#tagging both arcs just in case

[brave-symphonia]

If I'm remembering correctly, it's been stated this took Nami 8 years of robbing pirates to earn this much money, and it's been said to be an amount of money that seems almost impossible to raise over her life.

So, 100 million berries is seen as an obscene amount of money, and it got me thinking of the Sabaody auction.

Like, they have twice this amount by then, twice what's seen as impossible to raise.

And they still get helplessly outbid so easily, the amount of money the Celestial Dragons have, that they can just waste on something so horrible and something they willingly will cast aside after just a few days, it's horrible to see.

Like, the Celestial Dragons are clearly meant to represent billionaires, and I feel like this really shows it when you compare that.

Once again, five times what is seen as a massive amount of money for someone to conceivably raise, that's seen as money they can just throw away on something the Dragons see as something to just be thrown away.

Couple that with the fact that this thing they'll throw away is a living being, the Celestial Dragons are honestly just horrible all around, I would be surprised if I met someone who sided with them.

I know this is far ahead of Arlong Park, but I worried I wouldn't really come back to it later on, so I had to get it out now.

[shima-draws]

Scrolling through the BNHA tag on AO3 and while it does make me very happy to see so many Aizawa + Izuku centric fics it also makes me sad bc WHAT ABOUT ALL MIGHT. I know canon has established how much Aizawa cares about his kids and Izuku specifically but Toshi loved him FIRST!! Toshi was the one to take Izuku under his wing and train him and care for him and help raise him and mentor him and LIVE for him despite everything telling him he couldn’t. And he was the one who refused to let Izuku go off on his own and did everything in his power to make sure he was at least eating and sleeping and being cared for despite being and feeling so powerless. Toshi’s such an important part of Izuku’s life and people need!! To address that more!! That’s his DAD!!!!

Anyway I see the ‘All Might bashing’ tag and immediately scroll past. I don’t trust you if you don’t love and appreciate Yagi Toshinori and his place in Izuku’s life like he deserves

[exiledelle]

undertale yellow spoilers under the cut (post is tagged but just in case people dont have it blocked or anyting and still dont want to be spoiled)

(also the image is horrible but in a "why would you do this" way not like Actually Bad dw)

yall, this is wild east, right? like this is normal, this is just how they are

[thedaythatwas]

what if I said arsonist’s lullaby by hozier was *the* akechi song? what if I also said it was *the* komaeda song? what then liberals?

[finelyagedlemons]

sometime after we finished playing aa4 together, my roommate had a dream about an alternate ending to the game involving phoenix stealing the actual david krisler letter from kristoph's cell, and kristoph subsequently hiring an assassin to take out apollo before it could be shown in court

[princekirijo]

Istg I actually need to sit down and write a proper bio for Riku because even I get confused af as to what his personality is sometimes.

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

every now and then I just get myself thinking about the different mirror reflection moments between Flourish and Regrowth AU, and the layers they both add to each other through fresh context.

in both AUs, Pirkko sustains a severe facial injury during the battle for Orr-- in Flourish it's on the right, and in Regrowth, the left.

however, in Regrowth she adamantly refuses to leave the battlefield in spite of her wound because she knows that the Pact has no substitute for her; if she falls back, they all get overrun. she keeps fighting and fighting until no Risen remain, and by then... the damage can't be repaired even by their finest menders. she loses her left eye, which is later replaced with a mechanical prototype implant. to the casual observer it looks like some sort of high-tech monocle, but no. she was just lucky to have such gifted doctors at her side.

in Flourish, though? when Pirkko tries to insist that they need her there, that she can't afford to pull out-- Saoirse and Ceara take the lead, reminding her that she doesn't have to take it all on alone. they're a team, and they have her back-- no matter what. they promise to hold the front while she gets medical attention... so she does.

as a result, her wound is actually repaired in time by the menders, and she doesn't lose her eye-- though she does have some visible scarring around it. at first Pirkko's a bit insecure about how noticeable it is, but with time... she comes to wear the scar proudly.

that battle was the conflict that cemented their roles as a team.

and that scar is a reminder of it; a lasting symbol of their unity.

