read him using Nagini to kill him as him not being able to use the killing curse against Snape due to feeling conflicted). I really like the idea though of him destroying everyone who he feels even somewhat close to.

Which leads me to my actual answer to this question since I already wrote about him and Snape in the Snape ask (linked in the previous paragraph) which is - Hagrid. In the book 2 flashback Tom and Hagrid are on a first name basis. And Tom clearly already knows that Hagrid has an Acromantula because when he gets the unexpected and unwelcome news that the school is going to be closed he immediately knows just where to go to find someone to blame. This suggests that he and Hagrid had a preexisting relationship where Riddle gained Hagrid's trust enough to learn things about him.

It's notable that they would have probably been the only 2 orphans at school (after Hagrid's father died.) I can imagine them running across each other during holidays when everyone is home. (They also both had a nonstandard accent - though Riddle has succeeded in mostly getting rid of his own accent by the time the memory takes place - that might have been looked down on by some of their privileged pureblood peers).

It's also not even clear if Tom intended for Hagrid to be expelled (though he certainly was willing to risk it in order to prevent the school from closing and to avoid incurring any blame himself) given that he seemingly intends to kill the spider and say that it got loose by accident rather than as some sort of intentional plot. He also doesn't kill Hagrid when he has the chance in book 7. This is probably just for plot reasons so JKR can have him carry Harry's presumably dead body back to the school, but in-universe it's interesting. Maybe Tom thought he could still turn Hagrid into a useful servant (which I don't think would have gone well). Either way, the fact that they seemingly had a sort of friendship at one point is very interesting and lends an added layer to Hagrid's assertion in book 1 that Slytherins are bad and not to be trusted.

While Tom likely viewed Hagrid with a certain degree of disdain right from day one, it's up to interpretation whether he ever also felt any positive emotions about his relationship with Hagrid or if the friendship was purely a one-sided farce. I prefer the former because I think it adds more depth and complexity to the characters and relationships if Tom ended up having some feelings of genuine camaraderie with Hagrid but was still willing to sacrifice him to protect his own interests. It makes the moment even more interesting if he did not specifically intend for Hagrid to get expelled and thus ends up losing one of the few people who, unlike the majority of his housemates, doesn't look askance at his presumed lineage as a muggleborn and his utter poverty. And this also adds interest to his decision in the end of book 7 to capture Hagrid rather than kill him.

Though of course, neither Snape nor Hagrid hold a candle to the true Tom Riddle BROTP of all time - Tom & Nagini. I love the way he is generally very touch averse but likes to hold her and pet her like a very terrifying therapy animal.

My unpopular opinion about this character

There's a lot I've talked about before like the fact that I think Tom really did want the DADA job and I also think he's a lot more emotionally intelligent than he gets credit for and the people he seems to enjoy hurting most are actually monied purebloods and the person who behaved most unreasonably in the orphanage memory was actually not Tom.

So for this I'll go with the fact that I view Tom as a much more tragic character than the narrative seems to frame him as. It's weird that so many other characters who do bad things get framed as a tragedy not an inevitability - something that is closely linked with the idea that even for characters who have gone down the wrong path there can be redemption. We see this with Snape, with James Potter, with Regulus, with Dumbledore, arguably with Grindelwald whose last act is to lie about the Elder Wand, and sort of even with Peter Pettigrew.

In contrast, Dumbledore always acts as though it's a forgone conclusion that Tom was going to turn out evil and ignores the way wizarding society and even he himself failed to ever do anything meaningful to help Tom or try to guide him onto another path. That doesn't mean he might not have still become Lord Voldemort. But it's never treated as something that even might have been avoided. There is no discussion of what a loss it is that his talent and power and intelligence and creativity weren't used for good. But it is a loss.

It's not inevitable that Tom turned out the way he did. It's not inevitable that he lived a life where he never knew what it was to be loved. It's not inevitable that the first person to ever offer him mercy is Harry Potter and by that point it's far too late and he doesn't even understand what Harry's trying to do. It's not inevitable that because the wizarding world has no concept of social services he grew up in a muggle orphanage without any knowledge of who or what he was, hated and feared by all, and in turn learning to hate and fear them in return. It's not inevitable that Dumbledore immediately gave him up as a lost cause and he never had an adult in his life who could provide support and guidance and a sense of safety. It's not inevitable that upon arriving at Hogwarts he got sorted into a House with people like Walburga Black who would have called him mudblood and hated him for his poverty almost as much as his bloodline, breeding further anger and resentment. And it's not inevitable that he made the choices that he did to kill and to maim. It's SAD. He could have done and been so much more.

I mean, to be clear, from a reader perspective all of this makes Tom an interesting and fun character. It's not bad from a storytelling perspective that these things happened. But nonetheless, it's a tragedy. And I think that gets very little play in the narrative. Yes, Harry tells Tom to try for remorse, but it's framed by the story more as an instance of Harry being ridiculously decent. When Dumbledore discourages Harry from feeling pity for the horrifying state Tom will find himself in the afterlife, there's nothing in the narrative framing that suggests the readers are meant to view Dumbledore's callousness as awful.

From an in-universe perspective we can talk about the strange bias Dumbledore had towards Tom from the moment he met him, but from an out of universe perspective it's more about the author's bias. Yes Dumbledore is meant to be flawed and imperfect, but we readers are not meant to think his treatment of Tom is an example of that imperfection. We're supposed to think it's just fine that upon learning that Tom has lived a lonely and miserable existence where he is constant mortal fear of being declared mad and forcibly locked up, Dumbledore's first act is to use magic to frighten and to punish. Partly this is just because that scene is a flashback about the villain of the series and JKR kind of forgot that from an in-universe POV he wasn't the villain of the series yet.

But also maybe it says something more profound - because in the end of the story the narrative declares "all is well" and yet none of the factors that led to Tom Riddle's rise have actually changed. As Harry is sending his children off to school 19 years later in the accursed epilogue, nothing has actually changed. It's fine to have a story that doesn't have a happy ending. But the narrative frames the ending as a black and white "everything's fixed now and they all lived happily ever after" sort of ending and...no. And this stems, I think, from the failure to engage with the elements that make the main antagonist a great tragedy rather than a cartoonish inevitability. This all makes the story much more interesting, but I'm not sure JKR is fully aware of what she wrote.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish we saw more of him in book 7. The opening scene at the Manor in Deathly Hallows is really tense and gripping and interesting...and a lot of the wedding planning and camping stuff in my opinion...is not. More scenes of the Death Eaters and Voldemort (delivered via Harry's visions) could have been very engaging. Furthermore, Harry could have actively explored Tom's mind and/or widened the connection to try to figure out where the Horcruxes were. This would have added drama, made Harry's connection to him more central to the plot, and allowed us to see more high stakes and interesting scenes.

#asks #Harry Potter #Tom Riddle #Voldemort #Hagrid #ask game #also thank you for your lovely words about my blog! <3

50 notes · View notes

softpascalito · 11 months ago

Text

Raised on little light - 2003!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You don't have anywhere to go on Christmas Eve. Much less anyone to celebrate with. A neighbour down the street turns out to be your personal Christmas miracle.

Relationships: Joel Miller xF! Reader WC: 1500 Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Forehead Kisses, First Kiss, Pre-Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Pre-Cordyceps Outbreak Joel (The Last of Us), Christmas, Christmas Eve, Author needs therapy (and sleep), domestic abuse Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: hello loves. today is another sad one. please read the tags. the abuse is not very detailed but it's there. this fic is very personal to me and (partly) based on how i spent christmas last year. any comments are very appreciated. i'm sending you all all my love <3 also i wanna mention that this has similar tropes to a longer story idea im working on so feel free to let me know if you like the vibes of this and would like to read more :) title from the song northern attitude by noah kahan and hozier

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

for everyone who has spent christmas alone.

The worst part is the shouting.

You can ignore the passive-aggressive snides, mumbles that reach your ears in passing. You can ignore the absence of the feeling of safety. You have even learned to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach when you apply another layer of concealer.

But the shouting seems to follow you. No matter how many rooms you put in between them and you, the sounds crawl through the house, slipping under doors and into hiding nooks that you’ve long outgrown.

It makes you freeze in your tracks, every time it starts. You stand still for a moment, listening, trying to hear what it is about, how bad it seems. There is always the gnawing fear of them running out of words and turning to actions instead. And despite the fact that you’re a grown adult, that you’re technically not the helpless child you once were, it still scares you like nothing else does.

It’s exhausting to exist in a violent house.

You silently let the front door fall shut behind you, stumbling a little as you make your way to the street. Your feet seem to have a mind of their own, carrying you out into the night without a goal in mind. Just get out of the house.

It’s surprisingly cold for Austin and you draw your jacket a little tighter around your shoulders as you move down the sidewalk. The houses on your street are lit up with Christmas lights, stars dangling in windows, colorful fairy lights wrapped around fences, a lit up reindeer figurine a few houses over.

A truck drives by, the engine humming quietly, before it pulls into a driveway two houses ahead of you. When you pass the house with your head down, the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut makes you jump slightly.

