#Lightning-fast efficiency | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cressidagrey · 1 month

Text

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 5

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings:

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Amren bashing, KITTENS!, Accidental Forest Burning?, Non graphic murder, Azriel is an idiot, Azriel's Mom is not having his idiocy and spends 3/4 of this chapter berating him (while being kinda a little bit unfair) and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Master.

Later! Azriel cut his shadows off sharply. He was somewhat busy right now.

It was harsh enough that the shadows actually shut up for once, which was startling in itself. But for the moment he didn’t think about it. Too busy with killing the leader of that Illyrian warband that had been destroying townships and temples left and right.

It was a clean kill, fast and accurate, and Azriel didn’t blink as he watched the male’s body drop at his feet.

The adrenaline was coursing through his veins, as he slowly took in a deep shaky breath, his hands clenching around the knife handle.

Then he turned to the cleanup. The other warband members were still in the camp where they had made a temporary base. Quick, clean and efficient. That’s how they were taught to operate. It’s why Azriel was so damn good at these types of missions.

At least two hours later, it was suddenly Rhys that was yanking at their mental connection, mental claws striking against his shields.

Azriel swore as he felt Rhys’s talons strike against his mental shields. What’s wrong? he demanded immediately. Something must have been wrong, otherwise Rhys would have been more careful with his abilities.

Amren cornered Eira, and Rhys spat out in answer.

WHAT?! he demanded in answer. His shadows immediately started writhing agitatedly behind him, as panic and alarm shot through his veins.

Amren had done that? Even after Rhys had warned her off?

Azriel should have fucking seen it coming. When Amren didn’t agree with her methods…she had her own.

How bad? Azriel asked tonelessly. How had Eira reacted? What had Amren said?

The mental silence stretched for a moment before he felt Rhys’s presence return, the High Lord’s voice now filled with fury. As we have no idea where Eira is right now...bad. She must have winnowed in her panic to get away from Amren.

Fuck.

Azriel was up on his feet in an instant, even as he felt his shadows swirl agitatedly around him. That…he needed to find her. He needed….

He could just imagine what Amren must have told Eira…Amren who had never learned how to soften her word and who he didn’t trust as far as he could throw her. A sinking feeling was already beginning to form in Azriel’s stomach.

Eira could have winnowed anywhere in Prythian. She could be in enemy territory right this second. He didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if Autumn Court got their hands on her, if…

She must be utterly terrified. And the thought of Eira…scared….

Panic and worry flared through his veins, as his shadows writhed even more furiously behind him. He needed to find her, find her and make sure she was safe, safe and sound and away from anything that might make her feel scared. He would not let anything hurt her. Not now, not now when he had just gotten her.

She's in Illyria, his shadows snapped. Which we would have told you if you didn't tell us to shut up, Master!

Godsdamnit.

Azriel cursed, running a hand through his dark hair. Of course, she was in Illyria. Of all the places…Illyria.

Azriel? Rhys questioned.

The shadows know where she is, he responded sharply. I get her.

Good. There was now a sharpness to Rhys’s voice, even through the mental link. Azriel could almost hear the order that remained unsaid. Get her and bring her home.

And Azriel? Whatever you need to do to make sure she’s safe, Rhys said sharply.

She will be. There was a silent promise in his voice. Azriel would ensure it. He would not let anything or anyone hurt her.

Do not let Amren anywhere near me, Azriel said evenly, his voice promising cold death. If they did, he was going to rip her apart from limb to limb.

Agreed. We will take care of it. Rhys’s voice was as cold as Azriel’s, and the Illyrian could practically feel the anger radiating through the mental connection.

And then he let the shadows take him, let him take him wherever his mate was…

They threw him right through the wards that protected Rosehall.

Somehow that was the most shocking thing of it all.

The wind in lower Illyria was cold, the trees silent and still in the darkness. She hit a few trees with lightning, his shadows supplied quietly. Scorched them. No fire though.

That was not what he had wanted to hear. No fire, that was a small comfort. But the lightning? The fact that she had used her magic? It did not bode well.

We led her to your mother. She took care of her, his shadows assured him quietly.

That was a small comfort, but a comfort nevertheless. His mother was good at soothing, and that seemed to be exactly what his mate had needed. Especially after the panic that she must have been in. The fact that it had been triggered by Amren was an entirely different issue. Azriel would deal with that later.

Eira first. Eira was his first priority.

The entire Hamlet seemed to be sleeping, the only sounds coming from the surrounding forest. Azriel crept in as quietly as he could, trying not to rouse the villagers. He made his way to his mother’s home, his shadows still writhing restlessly around him as they searched for Eira.

He didn’t bother to knock. Azriel just went up to the door and quietly pushed it open.

"Azriel." He froze. His mother was sitting in the living room, knitting. She fixed him with a look out of hazel eyes, and for just a moment he felt about 5 years old again. She looked towards the couch with a pointed look and he followed it.

There she was. Eira. Curled up on the couch underneath a thick woollen blanket, asleep.

He could nearly taste the relief.

"Don't wake her," his mother said, her voice quiet and fierce. "We'll talk in the kitchen."

Azriel nodded silently, his eyes still on the female lying on the couch.

She looked tired, exhausted. The paleness of her skin was nearly translucent in the dim lighting, making her look like porcelain. She had curled up on the couch, a woollen blanket thrown over her, hiding most of her body. And she looked so damn small. So breakable.