but when you add the two together, that's where you get the full story of what this event is all about; in Regrowth, Pirkko shoulders every burden, every conflict, every battle, no matter how badly it damages her in the process. she hides her pain and buries it deep; the world needs her more than she needs it, she reasons. just as the 'monocle' hides the far more severe injury she sustained, Pirkko keeps her true nature that much more hidden-- not because she's ashamed of it, but because she doesn't want anyone to worry. she's the hero who protects Tyria, not the other way around. she'll keep going and going and going until she breaks, because no one else can.

but in Flourish there are others who can. she isn't alone. she doesn't have to shoulder all these burdens and struggles entirely on her own. that's the way it was meant to be, but Regrowth Pirkko will never know this. she has no idea that she wasn't built to withstand this much pressure, and no understanding for how badly it's breaking her. Flourish Pirkko wears this scar as a symbol because she's not afraid of who she is, and she's not afraid of the world seeing her, either. she's proud to have faced this much adversity and made it through.

in Flourish it's the first step towards their cohesion as a team.

but in Regrowth it's her first step towards closing everyone out.

[dawnslight-aegis]

and that's a wrap on my tarot series! the upright majors, at least. there may be others sometime in the future if I am seized by a combination of insanity and hyperfixation once again.

you might notice a few cards are a bit (or in the case of the fool and alternate chariot, a lot) different! I did a few retakes for consistency/style.

below the read more I've included a bunch of notes about symbolism and reasoning behind my choices if that interests you!

(tag for individual card posts)

0. The Fool: Ardbert was really the only choice for this one. He's our stand-in, our shard, our mirror. Feo Ul is included partially because of lore (they are my co-WoL's shard on the First) and also because they also fit the themes of adventure and new beginnings and exploration. Most of the cards I played pretty loose on the posing vs traditional depictions, but this one I wanted to hew a little closer, which is why he's on a cliff with a foot hanging over the edge a bit, with his axe standing in for the bindle. This is my second attempt at the card -- the first was in Il Mheg, but I moved it to Kholusia (Ardbert's home) and dawn to more closely symbolize that it's the beginning of something. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 8/10, posing Feo Ul was annoying.

1. The Magician: This card could have had several subjects, chief among them Alphinaud or a more modern G'raha, but I settled on Alisaie a) because the other two cards I had in mind for her (Chariot and Justice) were already taken, and b) the card's focus on physical magic and depicting the "tools of the trade" reminded me a lot of Angelo's creation! So that's why she's here, and why I set the card in Matoya's Relict, among the tools of magicians who came before (Matoya, Y'shtola). I retook the shot because I was unsatisfied with the blurriness/the way the light covered her face in the first one. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 5/10, simple pose but working with Impact's spell effect complicated things.

2. The High Priestess: Another that I never questioned who would appear on it. Y'shtola's arc is entirely about uncovering forbidden, secret knowledge and wisdom, so she fits beautifully. The blue-white orb and the purple staff depict duality between dark and light, and how Y'shtola walks in two worlds, seeing things that are beyond sight, standing before an altar/holy place to the Night's Blessed. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. Premade pose, knew where I wanted to place her -- the only thing was finding a prop for her off hand.

3. The Empress: Hoo boy did Minfi give me some trouble. I knew that I wanted our Antecedent, who provides both authority and care for the Scions, to represent the Empress, but I struggled to find a depiction that wasn't, well, boring. Minfilia is deeply linked with the Solar, and I didn't want to lean too hard into Word of the Mother/Hydaelyn territory, so I settled on a triple goddess-like idea. Attempts: 3. Difficulty: 6/10. Not mechanically difficult, just conceptually.

4. The Emperor: Another one that I knew who I wanted but struggled with the concept. Haurchefant is very much emblematic of the stability, structure, and masculinity provided by the Emperor, but it wasn't until I decided to add his equally-Emperor-coded father that things settled into place. Together, Edmont and Haurchefant evoke the image of father and son as well as king and knight, filling both major male authority roles that the Emperor exemplifies. Attempts: 4. Difficulty: 6/10. Same as the Empress.