The voice that follows doesn’t.

“That you?”

It only takes Joel a few strides until he’s in front of you, brown eyes searching your body for god knows what. There is a brown paper bag in his hand but you don’t dare lift your head higher to look at his face.

“Whatcha doing out here? Escaping the family gathering?” He jokes lamely, remembering the way he used to sneak off during the holidays if it got too overwhelming.

“Something like that,” you mutter back, trying to put on something resembling a smile. Either it doesn’t work or Joel is too smart to be fooled by it. Because he nods softly, bending his back a little to try and get a look at your face, “Can you look at me for a second, darlin’?”

Oh, he’s so not playing fair. He knows exactly what that nickname does to you, especially coming from him. And he’s shamelessly abusing that.

You swallow, hard and lift your head enough for the porch light to hit you. Joel’s face instantly changes. The somewhat cheerful, joking manner he’d been in a second ago is replaced by concern and something else. Something that almost seems like anger.

He drops the bags of groceries to the floor, bringing both hands up to cup your face. He’s mere inches away when he suddenly stills, eyes softening a bit, “Can I?”

You give a small nod and right away, he closes the distance, turning your head a little to get a better look at the black eye that is undoubtedly getting worse by the second. He should get some credit for not flinching away, you think, for not pretending not to see it like everyone else does.

“You put ice on it or anything?” Joel mutters, his gaze flying over the rest of your neck, clearly checking for more injuries. You barely have time to shake your head no before one hand is on your back, steering you back towards the Miller’s house. “We’ll get you patched up, okay?” Joel asks softly. When he sees your gaze, he adds, “Won’t take long, promise.”

The mood inside the living room could not reflect yours less. There is a bright tree by the window, colorful lights twinkling away. You’re barely inside when you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and you stop in your tracks. Of course Sarah would be home. You’ve gotten to know her rather well this year, after she almost failed Biology last year and when Joel mentioned it in passing, you offered to help out.

You don’t plan on letting her see you like this. She’s smart, like her dad and your afraid that just like him, she’ll know instantly what’s going on.

Joel tugs on your sleeve, motioning for you to stay. Then he turns the corner, catching Sarah at the foot of the stairs before she can reach you. Her voice still carries through to you.

“Did you get the ice cream?” Joel chuckles softly, “I did, dessert is safe. Listen, I gotta- I mean, Santa’s gotta do some last minute preparations. You mind staying in your room for a bit? And no peeking.” The girl grumbles something under her breath but heads back upstairs and a moment later, you hear her door close, a small breath of relief escaping you at that.

Joel's head appears around the corner, “Come on. I’ve got some stuff in the kitchen.”

He pulls out a first aid kit, disinfecting your wound carefully before wrapping a few ice cubes into a towel and dabbing it against your cheek a few times before holding still. The cold immediately seems to work and you involuntarily let out a sigh of relief.

Joel smiles a bit, his hand still pressing the cool sensation against your skin, “That’s better, hm? Just don’t leave it on too long.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease, bringing your own hand up to take the towel from him. There is a small moment, merely a few seconds, when your hand sneaks below his, your skin pressed against him, somehow fitting more perfectly than you ever couldve imagined. It feels even better than the ice.

Joel let go after a moment, taking a step back and turning to the kitchen that is messy with dinner preparations.

“She made you get ice cream?” You ask softly, hoping to steer the conversation into a somewhat pleasurable direction.

“Yeah, yeah, she did. You know how she is,” Joel smiles softly. It doesn’t last long. He clears his throat, glancing down at his feet.

“Listen, I know it ain’t my place. But this is not- it’s not normal. Not even close.”

“It is to them.”

Your voice is quiet. You don’t even want to say it. But something about Joel has always made you open up faster and more intensely than you have with anyone else, “It doesn’t happen that much.”

“Ain’t supposed to happen at all, darlin’,” he argues softly. His eyes fly to the window for a second. There’s a string of lights hung up in it as well. You think there’s not a single one at your house. You were raised on little light.

“We’re making dinner in a bit, Sarah’s pick, and Tommy can’t make it so we are one person short.”

You furrow your brows slightly, wondering for a moment why he is telling you about his dinner plans. But then- it washes over you.

“I couldn’t- I’m sure you have a lovely night planned and-”

“Won’t change if you’re there. It’ll still be a lovely night,” Joel says softly, nudging your foot with his. “Come on, let me- let me do this for you.”

You let him. There is dinner, luckily with no more questions about your slightly swollen face. Joel offers you some wine, lets Sarah pick a movie, pretends to hate that it’s some cheesy Christmas movie. You still catch him smiling at the screen throughout the film.

The teenager falls asleep halfway through and Joel gives you an apologetic look before he carries her to bed. When he comes back and sits down, his hand almost automatically finds your knee. Between the romantic movie and the second glass of wine, the atmosphere between you has changed.

“You know our door is always open, right? Sarah loves having you here.”

“Only Sarah?” You raise a brow, leaning into Joel’s broad form a little more and his eyes soften as he looks down on you, “You’ve had a long day. We shouldn’t add any more to that.”

“What if I want to?” Your face is hovering inches from his. You don’t remember even being this close to him, “Joel, please.”

He can’t resist your begging. He doesn’t think he could if he tried.

Christmas Eve brings you your first kiss with Joel. He runs his hands over your cheeks, always careful to avoid the bruise and even when you pull back to catch your breath, his mouth stays on your face, kissing your chin, your nose, your eyes.

He kisses your forehead an hour later when you’re wrapped into his sheets, after you’ve moaned and then cried immediately afterwards. He holds you through all of it, his voice barely a whisper to not wake Sarah.

“I like having you around too, darlin’.”

notes: thank you for reading. i love you <3

56 notes · View notes

dontilookfestive · 2 days ago

Text

The crown that will kill me

Holly angst and lore

The Christmas season starts again. While some might think of me being ecstatic all I can feel is misery.

I slump on my desk, plans for events and what humans want this year occupying almost all of it. Cups upon cups of coffee mixed with eggnog lay scattered around my office. I've long since lost track of how many there were.

I quickly take a look in the mirror across from me. God I look awful. My hair is somewhat tangled and i have so many eyes bags... Welp that's what I get for staying up for Lord knows how long

From the moment Christmas starts I know I won't be jolly. Which is ironic because that's how everyone sees me.......

I'll let you in on a little secret.... I can't stay awake for very long.

Why? Well it's simple. Because of how much I have to do during my holiday season I use so much of my energy up. It's come to the point where the Christmas spirit is all that is keeping me awake after a week.

I barley have any free time. From planning, to updateing and looking over the lists to making all of the things I barley have any time to spare. Humans get greedyer and greeder every year....my ability uses the Christmas spirit so the more I have to make the more tired I become.... And when my season is over I start to turn to ice .... It's just my body trying to preserve and get energy....but I always thaw when my season has come again

I thread my fingers through my hair as I fight back tears. No one wants me for me.... Hell the other spirits hate me.....all because I am the most popular.... I hear what they say about me behind my back....it hurts.... I didn't ask for this...any of this.... God my cheeks hurt for constantly smiling, no matter what I do they will always hate me ..... I don't know what to do anymore....... I just want to enjoy life Like a normal human but no....

......

@star-seeking-stray @paintedgrilledcheese @teddyandmochi

#bsd oc #bsd rp #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #bungou stray dogs roleplay #bsd oc rp

19 notes · View notes

grangerdang-r · 14 days ago

Text

Dual Taylor Theory- Lavender Haze/Midnight Rain Outfit Change

If you need context on the Dual-Taylor theory, I will link that here (x)

The following is under the Gaylor assumption so keep that in mind, I won't be trying to justify that part in this post.

SO, I believe the outfit change during the midnights set is very intentional- this is not something she does any other time. The songs being performed- Lavender Haze and Midnight Rain are a stark contrast of both Taylors individually. Lavender Haze is taylor the person, who feels safe and comfortable in her Lavender relationships while she gets to do as she pleases behind the scenes. Brand Taylor continues the "conversation" between the two by coming out and singing Midnight Rain, a song about how Taylor the person "wanted it comfortable//wanted a bride//family" etc. while she chose to pursue fame and make a name for herself.

I'm making this in somewhat of a rush, there are contradictions and holes but if anyone else wants to play with this idea feel free!

Further lyrical analysis below the cut

I've been under scrutiny You handle it beautifully All this shit is new to me

This is Person Taylor addressing Brand Taylor (BT), giving the media handling over to her.

I feel the lavender haze creepin' up on me Surreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

Person Taylor does not want to conform, doesn't want to be public either, just live a happy queer life with her privacy.

Talk your talk and go viral I just need this love spiral Get it off your chest- Person Taylor Get it off my desk -Brand Taylor

Again addressing BT, "do what you need to do and I'm going to do what I need to do"

and a line that feels like speaking to each other here-

"Maybe you should get this off your chest, let go of the expectations so I can be free"

"Get it off my desk // not happening we're thriving in our career" etc.