It took all of his willpower not to rush to his mate, to pull her into his arms and comfort her.

Azriel had to forcibly pull his gaze away from her. Instead, he turned his eyes to his mother and the pointed, steely look she sent his way. He nodded stiffly, before making his way silently into the kitchen.

Azriel was met with a sharp frown from her, as he walked into the kitchen.

His shadows were still writhing agitatedly behind him, while Esmeray’s dark eyes studied him in silence.

If only he could figure out what that look meant. Her eyes scanned his form, as if silently checking if he were hurt, before she let out a small sigh and gestured for him to sit.

"Is there a particular reason why you didn't tell me that you found your mate?" his mother asked him, crossing her arms.

Azriel’s eyes instantly flicked back to the open door to the living room, making sure Eira was still asleep, before he returned his eyes to his mother, meeting her intense gaze with his own.

He had to hold back a flinch. She was angry.

“Because it just happened,” Azriel finally said, his voice as calm and flat as he could manage.

"It happened two weeks ago, according to your mate," his mother said drily. "Your mate, who I didn't know was your actual mate, and who some of my first words to were how sad it was that her twin sister wasn't mated to you!" she hissed.

Azriel winced at her words, silently cursing himself.

He really should have written his mother another letter. Or even gone to visit her. But he had been so busy with trying to wrap his own head around it that he had just…not thought about it.

And he had also been quite sure that his mother would have thoughts about him being mated to the twin sister of the female he had waxed poetically to her about.

How was he supposed to respond? Should he apologize for not telling her? For the fact that she had to find out from Eira? But judging by the sharp glare from his mother, any argument he made would be useless. Instead, he slumped into his chair.

“I am sorry,” he said quietly. “I…I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Esmeray’s eyes narrowed, studying her son with a look that told him she was not happy with that answer.

“I would have thought that something as important as you having found your mate would be one of the first things to come out of your mouth,” she said coldly. “Instead, I find out two weeks later, and not from you.”

He grimaced.

"I find out from your mate after she stumbles into my living room, looking like she just came from Hel and back! After she accidentally winnowed! And killed some trees with lightning of all things! And then, THEN she cries all over my kitchen table because she has been in love with my SON she even became fae, while she was still human but he preferred her twin sister over her. Her twin sister who is apparently a Seer has been manipulating her visions from becoming true. And then the mating bond snapped for you and instead of begging your mate on your knees for forgiveness, all she brings out is that you want to TRY!" Every word his mother said was like a sharp blow to the stomach. Azriel just stared at her, his eyes wide, as he took in the information.

His mind was spinning, as he silently took in her words and the implications of them. Eira…Eira had been in love with him before she was even Fae?

“She was…she said that she was in love with me?” he brought out in a whisper.

"That's what you concentrate on?" his mother snapped.

Azriel snapped his mouth shut, flinching at the note of cold anger in her voice.

“No…no it’s not,” he said quickly, his hands clenching around the fabric of his pants. “It’s just-“

He didn’t know what to say. His mind was still spinning, trying to take in the fact Eira had been in love with him before the Cauldron…before…

"It's just?" his mother asked him, her voice icy.

Azriel floundered his thoughts and emotions in a spin.

“I…I just…” he swallowed nervously, his mind grasping desperately for the right words to say. “I didn’t know she…”

How was he supposed to say that he had somehow preferred Elain over Eira? That he hadn’t even seen the fact that his mate was in love with him before she became Fae?

His shadows writhed agitatedly behind him, their agitation only increasing at his distress. Esmeray, who was sitting across from him, was also watching him like a hawk. The intense look in her eyes made it clear how very close he was treading to her wrath.

“You didn’t notice?” she repeated, her eyebrows raising as she spoke. “That your own mate loved you? Are you blind?” she spat out. Azriel flinched, his hands clenching into tight fists.

“I didn’t…I never saw…”

He had really been that blind, hadn’t he? All this time he had never noticed. Not once. He had been so focused on Elain, blind to the fact Eira had been right there all along.

"That girl...that girl adores you," his mother hissed quietly. "Your shadows dote on her and she lets them touch her without even flinching once, Azriel. You can consider yourself lucky that she is even willing to give you the time of the day anymore. She had every right to ignore you for preferring her twin sister of her!"

Azriel winced again, as a silent pang of guilt shot through his heart.

He knew she was right, damn it. He knew he had absolutely no right to ask her to even give him the time of day, not after he so easily had chosen Elain over her.

“I don’t deserve her,” he whispered, his voice quiet.

"No, you don't. Not with how you have been behaving," his mother shot back. "Do you even like her or are you only courting her because she's your mate?"

Azriel flinched hard at her words.

It was like a blow to the stomach, and a dagger to the heart. Gods. Did his own mother think he was so….so callous, so heartless that he was only with Eira because she was his mate?

"I do," he said quickly, the words practically tumbling out. "I do like her."

He was terrified by the fact that his own mother even thought he would be so cruel as to be with someone he didn't care about, just because of the bond.

"Gods, I do like her, mother," Azriel repeated again, his voice firmer this time. "I…..I know I have not been treating her the way I should, and I...I know I don't deserve her. But I like her, mother. I like her and I want to be with her."

Esmeray studied her son, her eyes cold, before she let out a loud sigh and sat back in her seat.

“Good,” she said quietly, her eyes still fixated on him. “Then, what are you going to do about it? Because she deserves better, Azriel. She deserves everything, which is far more than you have given her so far.”