5. The Hierophant: this one was one of the hardest to choose a subject for -- the WoL's allies are largely a bunch of revolutionary firebrands, and I disagree HEAVILY with the popular choice of placing Aymeric here. So I landed on Alphinaud -- out of the Scions, he is the one most concerned with tradition and the "right" way to do things, with formal education and structure. He wants to bring Sharlayan into the modern day, not upend the institutions that raised him and that he very much still respects, much like how he still respects his very traditionally Hierophant-coded father. So I placed him in his family home with a sort of smug look since he can be a pretentious little shit sometimes (affectionate). The spell effect is from Kardia, and I paid special attention to having the shapes align perfectly with the lines in the background, to give a sense of stability and order to the shot, especially contrasted with Alisaie's more dynamic and chaotic depiction. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 4/10, entirely in alignment.

6. The Lovers: Hrasevelgr and Saint Shiva are a great choice for depicting the Lovers as two people, but no one does the Lovers in one subject better than Ysayle. Invoking the spirit of a woman who died for love in order to bring harmony to her people, but it truly being her own power and her own choice the whole time... it's great. Her pose is her transformation/summoning pose, turned into a gesture of affection, which I was particularly proud of. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 3/10, posing monsters is always a little funky.

7. The Chariot: This one has two options -- my co-WoL, Marz, and Tataru/Cid/Nero for the NPC variant. All 4 characters share a singular drive and refusal to let anything stop them once they've set their mind to something, and the 3 NPCs have the added benefit of being associated with a literal "chariot" in the form of airship design. Marz's place on Shadowkeeper has some lore associations (Cylva is her shard on the 13th) as well as being a void mirror to Kaede's sin eater shot. For both I wanted to have dynamic poses to evoke the activity of the card. Attempts: 1 (Marz), 2 (NPCs). Difficulty: 3/10 for both, no major hurdles once the lovely @/karoiseka pointed me at an airship in NG+.

8. Justice: The heart of the Justice card is its emphasis on truth, and no character in FFXIV is more committed to truth even in the face of great suffering than Aymeric de Borel. Because of this, the shot is taken at the top of the Vault, where he confronted his father over his concealment of the truth of the Dragonsong War. The card is usually depicted with a woman holding a sword and balanced scales -- Aymeric is holding his sword in a pose used in statues in the Pillars, and the symmetry of the shot/light and shadow split down the middle is meant to give the feeling of balance. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 1/10. I knew my concept, location, and shader before I even went in, and it came out exactly like I wanted.

9. The Hermit: Originally I had Urianger for this card, who still fits well, but when I moved him to Wheel of Fortune, there was a clear second choice: The Exarch. He even resembles the Hermit, with his cloak and staff, holding himself in isolation and possessing secret knowledge with which he guides the party. G'raha has grown out of this role as of Endwalker, but the Exarch fits it to a tee. I wanted to show his longing to return through his body language and reaching out for the portal that shows him the world he is set apart from. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 4/10. Nothing major but did have to do two entirely separate cards lmao.

10. The Wheel of Fortune: The one I struggled with the most, conceptually. At first I had a more abstract choice, with the 3 starting city state leaders and Tataru, in a sort of "fate leads to the Scions" idea. But then I remembered that Urianger is a fortune teller who uses a wheel-like weapon with a literal wheel of cards, and, well. Yeah. The man is intimately associated with fate and choice, and the choice to place him on the moon is intentional, to separate him from his more secretive depictions in HW/ShB. He is the one who prepares our second option (flight) while giving us the choice to make our first (fight). Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 7/10. He's up on a high ledge that's not normally accessible and that's always a pain in the ass.

11. Strength: The one that started it all. The original shot of Kaede contained some layer elements I wasn't happy with so I ended up retaking it to better cohere with the others. Strength is about confidence and inner strength "leashing" power, symbolized by the woman and the tamed lion, and there's exactly one good lion model in XIV -- Forgiven Cruelty. It also has the fun side meaning of Kaede conquering and wielding the light that almost killed her. For Moenbryda's, I went with something simple -- her axe to symbolize her strength, but with her archon mark and the Sharlayan Thaliak statue prominently featured, emphasizing her intelligence. Attempts: 2 (Kaede), 1 (Moenbryda). Difficulty: 6/10. Kaede's was straightforward enough (though I had to wait an annoyingly long time for the sky to shift colors correctly), but Moenbryda's involved me floating her up on a building so i could get Thaliak in the shot correctly.