Now moving to Midnight Rain:

he wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain He wanted a bride I was making my own name Chasing that fame He stayed the same All of me changed like midnight

PT wanted a normal quiet queer life, BT wanted the fame and chaos and success, but it came at the cost of personal relationships and her reputation.

My town was a wasteland Full of cages, full of fences Pageant queens and big pretenders But for some, it was paradise

The life of being a celebrity, full of "big pretenders" like herself. Still, many people idolize this life, including her younger self who wanted this more than anything.

My boy was a montage A slow-motion, love potion Jumping off things in the ocean I broke his heart 'cause he was nice

This reminds me a lot of the lover era, "jumping into pools from balconies" "love potion" and the very sad-looking aesthetic change that followed.

ie: this sad af performance

She broke her own heart because it didn't fit her image to be openly queer.

It came like a postcard Picture perfect, shiny family Holiday, peppermint candy But for him it's every day

So I peered through a window A deep portal, time travel All the love we unravel And the life I gave away

Comparing the life PT has in private with family and loved ones (and maybe a lost female muse) to what she gave away when she continued the BT image.

I guess sometimes we all get Just what we wanted, just what we wanted

Feeling heavily what she wanted- for better of worse. She has her success, but not the life she wanted to live.

And he never thinks of me Except when I'm on TV

BT only exists when on stage/public eye, etc. PT tries to separate herself from this persona as much as she can.

I guess sometimes we all get Some kind of haunted, some kind of haunted And I never think of him Except on midnights like this (midnights like this)

BT tries to forget PT exists while performing and putting on the show, but it can't be obviously very difficult and painful to play the part.

Starting LH with "Meet me at Midnight" and ending Midnight Rain with thinking of PT "on Midnights like this" is also very telling.

Again, a lot of holes here, not extremely thorough in examples but please let me know if you have any ideas that would make this theory more solid or if you think it holds any validity. Just something that's been on my mind!

#gaylor #dualtaylor #dual taylor theory #taylor swift #midnight rain #lavender haze #eras tour #performance art

14 notes · View notes

rabbiaharon · 2 months ago

Note

How’s life?

Baruch hashem! Life is life. Truth be told though, it's been a little rough. Antisemitism on the right really spiked during the Trump Administration, especially surrounding COVID, so I got used to keeping my guard up around people on the political right in this country. Because the political right tends to be armed, and I’d had things like “when I’m done with you, if you’re still alive, you’ll be running back to your own damn country”, around 2020 I started carrying… what I needed for self defense, should the need arise. I forgot that anti-Semitism on the left can be just as bad and even more Insidious because people disguise it neatly as being against the government of a country halfway across the world, rather than against the Jews they interact with on a daily basis. I found a lot more friendly behavior among people on the left, and unless I was mamash a Trump supporter (I'm not) it didn't matter whether I disagreed with them on a majority of issues. until about half a year ago I was working for a couple of years as a driver for Uber and Lyft. I got a new car, and got a license plate "Talmud" and set my name in the app as "Rabbi", so that antisemites would see my name and plate and decide they didn't want to ride and cancel their ride with me. Mostly, my shifts were uneventful, and when I picked people up, even from places that had reputations of being not-so-safe, people were mostly surprised about being picked up by an orthodox rabbi, and inquisitive about the differences between our cultures.

And then October 7th happened. Jews are a relatively tight-knit group; usually we pretty much know someone who knows someone, so many of us were personally affected by the attack on innocent jews in Israel. There was anger that so many of our own people were killed while just trying to enjoy themselves, or living in their home. Our friends or family, or friends of friends, or family of family, who were being held hostage by a savage terrorist organization known for indiscriminate violence and the use of human shields — we wanted them back. Most of all, those of us plugged in were asking why Israel, which has a fantastic intelligence gathering operation, was blindsided, and why there was such delay in their response. We wanted accountability from liars like Netanyahu and his cronies, we wanted to know why Israel seemingly let it happen. In the midst of our mourning, most of the non-jews who seemed like they were somewhat supportive and open to us suddenly lost their minds. They showed up to protest at our holiday celebrations (which more often than not have nothing to do with Israel) screaming "from the river to the sea, Palestine must be free" over our prayers. They harass jews on the streets who are minding their own business and threatening Jewish kids on their way to school. This is only the tip of the iceberg, and this is not the place or time to delve into it in all the gruesome detail. All the people who I picked up who I hadn’t had to worry about before were hostile to me, often asking me to justify the Israeli government’s actions as soon as they got in the car, and when I answered that the issue is a nuanced one, and one I have personal connections to (through friends and family who live there, and friends of friends being held hostage by Hamas) I was often assaulted with insults about how I condone genocide and how dare I not side unequivocally with people who want to kill me, and how maybe they’re correct and should be allowed to kill as many jews as they want.

I finally was able to quit driving and rededicate myself to teaching and learning, which was a massive improvement, despite antisemitic goyim coming to protest outside our shuls and schools. Hated by the right, betrayed by the left. In short, I no longer have any trust for goyim. If I see a goy on the street, I regard them with suspicion, as they represent a potential threat to me. That said, working for jews the way I am now, I’m more financially stable, and I get to learn Torah as my primary income, which is amazing, and this is Hashem’s world, after all.

#check in #jumblr #frumblr #life #judaism #october 7th

10 notes · View notes

cerberus253 · 1 month ago

Note

Okay, hear me out, what if.. the eight demon sorcerers, ever visited brazil nowardays in their human disguises, and would actually end up interested or shocked at the culture?

Also, i can imagine po kong and bai tza would be surprised by how many man (not all cause.. y'know.) are respectful towards woman and also by how they react when a guy try to hit one or be aggressive. (i honestly think they would love the fact that when a neirghbohood has a thief around, the thief just gets beaten up and tossed to the ground by the ones who live there XD)

And oh boy, po kong would possibly love brazilian food, especially the brazilian hotdogs, since brazilians put as much things as possible in it! (ya can search it up if ya want to see it) and maybe not only her but also xiao fung would love the desserts they make!

Probabbly something that would also possibly surprise they is the holidays called "festa junina" and carnaval, like, Carnaval may be fine but too crowded, so i think they would prefer festa junina, which hsi wu would definitely love cause he would be allowed to buy those small bombs to more bigger ones made for pranks to just light it up and startle people with it for his own amusement.

And i can aswell imagine how some of they would react to realizing that some kids would actually know how to curse cause of their older siblings or possibly know how to flirt or make ccompliment to girls they like (which i can see hsi wu laughing at the background by some of the corny flirts and etc)

Or probabbly be surprised that in small towns, some kids are allowed to drive in those small italians motocycles, since is actually normal iin some small towns, and maybe get shocked by how old people behave and etc, and maybe by how some girls appearance are more developed despite their young age. which is somewhat shocking for some people.

But i think they would like to spend time on brazil, and aswell find it funny how some of the buildings brazilians do almost don't make sense or how they do their so called "gambiarras" !XD

(btw, how ya doing? also, take your time, drink water and rest. have a good day^^)

Alright so, I have to start with this: I have not been able to touch, think, nor research anything on this Ask for the past handful of weeks because of College work. In addition, my motivation for working on JCA stuff has dwindled a lot since that short period of time when I was bombarded with JCA asks. With that being said, do understand that my answers may not be up-to-snuff like my previous ones because I really do not want to spend all my little free time answering questions in a lengthy format (Ironic I say this at the beginning, before i even started typing. You will see why).

Now with that out of the way, to my Answer:

I tried to make them act In-Character without too much racial hostility and aggression towards humans, and the humans willingly including them. A very "What-If..." scenario.

Shendu

Shendu did not want to go, but since everyone was being forced to go, he had to as well. Although terrified of him, the people cheered when he showed off his fire abilities during the Burning Ceremonies. Of course he needed a larger space than the normal fires the people do, but it was worth it for them. Large streams of fire straight into the air, the sparks of flame crackling like small explosions, the sparkles of magic sprinkling throughout, the people really enjoyed the show. Shendu hated that he was being used and gawked at, but deep down he enjoyed the attention and praise.

People really wanted to decorate Shendu in bright, warm feathers to mimic the legendary Boiuna. Yeah, Shendu isn't a serpent, nor a black one, but he breathes fire and the Boiuna is a snake on fire, so close enough. The only problem is, the feathers aren't fire-proof, so Shendu would have to restrain his flames. He also didn't like that he was being used like a giant doll, but witnessing the outfit people made for him, he conceded. Although it's not his style, he agreed it looked great on him. Shendu saw himself as a godly fire dragon with flames as his crown, cape, bracers, anklets, and other regalia. If he ever When he rules the world, he may spare these people of destruction (not slavery though because Demons>>>>>>>Humans)

Po Kong

She came to Brazil to eat as much of their unique food as possible, like Feijoada, Moqueca, Quindim, Bolinho de Bacalhau ("little cod ball," which means "large cod balls" have now been invented), and Acaraje. Po Kong was not allowed to eat people there (unless they were ruining the fun), so she went for the salty, savory, and sweet foods the most. No food was thrown away at the end of the festivities!