His mother's eyes roamed over his face, studying him like a hawk. Azriel could practically feel the weight of her gaze on his skin.

Finally, after a moment of quiet tension, Esmeray's lips flattened into a thin line, making it clear she was still displeased. "Have you told the poor girl that you actually want to be with her? That you don't just want to be with her because of the fact that she is your mate or because of whatever vision that sister of her was trying to keep from becoming true?!”

Azriel’s heart sank, the weight of her words pressing down on him.

No, he thought, his heart twisting at the thought. Gods, he had…..he had done nothing, absolutely nothing to convince her of the fact that he actually liked her.

He looked up at his mother, his eyes weary. "No," he said quietly, "I haven’t. When the mating bond snapped...she got hurt a day later...an attempt on the life of Rhys' son...she...she threw herself into a dagger so that Nyx wouldn't be hurt," Azriel recounted, the words sticking in his throat. "Rhys tried to take the pain from her...he accidentally got thrown into her memories. And we all..realised that we had been treating Eira abhorrently," Azriel said quietly. "And then we realised what Elain had been doing, what Elain had been keeping from us."

But the knowledge that Elain had attempted to sabotage her own sister's fate, that she had been manipulating Eira's visions...Azriel went silent, his throat tightening.

"...She...It was a vision she had...of Eira and me and...and of our children," he choked out.

His children with Eira. A future that could have been, if things had been different.

His light-haired, winged little girl, ran about and dug in the dirt.

How he wanted that. How he wanted to see them, see Eira and their little ones, surrounded by their family and friends…

Esmeray's eyes were wide, watching her son as realization dawned in her eyes. Azriel could feel her studying him as if trying to gauge his reaction.

He just stared down at the table, his eyes fixed on the smooth surface, the images of Eira and their children of his own flashing before his eyes.

Children. There would be children.

He would have a family with Eira.

And that Elain had tried to take that from them…it made him so utterly furious.

"When Eira was awake...I went to her and I apologised. I told her that Elain may was the pretty one but she was the kind one and that I knew that she would protect our children fiercely," Azriel said quietly. His hands clenched around the edge of the table, as he forced himself to continue. "And...and then I asked if she would let me court her. The human way, to show her that I meant it."

"You told your mate, hours of off being stabbed, that her twin sister was the pretty one?" his mother hissed.

Azriel winced again, his head hanging down.

He was going to be the biggest fool in Prythian, he was sure.

Gods, even saying it now, it sounded like the stupidest thing he could have said. Of course, it had been the wrong thing to say. Why in the world had he told his mate, who had just risked her life, that her sister was the pretty one?

His mother’s voice was cold. “Why in the name of the Mother did you think that was the right thing to say to your mate? That her twin sister, the one who has been manipulating her own vision, tried to keep your children from you, is the prettyone?"

Azriel flinched at the icy words.

He knew his words had been the wrong ones. He knew that he had said the worst thing he could have said at that moment. But in that moment, all he could think of was that he had always been so blinded by Elain. Blinded by her beauty. Blinded by a pretty face and a veneer and had never seen what lay behind it…

And then there was Eira. Just as beautiful but in a different way. Elain was immediately…blinding. Eira…she snuck up on him. Eira was beautiful but quiet. A quiet sort of realisation, like the moon rising at night, until everything was bathed in her light.

And still…Still, he had said those words out loud. To his mate.

"I am shocked that she even agreed to let you court her after that," his mother said with a snort. "She ought to have hit you atop the head and told you to come back to her when you were willing to actually compliment her. Besides, that's the bestyou could come up with, son?! Her twin is pretty but your mate is kind and would protect your children fiercely? Of all the characteristics, all the abilities she has, that's what you land on?!"

Azriel winced again, clenching his jaw so hard it hurt, as his mother's words rang out in the small room. She was right. Of all the things he could’ve chosen to say, all the things that he could have pointed out, he had gone with that?

Azriel slumped down in his chair. Gods, what had he been thinking?

Esmeray watched her son for another moment, her eyes roaming over his defeated form before she let out a quiet huff. “You really are a fool, aren’t you, my son?" she said, her voice softer than before. "A total and utter fool."

Azriel closed his eyes, hanging his head down.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I am a total fool who does not deserve my mate and probably won’t until I have grovelled enough and apologized a hundred times.”

His mother let out a low hum, her eyes still fixed on him. “You certainly do not," she said darkly. “But if the girl is willing to give you a chance, even after you have acted like an imbecile of a male…you best make sure you try your hardest. And start grovelling now.”

"I am sorry, " he apologised.

His mother snorted. "You don't owe me an apology. Unless you count it for not writing to me and telling me what exactly is going on in your life," His mother said drily. "I am not angry, just disappointed."

Azriel’s stomach churned at my mother’s words.

That was even worse. Azriel flinched, looking up and meeting her icy gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, quieter this time. “I am sorry that I have disappointed you, mother. I am sorry that I have not written.”

His mother’s eyes softened slightly at his words. “You’re my son. And I love you and am proud of you and what you have become. But I won’t have you acting like a total fool, not when that poor girl has had such a terrible life,” she said, her voice gentler than before. “You will not hurt her. You will prove to her that you want her for her, and not only because she is your mate. Is that clear?”

Azriel nodded, his throat tight.

“It’s clear,” he said quietly.

The shame and guilt twisted in his stomach, but he forced it down. He had been an idiot. A fool and an idiot, in denying not only what his heart truly desired, but also in the way he had acted towards Eira.