12. The Hanged Man: Holy moly this one was a PAIN IN THE ASS. I knew from the minute I started this what I wanted to do with it -- Lahabrea holding Thancred's ankle as he reaches for Minfilia. The Hanged Man is one that I felt it was especially important to mimic the iconic pose on the card, and this was how I decided to do it, but it took me over an hour and a half to accomplish. Anyway, the Zodiark idol stands in for the Tree of Life, which I really liked. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 10/10. Absolutely infuriating to have to pose 3 actors in three dimensional space like that.

13. Death: I only ever considered Estinien for this card. It stands for transformation and change, for shedding the old to make way for the new, and I chose to depict that by having his old corrupted drachen mail posed behind him like a shadow or an abandoned husk. He has left the hate and the rage behind, but the helmet is meant to symbolize that he always remembers it, and carries it with him so that he can do better. His lance is also vaguely reminiscent of the traditional Death scythe. That spot in Coerthas is where he challenges you in the early DRG quests while controlled by Nidhogg, as well as being just visually striking. Attempts: 1, but it took a while. Difficulty: 9/10. The ground is very much not flat, the helmet is on a minion, and I had to change angles and locations a few times.

14. Temperance: I briefly considered Hythlodaeus here, but Krile fits very well. Calm, competent, but unsure of her own worth. I chose Eureka Hydatos both for its importance to Krile as well as its easily accessible water -- instead of pouring from a cup, Krile is looking at her reflection. This one came together so quickly and easily. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 1/10. In and out of Eureka in less than 20 minutes.

15. The Tower: Originally, before I reshuffled, G'raha was going to be the Tower simply because I didn't know where to put him, and I couldn't think of an ally who is ultimately a destructive force, but it always bothered me because he truly didn't fit. Meteion, though -- despite her innocence and unwillingness, is THE destructive force within Endwalker's story. This card had the highest hurdles -- I had to get 7 friends to help me queue for Endsinger and then leave, and I almost couldn't get my tools to load Meteion in properly. After that it was smooth sailing, however. I used the whole lockout timer, but this was only the 4th shot I took, and it's one of my personal favorites. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 4/10, purely for queuing.

16. The Devil: Addiction, obsession, and control -- Zenos was the only answer for this card. I included Zero as well, despite intending this to be a primarily 6.0 and earlier set, to represent the humans bound in chains to the Devil, using the way she's pinned between Zenos and the scythe to symbolize that she's trapped. Afterward I realized this exact shot and character choice would have also worked quite well for the Tower, as well, but I ultimately prefer the Devil for him. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 3/10. Came together surprisingly easily, despite the fact that I had to make Zero's hat touch pose myself.

17. The Star: Symbolizing hope and new life, I can think of no one better suited than Ryne and the Empty. Ryne herself was given her own new life when Minfilia passed on her power, and the ability to make her own destiny -- and she used that power to revitalize a barren wasteland. My first version of this shot had a photoshopped in central star, but I decided to revisit the concept with an in game effect for the star instead. Helios provided what I needed, with the fun extra benefit of some additional rainbows (happy pride!). Attempts: 3. Difficulty: 3/10. Nothing crazy beyond trying to find a good angle to get the star in the shot, as well as Eden and the rainbow crystal. Second attempt I messed up the framing and had to redo it again.

18. The Moon: The card of dreams, fear, anxiety, and secrets, Gaia is perfect here (and a lovely companion to Ryne as the Star), though I did briefly consider Urianger as well. I wanted to have Gaia on the sand, with the moon hanging between the crystal walls of the Empty above her, but the angles would NOT cooperate to allow me to get the moon in the shot. So, levitation was the only answer. Fortunately it suits Gaia well, especially the distance that it evokes. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 6/10. I hate midair posing.