Let's talk about Floats. Po Kong is the size of one, and yes a few of her siblings joked that she should be decorated like one and partake. The only problem is that, unlike unlike Floats, she is suuuuuper heavy and nothing is strong enough to lift her. Maybe she could be a visual attraction? Now, before anyone says "This is inappropriate and rude!" Understand this: Po Kong does not care, as long as it's in a respectable manner (being dressed as clown VS being dressed as a Geisha). If people want to take the time to beautify her to get people to look in awe, she's on board with it. Maybe it's good that she stays away from Floats, just in case any of them look too much like food. Maybe she'll request a Float actually be made out of food so she can eat it. The consuming of art in a whole knew light!

Xiao Fung

The one who forced everyone to go to Brazil. Unlike his siblings, Xiao Fung seems to be the most intrigued by humans. He still thinks demons are superior, but finds the variety of human cultures developed over their absence to be interesting. He somewhat sees most of South America as the Ultimate Culmination of Human Cultures due to many traditions being a homogeneous mixture of different cultures.

The Festival Floats, those were his favorite form the visit(s). While not as impressive as complex building architecture, he did enjoy the immense creativity and effort involved. His favorites were the ones with monsters and beasts as the centerpieces, liking the menacing over the divine. One time he saw a frog based float, and before they tore it down at the end of the festival, he demanded he take it off their hands.

Tchang Zu

Although not entirely willing to go, Tchang Zu gave it a chance after seeing/reading about their grand festivals. Although he's more of Chinese Imperialist kind of guy, the eye-catching and ornate visuals piqued his curiosity. Hopefully it's all more than just looks, with performances being just as impressive.

His favorite performances involved those that required feats of strength and agility while being in a respectable warrior's costume. Anyone who could do the Best to Impress him got a round of applause by Tchang Zu himself. Although not his preferred apparel, he did indulge in the warrior costume and had one made for himself, uniquely with a pair of large wings to mimic the Chinese Opera General Flags. After everyone left to go home, he did keep the costume as a memento and does take care of it.

Tso Lan

He didn't have any particular reason to go to Brazil, since he has no interest in human's and their existence, nor Earth's Life in general. Tso Lan only went because Xiao Fung thought it would convince him to not completely devastate the Earth's surface if he finally had enough of his siblings' bullshit and wiped them out.

Despite Tso Lan's attempts to avoid interacting with people, they did not let him. Every so often while he's floating around, minding his own business, he would catch large groups of kids and teens following him. Once he turns around to look at them, they'd dart into hiding. Annoyed and confused, he was informed why this was happening: They thought he vaguely looked like the Capelobo, a long faced, bipedal monster that sucked people's brains out. Apparently they were seeing who could go up and tap him before being caught. While not entirely on-board with the game, he did enjoy scaring the players, sometimes going up to those hiding to spook them, causing them to playfully scream and run away.

Dai Gui

Forced to go by his brother, he's really not having a good time because of all the colors. Dai Gui is more into Earthen tones, so all the other colors of the Rainbow he cringes at. All the colorful feathers and clothing reminded him too much of flowers, which he hates, so his grumpiness is quite unwelcoming to the locals.

However, some people, mostly brave younglings, would try to put body paint on him. Of course he'd be pissed by this, but once he saw the colors to his liking, he calmed down a bit and let them paint on him. He found it amusing that some kids would team up and try to paint certain colors more than their opposing group. He didn't understand why, until...

Dai Gui enjoyed watching the Bumba Meu Boi event, despite it not being as violent as he wanted it to be. The Black ox Caprichoso with the Blue Star VS the White ox Garantido with the Red Heart, he did not want to admit he grew a liking to their existence after the actors tested their bravery and went up to interact with him. They snorted, he snorted back. They waved their heads around, he would do the same. They're his pets now.

Hsi Wu

One of the few that willingly came along and is actually enjoying himself, Hsi Wu especially enjoyed the festivities, like the Rio Carnival, Boi-Bumba, and Oktoberfest.

I can't seem to find the bombs that you mention, but yeah, he would most definitely use those to scare the shit out of people and his siblings. The grumpy ones would try to get back at him (Tchang Zu would lightning strike him, Shendu would flame him, Bai Tza would soak him), but the uniquely stoic Tso Lan, he is determined to scare the life out of him. I think only Xiao Fung would find it entertaining.

Hsi Wu really like the costumes, especially those that are extravagant, colorful, and bird-like. The feathers, sequins, masks, and crowns catch his eyes, trying to get his hands on some lying around to take home and add to his collection of Stuff. I wouldn't be surprised that he'd wear some at the festival, body paint and all, just to capitalized on the fun.

Bai Tza

Bai Tza missed the days where her people would throw magnificent displays and performances all for her sake whenever she requested. Although Brazil doesn't throw these for her, she can at least be in the atmosphere of one, surrounded by her family. The only thing that ruins it is that Drago and his "friends" are around here somewhere.

Face paints of blues and whites were her favorites to put on, and seashells, sea stones, and crystal beads her favorite jewelry here. When hearing about Yemọja, the Queen of the Ocean, she wanted to pose as her, but the people wouldn't let her unless she acted like it. Obviously mad about it, the choice was being treated like a guest and be herself, or be treated like a goddess and be kind. She picked the latter, struggled to keep the benevolent mask, and her siblings never let her forget it. Never again.

Drago

Xiao Fung wanted to include his nephew, but nobody else, not even Drago himself, wanted to. To find the "Happy Medium," Xiao Fung let The Ice Crew come along to keep Drago company and out of his relatives' sight. Fun Fact: Xiao Fung did not have to threaten nor "convince" The Crew. They simply gave out a "Fuck YEAH" when told they were going to Brazil. Party Hard, ya crazy kids.

Hsi Wu would definitely pick on Drago with his mischief, pulling The Crew along with him to scare the shit out of him. Of course, Drago would get psychical with the three, but they would convince him to tag along to mess with the locals.

Although Drago has similar unpleasantness like his relatives', he isn't as intimidating, especially with The Ice Crew around. He would probably be convinced to show off martial arts, Chinese dances that require acrobatics, feats of strength, and fiery performances. Drago hated that he was being seen like a gawking toy, but deep down he enjoyed the attention, appreciation, and praise. While that's going on, the Crew are trying to get ladies (or dudes, depending on how you view them).

The Crew would willingly put on face-paint and such, Drago would be forced by them to wear it.

#ask #anon #jackie chan adventures #jca #the demon sorcerers go to brazil #demon sorcerers #and drago and the ice crew #shendu #xiao fung #bai tza #tso lan #hsi wu #tchang zu #po king #dai gui #drago #the ice crew

7 notes · View notes

osunism · 1 month ago

Text

Daughter of Disgrace

"Is there any place where Heaven's bastard daughters are welcome?"

🔞 Rating: Explicit [MDNI] ❤️‍🔥 Pairing[s]: Satoru + Sundari || Nadja + Sukuna ⚠️ Warning[s]: Explicit sexual situations, graphic depictions of violence, major character death[s], as well as some toxic relationship elements. Spoilers for the manga. Sukuna is his own warning but there is cannibalism, abuse, body horror, and mild torture in this fic. So canon-typical violence. 🪧 Summary: In the aftermath of Satoru Gojo's sealing, Sundari must choose rebellion in order to free him. Lucky for them both, rebellion has always been her preferred modus operandi.

⚠️ Be Advised: This is the sequel to Beast of No Nation. It's recommended that you read that fic first to get the context of this one.

𓃰 AO3 𑁍 OC Masterpost 𑁍 Fic Masterpost 𓃰

𓃰 Chapter Ten: Throughout Heaven & Earth

“I remember feeling your touch for the first time, so soft it turned my bones into flowers. People are like that, I’ve learned, our hearts memorize them. Some people take root inside the marrow of our bones and grow there.” —Pavana पवन

Unnamed Shore, Unnamed Time

From an aerial view, one might mistake her for a soaked piece of cargo, curled as she is on the rocky beach. The sea heaves and sighs against the shore, the tide rushing in.

That’s what wakes her, and she jerks and twitches, coughing and gasping for breath and coming up on trembling, unsteady arms, her hair bedraggled, her skin soaked and salted by the brine of the sea. She feels like one, enormous bruise, and for a moment, she wants to collapse again.

She blinks, swaying as she comes up to sit on her knees, as the waves wash upon the shore, the morning sun becoming oppressively bright to her eyes, which feel as sensitive as a newborn’s. The sea’s voice feels too loud, and she crawls further inland, her hands cold and numb to the rocks beneath her palms.

She is so cold. The kind of cold that never leaves the bones, her body shivering around her soul like it is struggling to contain it. It is struggling to contain it.

Little by little, she regains strength, and as she leaves the shore, she realizes what has happened to her.

So, this is the price.

The world is still new—she can still smell the sulfur of the First Flame, but it is fading. How long was she on this nameless shore before her soul was shoved into this body? She can feel how her soul strains against the borders of her body, not used to being so small and weak. She can feel an ache in her bones, a chill in her marrow, and she shivers. She tries to remember the warmth of that sacred place that was her home, and her blood beats in her ears as the memories slip through her mind like sand through her fingers.