He wanted- Gods, he wanted her. And he wanted to prove it. Wanted to be a better male and a better mate. Wanted to earn her trust, her affection, her love.

His mother watched him for a moment, seeming to search his face, before she nodded, satisfied.

“Good. You better not keep me in the dark about your life, my son. And you better treat that girl properly from now on,” she said, her voice still stern before the soft, gentle look returned to her eyes. “And I want to see her. You bring her to dinner with you the next time you come, and I will judge for myself that you are treating her properly.”

The corners of Azriel’s mouth twitched, almost in a smile. “I will,” he promised, a little easier now. “I will bring her the next time I come.”

And he would bring her. He would bring her and his mother would see that he was trying to court Eira properly. He would prove to his mother, to his friends and even to Eira herself, that he didn’t want to be with her just because of the bond. That he wanted her. Wanted her for her.

"Now, what exactly does a human courtship even entail?" his mother asked him. “I imagine it’s not like the Illyrian way.

No, it really wasn’t. The Illyrian way was bloody, and violent and involved more than one display of strength.

Maybe that would have been easier for him, Azriel thought weakly. He would gladly go hunt a hundred rabbits and have the fur fashioned into a cloak…Somehow that was easier than the Human way.

“Well…it’s traditionally the male who does the majority of the courting,” he said after a moment of pause. “He…ah…he spends time with the female, takes her out on dates to different places to get to know her, brings her gifts… that sort of thing.”

His mother’s eyes were fixed on him, studying him like a hawk. "How many times have you done that?" she asked, her voice dry. "Spent time with her, taken her out to the human way of dates, brought her gifts?"

"For the very first gift, I gave her a harp," Azriel said softly. "We had lunch together once or twice. Then I brought her flowers when we went to the symphony."

“A harp and some lunch and flowers,” his mother repeated quietly. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve done so far, to woo your mate?”

Azriel felt his face flush again, under her disapproving gaze.

“…yes,” he admitted, his head dropping down slightly.

"It's a start, I suppose," his mother said drily. “A very poor one,” she muttered under her breath.

Azriel’s cheeks flushed once again in shame, at yet another jab from his mother.

"How did you come up with a harp of all things in the first place?" his mother asked him.

"Nesta told me she used to play. Then her family fell on hard times and they had to sell it," Azriel explained.

"And you bought her a replacement harp," his mother said, a slight note of incredulity in her voice. "You didn't think that might, I don't know, bring bad memories to the surface? Remind her of the poverty she had to endure?"

He opened his mouth to respond and then froze. No. No, he hadn't even thought about that. Not once.

"She liked it," he said, slightly defensive. She had liked it...right? She had kissed his cheek, she had thanked him, she had told him that that was the most thoughtful gift anybody had ever given her.

His mother let out a small, disapproving huff.

“Of course she liked it,” she muttered. “Any gift from you she would have liked!”

At his mother’s words, Azriel’s heart sank.

Of course, Eira had liked the harp. He had given it to her, after all. He was her mate. And she was kind, to the point that she probably would have thought whatever he gave her was the greatest gift in the world.

He was being a fool again. He had given her a gift that had brought up terrible memories of her past, without ever thinking of the consequences.

“And how did you even have a lunch with her?” his mother asked, shaking him out of his thoughts. “Did you...did you go into the city to dine with her at some restaurant?”

His cheeks flamed again, his head dropping lower at his mother’s questions.

“No,” he muttered. “We had lunch at the River House with everybody else.”

He could feel his mother’s disapproval without her even saying anything. He didn't even need to look at her face to know the disappointment that would be on it at his answer.

“You ate lunch with her in front of the entire Inner Circle,” his mother stated, her words blunt. “And you thought that counted as a date?”

Her question made Azriel wince, because when she said it out loud like that...it sounded so obvious. "We did go to the symphony with Cassian and Nesta," he defended himself.

His mother let out a sceptical huff.

“Because there is nothing more romantic than sitting around in silence for 3 hours!” his mother snapped. “Have you ever had a proper conversation with her, Azriel?! What are her hobbies?" his mother asked with a sigh. "Can you even tell me that?"

"She's a seamstress, like you," he answered quietly. "She takes commissions from the alterations tailor in Velaris to make some money, and she makes dresses for her sisters. She also likes to bake and cook and she gardens for vegetables.”

"Are that her actual hobbies, or just the chores she prefers to do?" his mother asked him drily. Azriel winced at his mother's words, because...gods, were those Eira's actual hobbies, or just the chores she preferred to do?

His mind reeled at the thought. He knew she took commissions, and he knew she cooked and gardened, but was that what she preferred to do? Or was it simply just chores? Chores that he had never thought to ask to learn if those were what she truly enjoyed?

Was it just what she had done at the cottage? And then continued in the Night Court for lack of other options?

That—gods, that possibility chilled Azriel to the bone and made him feel so ashamed. Had he never even bothered to ask her what she liked to do, aside from what she had done to help her family?

His mother let out another small huff, reading his expression. "You never asked her, did you? You never even bothered to ask if those were her hobbies, or if those were just things she had done out of necessity?”

"She embroiders the things she makes. That's not out of necessity, right?" he asked weakly.

His mother studied his face for a moment, her expression stern as though she was seeing right through him before she finally sighed.

“No, I suppose not,” she conceded after a little while. “And do you know what her favourite colour is?”