19. The Sun: Another card that sprang fully formed into my mind. Joy and fulfillment is symbolized by Lyse enjoying the morning light in a free Ala Mhigo, thinking of Papalymo. It also allowed me to get both of these very different characters into a single card, as they are very much a package deal, though I did consider Papalymo for the Hierophant as well. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. Came together very quickly.

20. Judgement: The last two cards of the Major Arcana are very high concept, with very lofty ideals, so they felt hard to pin down. I thought of doing both my WoLs here, or maybe Elidibus with his three forms for light, dark, and balance. But ultimately I ended up on Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus, as the sort of "final judgement" before the battle with the endsinger, the last step before everything ends. Their literal rebirth, the resolution of Emet-Selch's conflict with the WoL, the not-redemption but understanding reached, our efforts judged worthy -- it all just seemed to fit. The card design is simple but I hope the colors and emotion of the scene carry the weight of the arcana. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. No major roadblocks.

21. The World: At last we arrive at the end, not only the last posted but the last taken as well. I always knew I wanted Venat/Hydaelyn for this card, as she is the literal heart of our world, as well as an Azem who has reached the end of her journey, as Ardbert was one who was at the beginning of his all the way back at the Fool. But when I didn't use Elidibus anywhere else, I decided to add him here as well, since he also served as the heart of the star for a time. Light and dark united together, watching over Etheirys. The one who destroyed our world in order to save it, and the one who saved our world only to try to destroy it. Perfect symmetry, a completion of the circle. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 9/10. I had to stitch together 3 separate screenshots in photoshop, with the fore and backgrounds cut apart so I could control the opacities separately. Probably the card that took me the longest, but it was worth it.

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

@orathearsonman

im LAUGHING so hard rn bc it didn't occur to me, but you're so right reed would milk it SO HARD

reed is fainting swooning and coughing so loudly that he doubles over pathetically, while tesilid is just standing there like 🧍👁️ 👁️ trying to force his own coughs into something as close to a soft mewl as he can

Reed/Ai hanahaki au. send post.

[genderkoolaid]

Just saw a post on my dash claiming you're a terf psyop because some terf on Twitter has the same username as you. I just wanted to warn you in case you haven't seen it yourself. You two having the same name is the only evidence given in the post. Nothing else. And I frankly don't believe it for a second. But other people are spreading this and seem to be accepting it as the truth. And I think it's messed up, and I'm worried about you. You don't have to respond to this at all btw; I just wouldn't have felt right about seeing this and not telling you.

Well this is wild lmao. I'm presuming both of these are talking about the same person.

—

—

Obviously that is not me. Mostly because I am not in fact a TERF (or from the UK). I chose "genderkoolaid" to be ironic because transphobes use that phrase.

But also because, if I was a TERF psyop, why in the world would I use the same URL for both my secret evil psyop account and my blatant TERF account?

She seems to have developed an entire conspiracy theory around transandrophobia in which she starts with the idea that everyone who talks about it is a secret TERF, and works backwards to twist anything anyone ever says into being proof of her conspiracy:

—

^ Her pinned post is... something!

Anyone can find the worst posts in the transandrophobia tag and use it as proof the whole thing is transmisognistic, because obviously transmisogyny remains a widespread problem and no space or group is exempt. But she doesn't even use those, really. Any post that talks about how transmascs suffer from misogyny, or just suffer in general, is apparently saying trans men are women and should detransition.

It's wild that she seems to understand that radical feminism relies on this man bad/woman good binary, AND that TERFs target trans men for conversion therapy, but does not seem to understand that... this is not that?

It's only somewhat included in the first screenshot, but the third image in that trio is an image with Joan of Arc which many of you have probably seen:

... which does nothing but contrast claims about masculinity with a person whose murder was justified because of their invalid masculinity. But of course, by masculinity we must REALLY mean... cis womanhood! That makes sense!

She also apparently believes that me describing myself as FTMTX is code for me being a detransitioner:

—

Like, this is genuinely just conspiracism & exorsexism. She seems one step away from claiming TMRAs are all Satanists kidnapping children.

To give her credit for one thing, though: She tags these as "broeddels" which, while useless as a term, is a very good pun.