Over time, she learns the limits of her body, the breadth of her strength. What was stripped from her was access to the vitae of the other realms. She can no longer hear the music of the universe. She can no longer understand the creatures she encounters. She is no more than a naked and frightened mortal.

No. No, the long life and eternal youth is molded into her is hers still, this much they have allowed her.

But she is chained to Samsara, trapped on the eastern spoke of the Wheel. Forced to begin anew. This is her punishment.

This is the price for the knowledge she has given mankind.

Zenin Estate, December 19, 2018

Winter sinks its teeth into its already nasty bite as the year approaches its end. During this time, humanity the world over prepares for the holidays, enjoying that idyllic little stretch until New Year’s Eve. In another time, Nadja may have been amongst those humans, blending in with them, pretending to be cheerful; decorating, singing, basking in the artificial joy of a holiday younger than her, but with roots in her own origins.

“You’re violating your restriction,” Sukuna murmurs, his tone somewhat mystified while they lay amidst the cushioning support of pillows, blankets, and futons arranged to accommodate Sukuna’s massive frame. Nadja is stitched to his side, her eyes heavy-lidded and blurred with pleasure, and a soft, grateful smile on her face.

“Yes,” she whispers, her tone equally mystified that she would dare such a thing. “But you already solved the riddle of me and know why I’m here. So long as I do not end your life, my mission is still active. I still have a chance to redeem myself.”

Sukuna chuckles. “Only part of it. There’s more, isn’t there? Why is my death the key to your redemption?”

Nadja’s hand is captured in his own, and he brings it to his lips, kissing her knuckles and fingers as if they are precious treasures to savor. Gone is the violence of their reunion, replaced only by the pleasant warmth of their old familiarity. The coin of their anger is spent, and only pleasure remains.

“I didn’t know it would be you,” Nadja murmurs, turning her head to press her lips against the curve of one of his shoulders, tracing the black band of cursed ink on its contours. “I wasn’t told much, only that I’d know when we crossed paths. And I knew when I saw you that night. I just…I didn’t expect you to be so…”

Sukuna grins at her knowingly and she tries to swat him for the unspoken joke he’s making with his eyes, but he still holds her hand captive. Her smile is warm, and for a moment she forgets everything but this.

“I fell in love with you,” she says softly, and she feels the tension ripple through him, sees the telltale signs of him beginning to shutter himself, but she presses onward. She has to, now, to make up for all she didn’t say a thousand years ago. “Your curious and cunning mind, your strength of course, the way you…the way you carry yourself with this unshakeable sense of self. Grace, dignity, and pride in spades. And you are so beautiful to me. And yet, I saw you were capable of infinite gentleness and compassion, in your own way. I had met many before you, but none like you. And I knew when I saw you, that I never would again.”

Sukuna smirks. “Ah, you are sentimental, then. A foolish notion, Daughter of Heaven. Though I appreciate your flattery.”

Nadja sits up, sucking her teeth in irritation. “Do you honestly feel like you must keep up this pretense here of all places? It is just the two of us, Sukuna. You need not pretend to be heartless in an attempt to belittle and hurt me. You asked why I was sent to kill you, and I’m telling you why I haven’t been able to do so.”

Sukuna watches her with shrewd eyes.

“And do you love me still? Even after all I have done and all I plan to do? To you? To your compatriots?”

Nadja breathes deep. “Sukuna, I can’t kill you, a thousand years later. Do you really need to ask?”

“No,” Sukuna replies, his gaze unblinking, its weight making Nadja feel like her skin is too tight for whatever is inside of her. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Nadja takes in a shaky breath.

“I love you,” she whispers, the words are like a secret she can no longer keep; one both of them have always known. And then the words are coming of their own volition, the scar tissue of a thousand years torn asunder to bleed the wound anew, raw and aching and vulnerable and real. “I always have. I never stopped. And I don’t think I ever will. In every lifetime I will probably love you. Four arms, two arms, no arms. Sukuna, you are—”

She doesn’t get far, as he tugs her down to kiss her soundly, until she is breathless with laughter, until his grin is imprinted on her skin as surely as the tattoos that mark him.

“Go on,” he says, as he maneuvers her beneath him, spreading her legs around his waist, his lower hands gripping her hips, while he plants his upper hands on either side of her. Nadja can feel the blunt tip of one of his cocks probing for entry, but she’s not ready yet.

“Sukuna…” she whispers, though she’s not sure for what. Sukuna grins down at her.

“I…” Her voice sounds so small, and she wishes she had a weapon. For the first time, she is truly unarmed before him. She wishes she had the conviction to raise a blade against him. But she doesn’t and he knows it. He has her dead to rights, and she just confessed that she is still in love with him. And he hasn’t said whether or not he feels the same. But they both know the truth.

One of his hands reaches down, grips his cock tightly, pumping it slowly before dragging the bulbous head up and down the seam of her pussy until he feels her grow slick. He growls in satisfaction when she relaxes under him, shivering and groaning from the sensation. The tongue of his lower mouth slips out, soaking her cunt until she’s so slippery he can slide into with ease.

“One of a kind,” he murmurs as he slips inside her warmth, finding little resistance as he stretches her until he’s hilt-deep. She moans like she’s wounded, and he drops down to his upper elbows to cage her in, kissing her forehead and then her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. There, he lingers, refusing to move, relishing the feel of her breathing and shuddering beneath him. His eyes glow in the dim bedroom, and she breathes against his mouth, lips parted as his tongue snakes between, tasting her.

“You’re something of an enigma yourself, Daughter of Heaven,” Sukuna teases, trying his damndest to ignore how her cunt tightens its grip on his cock like a wet, velvet fist. He resists the urge to push her legs back onto the mattress and plow her until she can feel him in her throat.

“D-don’t call me th-that…” She stammers, hands grasping at his forearms, nails digging into the densely corded muscle as his pace becomes a bit more demanding. She’s still sensitive and overstimulated, so getting to her first climax feels like a stumble over the finish line for her, taking her by surprise while Sukuna strokes her through it. He doesn’t stop, and Nadja struggles for breath, trying desperately to hold onto the sentient parts of herself that are dissolving beneath the relentless thrust of his hips.

In every lifetime…

Sukuna does not tell her that he loves her, but it’s there: imprinted in every kiss, every groan, every mark he leaves on her skin with his teeth. The way he holds her close and whispers the filthiest words in the most tender voice, as if telling her to come for him is a benediction and not a command. And she comes apart, sundered from herself, surrendering to him as she has longed to do from the moment she saw him.

In every lifetime…

Nadja feels the pact on her soul weigh heavy like chains, even as Sukuna’s thrusts become ragged and stuttered. His expression is shuttered from her, his eyes distant, and he comes with a guttural sound that shakes her bones, driving himself to the hilt as he empties himself inside of her, spent and sated.

In every lifetime…

Pierce the heart of the heartless.

Sukuna rolls them over, and Nadja lays atop him in utter stillness, limp and panting for breath. His chest rises and falls beneath her, his heart beating a strong fever cadence in her ears. War drums in the hollow cavity of his chest. The heart she is supposed to pierce with her Executioner Blade, which lies forgotten amidst the pile of suedes and sheaths beyond her reach.

I love you.

Nadja feels something snap within her, a sound like a chain breaking, and shuts her eyes against the sudden threat of tears. How can she hope to kill this man when she no longer feels the need to prove herself to the ones who gave her this mission?

“Sukuna,” she whispers, and his answering hum sound pleased and sated. “What is your goal for all this?”

Sukuna stills beneath her, and she feels unsure for the first time. A pair of hands tighten their grip on her rear, and she knows there will be bruising.

“Look at me.” The command brooks no room for protest and Nadja responds by sitting up to look at him. For a man who hates to be looked down upon, he does not seem to mind. Even so, all four of his eyes are on hers, the crimson glittering like faceted rubies, his expression one of deadly calm.

“Sukuna—” He silences her with another look.

“I will do as I please,” he says. “Until my life is taken, or I expire of old age. Time has no meaning for me as a curse, just as it never had meaning for you as an immortal.”

Nadja shakes her head. “But what is the point of all this violence? My love do you not see that things could be different now? You can choose another path.”

Sukuna stares at her.

“Why would I want to?”

Tears prick Nadja’s eyes. She has to try. Maybe there will be no need to draw her sword, or to hope that their daughter can put him down for good. She shuts her eyes, willing the tears to stay, but her lashes are wet, and Sukuna can see his obstinate stance has wounded her. Something in his gut twists and squirms like maggots in a corpse. He reaches up with one hand, cups Nadja’s face, his thumb catching a single tear that escapes her moist lashes.

“Please,” she whispers. She knows she’s going to beg. “Take another vessel, let Megumi go, you have a chance to do something different. The world that cursed you no longer exists, my love. Why isn’t this enough?”

Sukuna sucks his teeth.