Azriel froze at his mother’s unexpected question.

Her...her favourite colour? He was stunned into silence, the realization that he didn’t even know as simple a thing as Eira’s favourite colour suddenly hitting him like a punch to the gut.

“You don’t know her favourite colour, do you?” his mother said, her voice flat. It was more of a statement than a question.

Azriel winced, his silence an answer.

Gods, what kind of mate was he? He hadn’t even bothered to ask any simple questions, like what her hobbies were, or what her favourite colour was. Even something as basic as what her favourite food was, or her favourite time of day, or her favourite place in all of Velaris…he had never bothered to ask her any of those simple, basic questions. He had only assumed.

"You don’t know your own mate’s favourite colour. You don't know what her actual hobbies are. You just know what she did to help her family when she was human. And you took her to the symphony without asking her if she even liked that sort of thing, without even asking her when you are supposed to talk to her and spend time with her and get to know her,” his mother said, her words biting. “Are you even trying to court her?"

The words struck Azriel like a dagger to the heart.

He had truly botched the entire thing, hadn’t he? He had botched every single part of courting her. He hadn’t asked her any questions at all. Not her favourite colour, or her favourite food, or her favourite time of day, or her favourite damn colour. He had taken her to the symphony, to a place she might not even have even liked, had assumed that she would just be fine and would still like it, and he hadn’t even thought of asking if there was anywhere better to take her.

“That was the most pathetic attempt at trying to woo your mate,” his mother said in a low grumble. “That wasn’t attempting to court her. That was you assuming what she might like, rather than asking her what she would actually be interested in doing. And you never even bothered to ask her if she actually enjoyed the times you spent together!”

Azriel closed his eyes as the words stung.

That...that was all true, wasn’t it? He had never thought to ask her a thing. He had just assumed, assumed, assumed, without ever making the attempt to check with her to see if she enjoyed herself or not.

He was an idiot. A stupid, careless, thoughtless idiot.

"You'll do better," his mother demanded.

Azriel nodded, his head hanging down.

He would. He had to. Or he wouldn’t be worthy of being her mate.

He was going to ask her everything about herself. Everything he didn’t even know. He would ask her what her hobbies were, and what her favourite colour was, and what her favourite food was…

He would ask, and he would get to know Eira.

Azriel. Feyre's mental touch and he let her in without a second thought. How is my sister?

Azriel's eyes closed as he felt Feyre’s presence in his mind, and he almost winced at her words.

She...is well enough. She is resting right now.

The silence that followed the mental communication stretched for only a moment, but to Azriel, it felt like an eternity of waiting, as Feyre pondered his words.

Amren...Amren said...some things to her... Feyre’s words came again, her voice laced with anxious worry even in his mind.

Azriel’s jaw clenched.

Damn it. Of course, Amren had said something to Eira. And of course whatever Amren had said...whatever things she had said…had hurt Eira.

Where did you find her?

My mother's house. The shadows brought here there

She’s at your mother’s house...? Feyre’s question came after a moment, her tone even more surprised and bewildered than it had been before.

We are coming, Rhys said softly into his mind.

His mother stared at him for a moment. "Rhys and Feyre are on their way," Azriel said quietly.

Azriel intercepted them at the door, keeping his voice quiet. Feyre was looking extremely anxious and Rhys’ face was taut with worry.

“Thank the Mother you’ve found her,” Feyre said first, rushing over to him, her eyes already darting around, looking for any sight of Eira.

They found her, still unmoving on the couch. Deep asleep.

Azriel could see both Rhys’s and Feyre’s shoulders visibly relax when they saw that Eira was asleep. But Azriel could tell from his high lord and lady’s eyes that they were both still worried.

“Is she…?” Feyre asked quietly, looking up at him with a worried frown. “Is she alright?”

Azriel stared down at Eira’s sleeping form, his chest aching at the sight.

"She's magically exhausted," his mother said calmly. "Rhysand."

The sound of his mother’s voice drew Rhys’s attention, and the High Lord raised his eyes to glance at her, a small smile on his face

"Esmeray," he responded, leaning down to hug her.

Azriel watched silently as his mother and the High Lord embraced each other, while Feyre continued to look between the two of them and Eira.

"You came quickly," his mother said to Rhys, pulling away from his embrace to look him in the eye.

"Of course," Rhys said quietly. "You wouldn’t be telling us our sister is here and expect us to take our time getting here, would you?"

“You know very well that I wouldn’t,” his mother said, her tone dry. “Now come. And don’t you two look at her like that. She is not harmed, nor wounded. She’s simply exhausted.”

"She was just hurt weeks ago," Feyre said quietly. "Badly hurt. She's still supposed to take it easy."

Azriel felt his muscles tense at Feyre’s words. The reminder…Azriel’s hands curled into fists as he remembered seeing Eira bleeding, bleeding profusely from the wound in her side. At seeing her grey skin…her laboured breathing…

You look...murderous, Rhys said into his mind

Murderous was too weak of a word, considering that Azriel wanted to personally hunt down and kill the fae that had dared to harm his mate again. He wanted to be murderous.

Ma had words with me. I fucked up, he admitted.

Rhys was studying him, his eyes sharp like he was reading every emotion in his head. But Azriel could see the slight sympathy in his gaze.

I’ll bet, Rhys said with a sigh. Your mother is brutal at times when she needs to be.

Brutal was an accurate word to use. Azriel had certainly felt the full brunt of his mother’s wrath. Still, he deserved it. He deserved every word she had said. And he would do better.