Don't harass this person, primarily because harassment is bad but also because it seems like she is not in the best space and is obsessing over this as a result.

& if you want to actually support trans women, consider raising awareness of Rue, a Black teenage trans girl who recently survived a stabbing in Houston.

[kopfkino-o]

Three Sisters: The Beacons of Change

Been a minute since I yapped on the internet and I’m bored on a long layover so here we go! A few housekeeping items before we dig in:

This post is pro Nesta, Feyre, and Elain. I love them all.

Some of the discourse involves pro-Elriel ramblings. This post is largely about Elain herself, so I’ll be including her general tag in this post, but wanted to make note of the Elriel discourse in case that isn’t your cuppa.

A huge shoutout to @jasmineandcedar and @nikachansstuff for the inspiration on this post. Their post/comment largely inspired this.

My thoughts are never coherent and all of this is just my opinion. Also I didn't edit this whatsoever lmao.

If any of these things aren’t for you, no worries, but peace out Girl Scout, keep on keeping you're peace. If you're interested and ready to read more then let's get on into it!

One interesting theme I picked up on within the ACOTAR series is change. More specifically, inciting change on not only a personal level, but also on the societal level. And I’m of the mind that each sister is meant to spark some sort of change, both within themselves as they get their healing arc, but also within the greater Prythian society as they come into power.

Let’s start with Feyre darling.

The First High Lady

Before Feyre came to Prythian, before her story, there were no High Ladies. Or at least the history of them were lost to society as we learned in the CC3 series. Females were not welcome to the role of 'High Lady'. They were not equals to the High Lords, even as their mates.

But with Feyre’s rebirth, with her sacrifice as the Curse Breaker, she rose to power in a way that changed fae society. She was the first High Lady. And we can see that this change spread with Viviane becoming the High Lady of Winter.

Feyre, as a monarch, represents ruling power. The power to command. She is the Crown. And with her character arc she brought change to Prythian in that she opened the door for other High Ladies to take their thrones. She challenged the misogynic lens on which Prythian viewed political leaders and proved that women can have their own political power.

The Valkyrie Reborn

Before Nesta, before her being Made, the Valkyries were lost to the world. The systems in place, largely those in Illyria as we saw in the forefront of her novel, believed women couldn’t be warriors. That they were lesser, weaker.

But with Nesta’s healing, and the revival of the Valkyries alongside Emerie and Gwyn, she challenged this. A challenge that was overcome in the Blood Rite.

With Nesta, she proved that women can have physical power. That they can be warriors. She brought about the rebirth of the Valkyries: an all female army. She challenged yet another societal (and misogynistic) standard within Prythian.

The Bondbreaker

Warning: Pro-Elriel content below

Like her sisters, I think Elain Archeron will also challenge an aspect of Prythian society. But the way she changes society and challenges it will be different than that of her sister's. Like Elain's personality, I believe her own defiance will be softer. Rooted in the heart and emotions.

But damn will it be a choice that radiates through the narrative.

As it stands in Prythian, mating bonds are sacred. Holy. They’re something not to be questioned, no matter what. As we learn from Rhys, some mates aren’t even true matches in spirit, but the bond is regarded so highly that females accept it any way, despite what they want for themselves for their lives. For their hearts.

Tamlin's parents and Rhysand's own mother and father are excellent examples of mated pairs who aren't "true pairings of souls". And I'd argue that SJM introduced these pairings to the narrative as a way to hold a mirror up to Elain's own mating bond.

I believe Elain will challenge this societal standard by rejecting her mating bond. Autonomy and freewill is a huge theme with her character and rejecting the bond would be the culmination of this. More of my yapping on this can be found here.

Elain's choice would also be a sign to other females with unwanted bonds that they too have a choice. That the bonds don’t always know best. That perhaps the Cauldron doesn't always know best. Elain’s rejection of the bond would spark change in Prythian, just like her sister’s arcs sparked change.

Note: Yapped a bit about the lore drops in CC3 and the implications of it in my post here. I personally believe there's two forces warring in the Cauldron (the Mother v. the Asteri's corruption) and believe it raises some interesting implications...