“I will have you,” he says. “And I will have my vengeance. I am a curse, Nadja. It is my purpose.”

Nadja is angry, now. More at what was done to him to make him this way than anything.

“You are not a curse!” She snaps and from the way his gaze sharpens and one of his hands twitch in a familiar gesture, she knows she’s overstepped. The pain of his technique opens a small wound in her side. Blood trickles down, sliding over every slalom before landing on his belly. His secondary mouth opens, the massive tongue sliding out to lap at the droplets. Nadja hates herself for finding it…arousing.

“What am I, then?” He taunts.

Nadja glares at him, tears gathering in her eyes again.

“You’re a man, Sukuna. You are one of a kind. The most powerful sorcerer I’ve ever met. A veritable virtuoso of jujutsu. Your gifts could change this world for the better. Why continue on this path when everyone who has ever cursed you is already dead? You don’t have to carry it anymore, my love.”

My love.

Sukuna has longed to hear her say those words, and he hates that the first time he hears them in sincerity is when she is begging him not to do what he has always done. It scrapes at his nerves, but his heart beats heavy in his chest. He hates it, hates this, but knows that there is a price for being greedy. There’s always a price. She knows this as so few do, being the divine creature she is trapped in this body.

He is silent in the wake of her plea, can see the tears in her eyes. He has never seen her weep in sorrow before.

He thinks about the poison writhing inside him, thinks of a conversation he had with her long ago. He loves her, but even that will eventually be sacrificed on the altar of what he is. The God of Hida, and its most fearsome bane.

“Go back to them,” he tells her, and hates himself for every word that leaves his mouth. “If we survive all this, we will continue this discussion.”

Nadja laughs despite her tears, and he smiles easily for having made her smile this once.

Sukuna’s lower eyes slip to the wound he made. It’s healed, leaving only dried flecks of blood. One of his hands kneads up her side, giving her waist a generous squeeze.

“And if we don’t?” She whispers, and Sukuna’s eyes meet hers.

“Then I will find you on the Wheel, Nadja,” he says, and grins that secretive and malicious grin. “You were made for me, after all.”

Shibuya 109 Building Rooftop, December 24, 2018

The morning of Christmas Eve dawns overcast and gray, a dry and crisp wind threading through Tokyo’s spire-ridden heart, whistling across the wasteland of Shibuya, and moaning through the abandoned streets of the city. Satoru takes in the unnerving quiet of the city, unblinking, his face an impassive effigy of stillness and concentration, his haori and scarf whipping around him.

When he’d initially chosen this day, he had been thinking of Suguru, and it had taken time for him to realize that he had one foot entrenched in the past, one of his Six Eyes always looking backward. It wasn’t until his birthday, and his talk with Nanami that he realized he could no longer afford to look back. It wasn’t until he finally looked around him that he realized he could look forward. He no longer needs to look behind him, waiting for a comforting presence that will never come.

He has to move forward. After all, there is a future with love waiting for him. His students are watching. The world is watching. Destiny’s hand has never been heavier on his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp, algid December wind, relishing the sting in his nose and eyes. At his back, three of the people he wishes to protect stand at the ready: Utahime, whose soft eyes are hardened with determination, her cursed energy building; Gakuganji, who tunes up his guitar with ease, rheumy eyes clear and focused and lucid; and then there is Sundari, whose four arms are stretched in preparation, each of her four hands in a different mudra, her body held in the statuary of a one-legged pose—a veritable embodiment of Nataraja.

“When you’re ready,” Satoru says to Utahime.

The ritual the four of them undertake is one they have been planning since Satoru got the lay of the land and the date of the challenge, weaving it day after day with cursed energy. Each of them, a thread in a greater tapestry set to be unveiled on this day. Satoru looks forward, raises his voice in a chant not heard in centuries.

Together, they weave a melody of cursed energy. Ijichi’s veil holds, but Satoru can sense the strain in him. He has poured all of himself into this moment, and Satoru trusts no one else to accomplish this opening gambit.

He does not stand alone. He never will again.

All Six Eyes are open, and the world around him is transformed. He can see the very fabric of cursed energy in the air, can chase its dark and glittering threads to their source. He can pull it apart, weave it together, compounding it upon itself unto infinity.

Technique Amplification: Blue.

Sundari’s voice harmonizes with Utahime’s, all four of her eyes flaring and unblinking.

Technique Reversal: Red.

Gakuganji’s fingers strum a wailing chord that threads the infinity between both orbs.

“Nine Ropes. Polarized light. Crow and Declaration. Between Front and Back.”

Satoru’s voice rings with a power that makes the very air tremble in anticipation for the leashed power gathering like a storm at the tips of his fingers. Threading beneath him is Sundari’s haunting harmony, sung from the mouth on her belly, weaving like balanced koi with Utahime’s powerfully clear and bright voice.

Hollow Technique: Purple.

And all at once, the world releases its breath as Ijichi’s barrier dissolves. For a brief instant, the entire city is engulfed in violet light, so bright that no cameras could get a photo of what exactly happened that day.

Satoru watches with wide and predatory eyes as his attack rushed across the city, carving an impossible swathe through Shibuya, heading straight to Shinjuku. He can see Sukuna, can see the steady and malevolent flower of destruction that is his cursed energy, and the pinprick of his lackey at his rear.

He can almost make out Sukuna’s smug smirk as he dodges at the last possible second. Satoru knows what he’s up against when he manages to take off two of Sukuna’s arms. It’s a hell of an opening gambit, and he’s still got plenty of cursed energy to spare. He was just hoping Purple would finish this quickly.

Ah, well. He is the strongest, after all.

Satoru doesn’t look back, even as he vanishes, making his way to Shinjuku. He finds Sukuna, surveying the damage Purple left in its wake, and healing his severed arms. Satoru isn’t prepared for how big he is.

Well, Sundari is tall…it makes sense that she took after her—

“Just so we’re clear,” Satoru says with a grin. “You’re the challenger here.”

Sukuna grins back like a predator scenting blood. “Alright, punk. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Amplifying Satoru’s power had barely tapped Sundari’s cursed energy reserves, but she still feels the strain of pouring so much of herself into a bolstering technique. She is better suited to destruction than support. Takes just as much energy but feels more fun for her. She’ll have to commend Utahime for being able to do this and still be standing after. The elder sorcerer with the guitar isn’t so bad either, though he looks at her like she’s Sukuna himself.

Ah, well. She’s known not everyone will take her presence as a welcome one. Still, without Satoru here as a buffer, she has to confront these prejudices head-on, and she’s never backed down from a challenge.

“You stare at me any harder and you’ll burst into flames, Gakuganji,” Sundari says, amused as her lower eyes catch his glare again as they make their way back to the rest of the group.

“Only after you and your accursed father have been exorcized, no doubt,” he fires back with equal venom. Sundari chuckles darkly.

“You guys are going about this all wrong if you still think he’s a curse,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. At Utahime’s sharp look, Sundari turned out all four of her hands.

“You could have spent more time picking me and mom’s brains instead of glaring at me, just saying,” Sundari says. “But mom already explained when she got back: Sukuna’s incarnated. Whatever he did to turn himself into a cursed object seems like a set thing, so…not a curse! Otherwise, Megumi’s shikigami would have killed him.”

She meets Utahime and Gakuganji’s shocked expressions.

“You guys never wondered how the fuck he did it?” Sundari asks incredulously. “Oh. Satoru mentioned that jujutsu society is very…insular, even amongst yourselves. Wow, I bet all that shit in Shibuya could have been avoided if you guys talked to each other and shared knowledge more, huh?”

And with that, Sundari takes her leave. She finds the rest of what remains of ‘jujutsu society’ arrayed in a viewing room. Mei Mei has been contracted to stream the showdown between Satoru and Sukuna via her cursed technique. Sundari initially protested the idea, but Satoru insisted.

She still thinks it’s foolish.

“Hikmat-san,” Yuji greets with a wave. Sundari smirks.

“Just Sundari, Yuji,” she corrects. “What’s up? Has Satoru won, yet? He promised he’d wrap this up as quick as he could.”

Not only is Satoru not winning, but he’s scrapping. Sundari watches as her father and her…well, she guesses she can call him her boyfriend…thinking about this gets weird for her so she focuses on the fight as objectively as she can. Satoru is so fast, and she’s fought him enough that she can practically feel their breaths in sync. She can feel his movements, and if she focuses enough, she can almost predict his explosiveness.

But her father is the same way. She can see it, even if the others can’t. The older sorcerer, Kusakabe, is onto something, and Sundari knows that his mind is chasing the same conclusion: Satoru and Sukuna are nigh evenly matched.

“Have you seen my mother anywhere?” Sundari asks Yuji, who shakes his head. Sundari sucks her teeth. How cowardly of her: she can’t even bring herself to watch Sukuna’s defeat, one she could have avoided had she done her job right the first time.

Sundari stops herself short, her anger cooling immediately. No, that isn’t fair to her mother. She can’t imagine being forced to be the executioner of someone she loves. She can’t imagine ever having to do something like that to Satoru, or any of the students she’s come to adore and respect since coming to know them.