"Eira?" Feyre said suddenly, kneeling at her sister's side and Azriel's head snapped up to find her move slightly, a whimper coming from her lips.

Azriel held his breath as he watched Eira. Even exhausted as she was, she still looked so fragile, so soft. He wanted to go to her. He wanted to hold her, to reassure her that she was safe, to brush her long curls away from her face. But he kept still.

Feyre let out a soft gasp, reaching out to hold her sister’s shoulder, her touch gentle, as Eira’s head turned to the side, her eyes opening slightly.

"Eira," Feyre repeated quietly, gently squeezing her sister’s shoulder. "Can you sit up?"

Azriel watched as Eira slowly opened her eyes the rest of the way, her brows furrowing as she struggled to focus her eyes in the dim light.

"Fey..." she began weakly, her voice cracking as she struggled to sit up."I am sorry, Feyre," she whispered, wetting her bloodless lips.

Azriel’s heart ached as Eira struggled to sit up, and his hands fisted at his sides as he watched Feyre put a hand on Eira’s back to give her some support.

"No, you are not apologizing for anything," Feyre said firmly, shaking her head as Eira continued to struggle to move. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I didn't help you. I should have helped you. You were the youngest," Eira disagreed, her voice so weak. "I am sorry."

Azriel’s heart broke at Eira’s weak words, and his chest ached as though he wasn’t able to breathe.

Feyre’s hand continued to support her sister as Eira struggled to speak, until finally, Feyre spoke up before her sister could say anything else.

“You did nothing wrong, Eira,” Feyre insisted, her voice firm. “You did help. Yes, I hunted, but you cooked the meat. You did the laundry. You planted potatoes and carrots and sold whatever you canned and had left over. You made sure we had clothing to wear. You helped, Eira," she promised her.

But Eira’s eyes were still wide and miserable, filled with guilt and shame.

“It wasn’t enough,” Eira whispered. “I wasn’t enough.”

“You were enough,” Feyre promised her. “You did enough. You did the best you could. You did nothing wrong.”

"I don't want to be a weapon."

Azriel’s throat closed at Eira’s words, and Feyre’s eyes squeezed shut, her entire body going stiff even as she held back a sob.

“You are not a weapon,” Feyre said fiercely as she held her sister close. “You are not a weapon, do you hear me?”

"You will never need to be," Rhys said softly, placing a hand on Eira's hair. "It's alright. We won't make you be a weapon or a soldier or anything you don't want to be."

"All you ever have to be is our sister," Feyre continued in a slightly choked voice, stroking her sister's hair. "That is all you have to be. You do not have to fight or defend or be a warrior or anything like that. You don't. I promise you that you don't."

“Let's get you home," she said softly. "Let's go home, Eira."

Feyre began to pull Eira up from the couch, and Azriel moved instantly to offer support, going to Eira’s other side to help Feyre pull her older sister to her feet.

Her grey eyes blinked, seemingly suddenly realising that he was there. "Azriel," she whispered.

Azriel’s heart raced as Eira finally turned to look properly at him, and his heart twisted at the sight. She was pale. So pale. And she looked so fragile and exhausted, her eyes hollow. But it was her voice that nearly broke his heart — the way she had said his name. So softly. So quietly.

A demanding meow broke that moment, a white kitten clinging to Eira's legs.

Azriel’s jaw slackened briefly in surprise, as did Feyre, as they both looked down to see the little white kitten clinging to Eira’s legs.

From behind him, Azriel could hear Rhys’s stifled laughter.

His mother laughed out loud, clearly amused as she leant down to scoop up the wayward kitten. "It seems like she got quite attached to you," his mother said quietly. "You should let Azriel bring you back soon to play with her."

Eira’s grey eyes widened as his mother told her that — though whether it was from surprise or exhaustion, Azriel couldn’t tell.

“I…I would like that,” she said softly, her voice rough, and her words lit up something in Azriel’s chest. Something…warm.

Azriel’s mother gave Eira a long look, her head tilting.

“You are welcome. It is my honour and pleasure to get to know the young woman that my son has taken as a mate,” she said softly.

He was saved from having to respond by a shudder working through Eira's body.

Azriel’s eyes darted back down to Eira as he felt the shudder that went through her and he frowned in worry, his arm around her shoulders instinctively pulling her closer to him.

She was cold, he could feel it even through her clothes, her entire body like ice as she shivered in his arms.

"We should get going," Rhys said apologetically. "Thank you, Esmeray."

"You should come visit more often," Esmeray said drily. "And remind my son of actually keeping up with his correspondence for once."

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #the prophecy #Looked to the sky

409 notes · View notes

velteris · 7 months

Text

If Zoltraak so OP, why doesn’t Frieren/Copyren use it to fight each other?: a silly tactics essay

Madhouse is absolutely killing it with their gorgeous fight scenes that also make more sense the more you dig into them. In this episode, it's the senior citizen fight scene, where Frieren busts out the scary spells for the first time after telling us that Zoltraak is fast, efficient, powerful, the best combat spell etc etc. So why don't they use it against each other? The answer is this 2-second scene:

Let’s review what we’ve been told about Zoltraak. It’s “piercing magic that pierced through the defensive magic of humans and magic resistant equipment, and directly destroyed the body”. Zoltraak is generally good at destroying physical things.