The TLDR: Each Sister is a Beacon of Change

Feyre, the monarch, challenged the system surrounding females in positions in power. With her, the role of High Ladies was reborn and the stigma in Prythian surrounding female leaders was fought.

Nesta, the warrior, challenged existing systems surrounding the strength and validity of female warriors. Through her, the Valkyries were reborn.

With Elain, I theorize that she'll lead a quieter rebellion. But one long overdue. She'll challenge the issue of fate, of the Cauldron's eddies and the Mother's will, over the heart. She'll challenge the heart. The bond. And stand in defiance of it.

okkk bye!

[konigbabe]

steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

[hirazuki]

HEY

HEY OP

How dare you hide the best part in the tags ♡

damn remember when ichigo went full hollow and orihime was terrified of him but when ulquiorra, someone she has only known as a hollow and kidnapped her by threatening to murder all her friends and spent her whole imprisonment intimidating her, asked her if she was afraid of him she said she wasn't

🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃

LIKE WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT????????

[tsams-and-co-memes]

Introducing….

….TSBS Ladies Appreciation Month!

This is an event meant to show appreciation and love to the ladies of TSBS, both to the characters and their respective VAs! Female characters often get more hate and criticism than male characters, which isn’t cool, and I felt that the VAs deserve to know how much we value their work, and that a large majority of the fandom doesn’t take them for granted

The rules for this event are in the picture, but just in case it’s hard for anyone to read, the text says:

All ladies are fair game! This includes trans and gender-fluid characters, as well as lady characters who have male VAs (ex: Puppet and Monty, when they’re in their female forms) and the female VAs themselves

Keep it PG, or PG13 at most! This month is about appreciating these girls, not making spice of them

Pieces can have characters that identify as anything other than female or gender-fluid in them, but the pieces themselves should be focused on the ladies

Mix and match these to your hearts content! There’s no need to do everything in this exact order

Have fun! :)

(Not included in the image) If one of the female VAs has a personal Minecraft series on their own channel, if they have OCs or a sona you know of, or if they stream, you can incorporate things from there as well. If you do this though, just make sure the piece stays mostly focused on TSBS

(Also not included in the image) If you do anything for any of these prompts, use the tag “TSBS ladies appreciation month 2025”, that way we can find everyone’s work :)

I’ll post the prompts under a cut as well, for anyone who needs that!

Favorite episode/video they’re in

Favorite moment of theirs

Favorite arc of theirs

Favorite quote/line of theirs

Favorite friendship they have with another lady

If you could give them a gift, what would it be?

Upgraded body

Upgraded or new outfit

Them with a different color scheme

Based on song lyrics

The VA meets a character they voice

Their favorite food

New job

They meet your self insert/OC

Create a candy/food themed off of them

Body swap w/ another lady

Outfit swap w/ another lady

Them as a fantasy/mythological creature

Vacation

Mall trip

Them as royalty

Costume party

If they were a different model (ex: Earth as a Ballora model, Roxy as a Puppet model, etc)

Spa day

Put them into a meme

Baking day

Girls night out

If they were evil

Comfort item

Family

Freebie

If you have questions regarding any of the prompts or rules, feel free to ask :)

[doctorsiren]

So I said this in the tags of my last post, but then I went wacky and doodled up some pages of this other AU idea that stemmed from the idea of that comic I did

In this AU, Miles goes to Diego Armando’s office a few weeks after the Fawles trial. There is no cocky, arrogant, or smug air about him like there was during the trial and instead he seems really shaken and nervous. Diego’s like “hey what’s wrong?” And Miles is quiet but then says that he needs help. He tells Diego that he can’t get the image of Fawles’s suicide out of his head and that he has no one he can talk to about this. Diego asks about Miles’s mentor, but Miles says that there’s absolutely no way he could ever go to his mentor for help with emotional stuff because it would show “weakness” and he also isn’t comfortable with von Karma. To make a long story short (because I’ve thought so much about this), Miles ends up pleading with Diego to protect him from von Karma just in case he goes after him for switching sides to be a defense attorney. He knows that von Karma will see him as weak and a traitor for switching teams after a single case, but Miles can’t be someone he’s not. Diego points out that Miles seems to be trying to be who von Karma wanted him to be. So he asks Miles what he wants to be, and Miles responds by saying he wants to be his dad (just like in my 1985 animatic 😭).