And Nadja has loved Sukuna for a thousand years. Sundari counts her very existence as proof of that, otherwise, Nadja could have killed her too. Still, they have a duty to this world, and she has a vow to consider, and right now the man she loves is trying to find a way to circumvent it and Sundari knows…

…she knows it’s not enough to thwart the will of Heaven itself.

Satoru has trained all his life for this moment.

Every single thing that has shaped him, was for this: his destiny.

Sukuna is the jujutsu world’s “unfinished business” only because none have ever been strong enough to destroy him. Satoru knows why he was born, has watched the unfathomable pattern of the universe unfold before his Six Eyes. He has grasped it at the very brink of death, the glittering edge of fate that seldom few ever got to see without fully dying.

He has been to that place, the thin, bright line betwixt life and death, and know his destiny snarls in his face with two faces, two mouths, four eyes, and four arms.

Sundari was meant to cross his path, and he was meant to hone his diamond edge against her in preparation for this.

Four arms. He can handle that. Reach and flexibility. He just pours more into his speed; his mind is a slipstream of instinct and impossible calculus.

He can’t think of her right now, but he does anyway. Sundari and her four arms. Sukuna has more cursed energy behind his strikes than her, but their physiology is the same and thus, bound by the same rules.

Four eyes—Satoru has fought his daughter and learned the limits of her enhanced perception and perspective. Yes, he knows where Sukuna’s blind spots are.

The second mouth. Sundari has told him it does not strain the heart or lungs. It can chant indefinitely while the second set of arms makes mudras. Alright, he can take that apart when he finds an opening. At least temporarily.

He has to find a way to keep Sukuna from being able to heal. That’s the definitive factor. If he cannot replenish himself, then it becomes a war of attrition. And that is a war that Satoru will inevitably win due to his limitless cursed energy reserves.

It’s when he sees the strange wheel cresting behind Sukuna’s head that he realizes there is one thing he could never have prepared for.

A long time ago, Satoru was told about the origin of the bad blood between his clan and the Zenins. In his mind, the Zenins were almost to a one pieces of absolute shit, and most of them not nearly strong enough to run in yolk with him anyway [until Toji, and later Maki]. Still, the story of their fabled inherited technique was one passed down through the generations of both clans as it had once changed the trajectory of their bloodlines forever.

Until he was born, of course.

And because Satoru does not believe in coincidence—only the spokes of the wheel that are Fate and Destiny—he understands what the universe has tasked him with…and what that means for Megumi as well, whose soul is barely a dim flicker in his eyes, hidden deep within the monster that has consumed him. Sukuna is just armor, and Satoru will pull him piecemeal from his charge like any other curse clinging so viscerally to life long after their time is done.

The halo-like wheel crowning Sukuna glows and twitches, and then turns once.

Something in the universe tilts away from Satoru, but it’s so subtle that he almost mistakes it for vertigo. But no, his Six Eyes are telling him something is changing, shifting. He focuses on Sukuna, seeking to damage him beyond repair. The wheel is twitching again, but not glowing.

What the hell is going on?

He tries to remember the intel he was given. Nadja hadn’t mentioned anything about this, but Sundari had mentioned Megumi summoning a powerful shikigami with a similar apparatus above its head. She’d gotten Megumi to safety in Shibuya while Sukuna fought and destroyed it, negating the subjugation ritual. And if he wears this apparatus now, that can only mean…

Satoru shifts tactics immediately. He wishes that Sundari had stayed and fought that shikigami, but he knows that this must be the same ability that killed the Limitless Six Eyes user four centuries prior. And in turn, the Ten Shadows user must have also been killed, likely by the very shikigami they summoned to end the fight. No one was ever able to figure out how because once the Ten Shadows user perished, the shikigami was dismissed. No one knows what it fucking does. But Sukuna seems to, and that’s troubling.

There is no such thing as coincidence.

Sukuna has tamed whatever thing lay at the end of the Ten Shadows, and he’s using it for something Satoru cannot figure out.

“What will your last words be, I wonder?” Sukuna asks as they lock themselves in a stalemate, their cursed energy lashing against the borders of one another’s defenses like warring storms. “Shall I tell them to Sundari for you?”

Satoru grins, unflappable in the face of shit talking. He invented that.

“I don’t know,” Satoru says. “She’s not big on long, dramatic good-byes. She did give me a good luck kiss and told me to hurry up and kill you, though.”

Satoru’s Six Eyes are running on all cylinders, and his awareness is nigh omnipotent. He can see in all six directions, and as their fight tears through Shinjuku, he feels something he’s only ever felt when sparring Sundari: joy. There is something utterly joyful in being able to revel in the full of his power. Since he was freed from the Prison Realm, he’s felt like a horse that has shaken loose its bridle, and he never intends to be yoked again.

The very concrete around them shatters with every blow, and Sukuna’s smile is as manic and wild as his own. He sees where Sundari gets it. All that cursed energy, and nowhere to unleash it. Satoru is the perfect match for either of them, because what is the Limitless good for if not enduring relentless cursed energy like this?

It’s when the wheel turns again that Sukuna’s smile turns from manic to smug.

And the first blood drawn from Satoru shocks him to momentary stillness as Sukuna flicks two fingers in a careless gesture. The flesh on his neck opens up, and blood spurts from the shallow wound. Satoru feels his mind attempt to go back to a time long past, threatening to lock his limbs and freeze his body, but he’s trained for this.

That fight is over. Move.

The world rushes back into focus and sound, and Satoru summons his domain at the same time Sukuna summons his.

Sundari sees Gojo’s blood spray through the screen, and her breath gets trapped in her lungs. For a moment, everyone is silent because no one in the room has ever been able to get past Satoru’s Infinity ability. Sundari has never been able to figure out how to utilize domain amplification and innate technique in order to utilize both effectively, but as she watches both sorcerers open their domains, she realizes that her father is quite simply on an entirely differently level.

A virtuoso, she’d jokingly referred to him as when she was explaining to Satoru why her training was more rigorous. For all her power, she did not inherent her father’s ingenuity when it came to jujutsu. What she is, she fought and bled for in every way one can for such knowledge without compromising themselves. She wagers her father didn’t have it easy in his time either, not to mention curses were much stronger back then.

She can’t argue any of that.

What she can argue is that the wheel on his head—the one belonging to Megumi’s shikigami—is kind of fucking cheating.

“Your thoughts betray you, girl,” a voice says at her side. Sundari looks up. A stranger, one newly acquired in the wake of the Culling Games, Hajime Kashimo. Of all assembled, he is the only incarnated sorcerer that seems mostly on their side. When confronted by Satoru, his only desire was to face Sukuna should the Honored One fall, and Satoru agreed. Since then, his behavior—while harsh to some—has been tolerable.

Sundari knows his interest in her is an extension of his desire to battle her father. Foolish.

“Then perhaps you should consider minding your business as everyone else seems able to do,” Sundari retorted, awarding him only a flicker of her lower eyes to his younger, incarnated body.

“When this is over, and if we both survive, perhaps I will test the mettle of the Princess of Curses,” Kashimo says with a derisive little chuckle. Sundari resists the urge to roll her eyes. Not only from the title he’s bestowed upon her, but from the fact that he thinks he can survive a bout with her father and challenge her shortly after. Even Satoru would not be so foolhardy.

“You’ll find me less likely to adhere to whatever antiquated protocols you ancient sorcerers seem so keen on bringing back in the modern era,” Sundari says—her only warning to him. “If we both survive this, you go back in the box you came out of, and free the mortal whose body you’ve stolen. If you’re a good sport about it, I won’t even destroy whatever cursed object you’ve been hiding in.”

When Kashimo stalks off, muttering something about ‘Sukuna’s insolent whelp’, Sundari smiles.

Where the hell is her mother? It’s been an hour already, and the domain clash between Satoru and Sukuna has reached a pinnacle. She’s never seen such brazen displays of power. Domain clashes are usually the final step to victory but both opponents have equally refined domains. Sundari is secretly glad she explained to Satoru how she manages to cast her domain with no barrier.

Whatever she managed to say must have run through all the filters of his brain for him to figure out an open-barrier domain. It’s a nigh-impossible feat, but Satoru, like her father, is more in-tune with the borders of his own soul, which he now understands to be truly limitless.

She watches and wants to cheer when Sukuna is stunned into stillness, overtaken by the Unlimited Void. Sundari remembers asking Satoru once what it was like to be on the receiving end of it, and he refused to show her, not knowing how it would affect her abilities if he unleashed such power. It had been enough for them to simply walk hand in hand, marveling at the beauty of his soul made manifest around them.

Satoru’s fist plows into Sukuna’s chest in a shower of black sparks, and Sundari wonders why her heart seizes in surprise and sorrow as blood trickles from her father’s mouth. All four of his eyes flutter and Sundari’s breath catches in her throat.

The others are excited, dissecting the fight as if this is some sort of sporting event and not a battle upon which their fates all hang by a single thread. They are so certain that Satoru has secured a decisive victory after such a devastating blow. Sundari stares at the screen when the sparks fade.