In turn, the hexagonal shield magic—as Qual deduces—“synchronises with offensive magic and disperses the power”. But this costs lots of mana, and is weak against attacks of physical mass.

The rock-paper-scissors of modern magic is, then, Zoltraak-shield-physical mass.

Another note: it seems possible to cast both a shield and another offensive magic (maybe only Zoltraak?) at the same time, as in Frieren and Denken’s duel, and as with Methode vs golems.

Back to the Frierens.

Zoltraak is fast, efficient in mana usage, and powerful. It’s “enough for mages of the modern era”. Frieren and Fern usually spam this one spell; Copyren also uses it against Denken and co. So they would like to open with it.

Knowing that, they both bring up the hexagonal shield, ready to disperse Zoltraak. But, they both realize that Frieren’s Zoltraak cannot defeat Frieren’s hexagon shield. Edel states the two methods of getting past a shield: breaking it by force, or bypassing it with speed. Neither can get a single Zoltraak off strong enough that can shatter the corresponding shield, so they start shifting their aim, but they react just as fast to each other so there’s no openings.

Then what about multiple Zoltraaks? Presumably they could both keep the shields up while also casting Zoltraak, so they could turtle down into a battle of attrition and see who makes a minor inefficient mistake. But! Copyren is facing two mages, not one. It will definitely lose in a shield-whittling contest. Even if they had infinite mana, if they sit there playing chicken with the shields, Fern will eventually blast it from behind.

Additional hypothesis: the mana used to defend against an attack with a hexagon shield will always be greater than the mana used to make the attack. Therefore, a mage should aim to always be on the offensive. In Ehre vs Fern, Fern kept creating distance and refused to get pinned down; Ehre got pinned down and that’s why she lost. Both Frierens have a motive to use as little defensive magic and as much offensive magic as possible.

Sadly, it’s a pretty empty room, with not much physical mass to use against each other; Copyren in particular probably wants to avoid eating up the walls of Spiegel’s hideaway. So they need to cast offensive magic, that isn’t Zoltraak, and that doesn’t need existing physical mass.

Before Zoltraak leading to shield leading to mass attacks, it’s likely there wasn’t that much of a need for physical mass specifically. Edel says it takes more mana to conjure than it does to manipulate the environment. But if mass isn’t a requirement, then ye olde mages probably wouldn’t have focused on magics with the weakness of, say, needing a water source nearby (sorry Kanne). It makes sense that old-fashioned attacks were therefore magics that expressed some kind of energy without significant mass: fire, lightning, wind. (Ty @wtfoctagon for laying out this pre-Zoltraak idea!)

Simultaneously, this brings up an interesting question: what kind of defence were pre-Zoltraak (therefore pre-hexagon) mages using?

1. Some other [Defence Magic], but weaker

2. A Warrior

3. More offence!

Forget this newfangled modern mass stuff. Frieren and Copyren go right back to Cast Fireball, the force of which can be dissipated and defended against with Cast Fireball.

Not using the hexagonal shield is actually a more mana-efficient defence. If Zoltraak’s out of the question, then there’s no real need to invest in the heavy anti-Zoltraak shield. And we have already seen a previous example of offence as defence: Fern vs Lugner.

We also see one more example of this kind of old-fashioned mass-less attack in the other senior citizen brawl, where Denken uses Waldgose (tornado) + Daosdorg (fire). It eats up enough mana that even Denken is tapped out by the end. Of course, for Frieren vs Denken, she has so much more mana that there’s no problem spending it on a full-body shield. But if she did the same versus her clone, she would rapidly start losing the attrition battle. So she has to defend with a less costly though much messier method.

One more advantage of non-mass elemental magic: for Copyren, using Hellfire magic is much more of an area-of-effect spell, which might be able to touch Fern as well. For Frieren, it’s a no-brainer to go along with splashing mana everywhere, to help hide Fern’s presence.

Of course, that’s not to say that they won’t take advantage of mass when it exists. The use of Hellfire to make lava out of the falling pillar/wall is a delicious and nutritious anime original addition, and it also makes so much sense.

tl;dr: the Frierens tested and discarded the possibility of a modern-style Zoltraak fight in as much time as it takes us to say "holy shit".

all this of course brings up the question:

If Frieren so OP against Zoltraak, why can Fern use Zoltraak?

because Fern’s OP OP Zoltraak go brrrrr

#frieren #sousou no frieren

519 notes · View notes

hikarry · 9 months

Text

"Aziraphale is the intelligent one"

My love, both of them are intelligent even if Crowley plays his smarts in an aloof way

How many IQ points do you think one must have to bullshit his way through dangerous situations as fast as Crowley does? How smart and cold blooded (ahah get it? I think I'm hilarious) does one need to be to come up with high risk yet efficient plans under pressure and unreasonable amounts of stress?

That man's synapses happen at light speed!

Not only does he have to come up with plans in 2 seconds but he also has to play it cool all the while hiding all his anxiety and manic panic!