So Miles decides to renounce prosecution. He rips off his cravat and throws it in the garbage in Diego’s office and declares that he’ll become a defense attorney. He also asks Diego is he could be his mentor to help him in both being better at defense law and also just being better with interacting with people.

He joins the Grossberg Law Offices and works alongside Mia and Diego to gather evidence on Dahlia Hawthorne, as he now too believes that she has done terrible things.

After Diego is poisoned, Miles freaks out because people just keep dying or getting hurt around him and it scares him. (Oh…baby boy just wait until Mia dies too-)

He takes the case to defend Phoenix, gets TERRIFIED when Phoenix eats the poison necklace, and then at the end, Phoenix was like “oh wow! You’re a defense attorney now?? Lmao when did that happen??” Bc he had been too busy simping over Dahlia. But Miles tells him that he should still pursue law so that they could work together and also so that Phoenix’s law classes and studying wouldn’t have gone to waste. So Phoenix becomes a lawyer and works with Miles and Mia at the Fey & Co Law Offices until she dies and then it becomes Edgeworth & Co Law Offices because he had been a lawyer for longer.

I like the idea that in this AU, Phoenix and Miles obviously have huge crushes on each other, but these idiots still refuse to acknowledge or admit it <3

Also :((( when Diego wakes up, he still goes on his whole antagonist arc as Godot, and Miles refuses to tell Phoenix the truth about who he is. See, I also like the idea that in this AU, Nick and Miles are still as cagey with their past and truths as they are in normal AA

As you can see, I am perfectly normal !! I think about ace attorney a very normal amount!! 🤭

[princesschimchim1325]

Would anyone be down with an au with dark and possessive! Dan Feng and Yingxing(or Blade, in this case) with sacrificial bride! Reader?

Like, it's an au wherein the xianzhou ships are just different kingdoms, and Dan Feng is the emperor of the luofu and Yingxing (who has now become Blade here) is his ex(?)husband bc Dan Feng turned him immortal. Baiheng lives bc I said so, Jingliu is still the sword champion and Jing yuan is the new general. Reader is from one of the other ships (kingdom in this case) and basically she's cursed and they threw her at Dan Feng when they heard he was single again to both get rid of her and be their spy (it doesn't work bc she immediately told her new husband about it bc she is wants to get rid of them too).

Dan Feng and Blade!Yingxing's relationship is... strained but bc Blade is one of his generals, they still work together (and sometimes have sex) but Bladie is either ignoring him or insulting him. They have been seperated for many decades by the time reader arrives.

Dan Feng and reader don't fall in love immediately but they have lukewarm relationship at the start. But they get closer with their little acts of service towards one another and sparring sessions that often leaves Dan Feng hot and wanting (horny). Then they get even closer when they tell stories from their childhoods that often leads to laughter filling Dan Feng's office.

Blade and reader have a.... complicated relationship at first. Reader knows that Dan Feng had a husband before her but doesn't know it's Blade. Blade knew she was the new wife and tried to ignore her but they just somehow always run to one another. Reader always trying to heal him and to get him to rest and Bladie trying to avoid her. But not even Bladie can resist the cursed allure~ of reader-chan.

What I mean is, they sparred once (1) and he's been horny since lmao. XingYue being battle sexuals, we've been knew. They also have a heart to heart moment of reader calming his mara ('Jean grey x Logan" ahh moment) ('only she can calm the monster inside me' ahh moment)

Cursed! Reader is a lot like Nakime from Kny, her hair covering her eyes (maybe she has heterochromia?) and playing an instrument (the pipa). Very quiet and reserved but when she talks, is very sassy and has a sharp tongue.

Slow burn but not really, love triangle but in a poly way (as it should be), angst, maybe comedy? I got a lot of inspiration from Mulan and KnY's hashira training arc ngl. Of course, the fic includes smut.

Let me hear your thoughts on this. Those that wanna get tagged in this potential fic, please say so in the comments.