Satoru’s hand is covered in blood, it drips from his fingertips. Sukuna coughs wetly.

“Lookin’ a little rough there, old man,” Satoru taunts, sounding winded. Sukuna doesn’t glare at him, but grins through his bloodied teeth, giving Satoru a savage smile that makes the Honored One’s blood chill only slightly. Sukuna reaches up, touches the cavity in his sternum.

He cannot open his domain.

But, neither can Satoru, if the trickle of blood from his nose is any indication.

“You’re in pretty rough shape yourself, punk,” Sukuna says, and they spill into motion again.

The crown spins and spins, glows and glows.

Satoru still hasn’t figured out what it’s doing.

He hits Sukuna in the chest again in a shower of black sparks, sending the monster staggering back. Sukuna falls to one knee and Satoru prepares to finish him off, offering a silent apology to Megumi. He’s so goddamned tired, and he knows if he doesn’t muster a Hollow Purple, now, it’s only a matter of time before Sukuna regains his advantage. They’ve clashed domains no less than five times and Sukuna was only stunned for a moment before recovering.

That damnable crown on his head has something to do with it.

Two pairs of hands emerge from his shadow and seize him by the arms. Satoru is so shocked he momentarily forgets himself, his Infinity activating instinctually.

There’s a sound like metal being torn as a blade shears through the barrier of his technique and severs his arm.

Satoru manages to leap out of the way before the blade can do more damage.

Towering over him is what he understands to be the shikigami Sundari described in Shibuya. The wheel…the crowning wheel…Satoru searches the archives of his memory, but his brain is burning from the strain of his reversed curse technique overwriting the damage. He’s got the gist of what this shikigami must be doing, but that blade is nasty business.

He’ll need to take out Sukuna and the shikigami in one shot if he hopes to limp out of here with his head on his shoulders.

Sukuna smiles, still on one knee as the battle begins in earnest.

Satoru once again wishes that Sundari had been present for Sukuna’s battle with this shikigami. At the very least, he can know what it does, but as the fight continues, he comes to understand what it is: adaptation.

He has to destroy it.

The war for attrition grows desperate, only because he feels his cursed energy output decrease. The black flashes he unleashed help, but he cannot risk opening his domain again as he cannot replenish what he’ll lose if he does.

And it may very well kill him, but Sukuna likely already knows that. Not that it matters…he has other tactics.

He summons Blue and Red, sending them away toward Sukuna. The King of Curses shields himself accordingly, sending Red far and wide, apparently missing its target.

Mahoraga steps in to block Blue, and Satoru smirks because it is at maximum output.

The shikigami is torn apart, and the crown on Sukuna’s head dissolves. Even so, he is still alive, and he has what he needs to destroy this little upstart. No, that does not do this battle justice.

Red swings back around as Satoru closes in, distracting Sukuna just long enough to trigger its delayed detonation. Sukuna tumbles forward, and Satoru readies another attack, leaping and catching him around the waist with both legs, unleashing a series of punishing blows. One of Sukuna’s hands catches Satoru’s fist, and Satoru points up.

“Bang.” He says, and unleashes Red again. He can only do this so many more times, but this fucker is the hardest he’s ever fought. Even his training with Sundari hasn’t prepared him for being pushed this far.

They break apart in the detonation, and Satoru activates his Infinity again, catching his breath. When the dust settles, Sukuna is still standing, but there is a fury in his eyes fed by tinder a thousand years gone by.

He makes a gesture, gathering his cursed energy to the singularity of his being. Satoru’s eyes are bright and alert, and he ignores the painful pulsing in his skull as he registers just how vast Sukuna’s power is.

Ah, Sundari, he thinks, readying himself as he heals his severed arm. I’m sorry we won’t get to do everything I promised. Fuck, am I really doing this right now?

Sukuna took aim, and Satoru saw the cursed energy of a large slash heading his way. He smirked, but his smirk faded when he saw Sukuna’s expression: a hunger there, an eagerness, and anticipation of something.

Something’s off.

There’s a strange peace that settles over the ruined battlefield, as the slash grows closer to claim his life. He can see Sukuna’s eyes grow wide, and the ruin of his face where Red hit its mark. The clouds scuttle across the sky, and Satoru is reminded of his final battle with Toji Fushiguro.

Toji?

No, Satoru sees her as she seems to shadow-step in front of him. He hears the hiss of steel as her sword, a blade so bright it looks like the sun itself, derails from its sheath. Satoru sees the cursed energy radiating from the sword like a beacon. He knows what it can do, but he’s never seen Nadja use it.

She brings the blade up in a cross-body swing and there’s a metallic screech as the very will of the divine and what Satoru now understands to be the very will of the profane clash against one another. Sukuna’s cursed technique splits in two as Nadja’s sword explodes in a shower of divine sparks.

Satoru manages to duck even as the slash passes him by.

“Nadja…” Satoru murmurs.

Sukuna’s eyes are wide as he gazes upon her.

Nadja’s hands are burned beyond recognition, the flesh sizzling from the impact of the block she wasn’t sure would land. But then, blood spills from her mouth, and there’s a terrible pain in her chest.

“Sukuna…I’m…” she gurgles, looking at him as she slides to her knees, her upper body severed from her lower half as she crumples to the ground.

“Nadja!” Satoru cries and Sukuna hesitates for the first time.

There’s silence on the battlefield, now, and some cold and terrible emptiness that takes its place. Sukuna watches Nadja’s body, hoping against hope. He’s killed her before, she’ll reconstitute in moments. How foolish of her to try and defend that punk! But he expects no less. After all, they have a conversation to finish.

Satoru is kneeling at Nadja’s side, his eyes reading for anything, something denoting life, something denoting the divine resurrection he knows is her birthright and punishment. Sukuna lives and so the peace of death will elude her until he dies.

He looks up, finds Sukuna standing over him.

Nadja doesn’t move, and her blood seeps into the dust, into the shattered concrete, pooling around her broken body.

Sukuna is silent as he kneels, a pair of his hands taking both halves of her, and Satoru doesn’t stop him. It is enough for one day. In a blink, the King of Curses is gone, and Satoru is left alone and injured, staring at the darkening stain of divine blood spilled in the name of protecting him.

Jujutsu Tech, Tokyo Campus, December 24, 2018

Sundari is numb in the wake of what they’ve all witnessed. They all are, because the battle did not end in victory for either side. Satoru lives to fight another day, but so too does Sukuna.

“We should strike at him now, while he’s injured!” Kusakabe grouses, breaking the warbling tension in the air. Sundari is silent.

“There’s no telling if we can even beat him as he is, now,” Utahime argues. “And with Gojo injured, we’ve lost one of our biggest advantages over him.”

Kusakabe sucks his teeth. “His daughter is with us, isn’t she? And according to Gojo isn’t she just as powerful?”

Sundari can’t hear them. She’s staring at the blank screens on the wall, watching as Satoru limps off the battlefield, away from the bloodstain where her mother once lay. There’s a loud buzzing in her ears, high pitched and keening.

The room goes silent again and all eyes turn to her.

She blinks slowly and regards all of them.

“I’ll go,” she says, and her voice sounds hollow to her ears. “And if I’m not back before a reasonable amount of time, assume I’m dead.”

She turns and leaves, but not before running into Satoru in the courtyard. He staggers a little, and there’s a scar on his arm where he’s healed it from being severed. He takes one look at Sundari, and he understands.

“Sundari,” he says, coming to her, drawing her into his embrace. If he has no energy for little else, he will find it for this. “I didn’t know…”

Sundari shuts all four of her eyes tightly, swallowing the lump in her throat. She can’t afford to think of that, right now.

“I have to go, Satoru,” she whispers, not trusting her voice to be any higher than this. Satoru holds her tightly, as if he seeks to keep her here, but she knows that he almost died this day. A rare occurrence for one such as him.

“I know,” he says back, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Be careful.”

“Do you think you have the energy to…” she ventures. Satoru blinks and then immediately understands.

“Yeah…” he breathes. “Yeah, I can.”

He makes a circle around Sundari, painting the sutra of teleportation around her. He knows where Sukuna is, and he hopes he can get Sundari close enough to make her journey easier.

“Good luck,” he says to her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says as he claps his hands together and she vanishes, leaving a small crater where she once stood.

Satoru continues his journey inside, welcomed by his students, but feeling the sour taste of failure in his mouth. He only hopes Sundari can succeed where he’s failed. He can only hope vengeance doesn’t cloud her judgment.

A foolish thing, to hope against hope. But he has faith in his goddess.

˚⊱🪷⊰˚ Masterpost || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter ⤳

© 2024 Hajara Asiri. Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost anywhere without permission [reblogging posts is okay]. This includes copying my masterlist format or feeding ANY of my writing to the uninspired AI garbage machines. I only upload on Tumblr, AO3, and FFN. Title and footer banners by me. Dividers and support by @cafekitsune.

☕️ Member of the @pixelcafe-network.