Crowley is the definition of nerves of steel

He would be your best option to difuse a bomb ready to explode in under 3 minutes, not Aziraphale

Aziraphale is book smart and methodical. He needs time to think and analyze stuff. Crowley thinks clearer and faster under absurd amounts of pressure and he is lightning fast about it without ever tipping his hand

If you have time to solve your problem, go with Aziraphale. You can be sure he will find the best solution there is. If you are under the clock, fuck Aziraphale. Crowley is your best option to come up with a solid plan to save your arse

This is one of the reasons they are such a good team! They complement each other like that

If I ever see another himbo downplaying Crowley's smarts murder will occur

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #anthony j crowley

834 notes · View notes

sorreysorren · 3 months

Text

SPUR OF THE MOMENT

nagi caught your eye, simply by doing absolutely nothing. you weren't sure whether to call him an idiot or a genius.

you stared at the leaderboard.

in first place read the user: "SEICHOKI" in big, bold letters as if to mock you.

what the fuck?

for weeks, you'd been at the top of space invader's leaderboard, unrivaled by any other with your score of 87,598.

until now.

funnily enough, it's not like this "seichoki" beat you by hundreds of points, no. next to the user, by the hi-score tab, blinked the 87,600 in red.

it was a difference of 2 points.

all of the scores below your name were the same scores that had been present for over a year.

they were old, bland, and low.

it's not like many people ever pick this game anyway; it's old, objectively difficult, and looks rather unassuming compared to all the other attractions in the arcade.

so naturally, this irked you more than it would've if it had been any other game.

you exchanged a few crumpled dollar bills for a stack of coins.

─────────────────────────────────────────

you'd grown accustomed to the game's "heartbeat rhythm."

you timed your movements, moving from shelter to shooting as you moved forward. shelter to out, shelter to out, shelter to out. a process repeated quickly.

just a few more points.

you click. you move out of the shelter. "faster than fast, quicker than quick. i am lightning..."

"wise words. who'd you steal them from?"

"unwise of you to assume i stole them." you kept your gaze on the screen, but you already knew who the voice beside you was. "shouldn't you be helping little kids find their parents or something, hiori?"

he kept watching you play, and you could feel the silent judgment from his stare.

it was all fun and games, though. he was one of the first friends you'd made outside of school. his first few days on the job. you visited the arcade more often than you'd like to admit, meaning you were bound to make him owe you a favor at some point. you were either an angel sent from heaven or the devil itself straight out of hell. even to this day, hiori wasn't sure which you were.

NEW HIGHSCORE: 87,615

"... lightning mcqueen." you narrowed your eyes, but kept your focus on the game, not faltering once. "thank lighting mcqueen"

"you've been hogging the machine for the past hour."

please. nobody actually plays this."

"except for the guy who beat you."

"so it's a guy? do you know him"

"sort of. he was here with a guy i know. mikage reo, a new investor."

"well, are they coming again?"

"reo, yes. his friend? probably, or probably not."

─────────────────────────────────────────

you watched his playing style.

as it turns out, he did come back.

a few minutes ago, you'd started helping hiori organize the candy shelves in the gift shop. two people walked inside the gift shop area: a guy with purple hair, and one with white hair. the purple-haired one introduced himself as reo mikage, so you could infer the white-haired one was the so-called "seichoki".

this was further proven whenever you showed reo where hiori was, and on your way back, you noticed the white-haired boy was inserting coins into the space invaders machine. you slowly walked towards him, focusing on his screen.

so now,

it was down to the last few invaders and--

he followed a fast-moving group of invaders, shooting as he did.

are you an idiot? you wanted to ask. what he was doing was a perfect way to run into missiles.

"do you always play like that?" you couldn't help but ask.

he didn't respond immediately, which made you think he was ignoring you at first. but after a few moments, he finally responded, soundly uninterested.

"like what?"

"with that strategy" (if you could even call it one)

"what strategy?" a hint of confusion met his tone.

he's got to be kidding.

"never really needed one for this game," he added

you weren't sure whether to call him an idiot or a genius.

through the corner of his eye, he noticed your expression "it's about wiping them out as efficiently as possible, right?".

NEW HIGHSCORE: 92,105

your eyes widened slightly as you stared at the screen, "how is that even -"

the leaderboard screen popped up, his username now topping yours, once again.

"oh. are you the other player?" he asked

you nodded.

for a moment it looked like he had something to say, but that went away once someone called out, "nagi!"

you both turned to see that it was reo. there was a bewildered expression on his face once he noticed you and nagi had been conversing, though only for a split second. a smile grew on his face as he waited for nagi back at the entrance.

"gotta go." nagi said as he collected his tickets from the machine. he stood still for a moment as if yet again contemplating something else.

"good luck" he muttered as he passed by you, but you couldn't help but wonder if you imagined it.

as if you needed it.

you nudged the control in the direction the missile came from to avoid a missile dropped, while finally reaching the last few invaders.

you waited in the middle of the screen, firing where the invaders came from

again: forward, then shelter. shoot. then shelter again. again and again until--

the BGM faded like a broken record and the screen turned black.

it was as if the world was conspiring against you. you wondered if nagi somehow knew this would happen. if not, it was stupendously ironic that this happened after his good luck wish.

you turned to look for hiori, your only help.

good news: it can be fixed.

bad news: it has to be fixed.

"how long will it take?"

"i don't know." hiori sighed. "you are aware this game is kind of old anyway?"

"so?"

─────────────────────────────────────────

so.

you walked back into the arcade the next week, heading straight toward the space invaders machine.

there was already another figure standing right in front of the...pitch black screen.

"great." you mumbled in disappointment.

the figure turned around. it was nagi, a twizzler in his hand. you recognized it was the jumbo twizzlers from the gift shop.

aa you got closer, you noticed the 'OUT OF ORDER' sign which had been placed on top of the machine's screen.

"did you know that would happen?"

"no." he opened another twizzler.

"then why did you wish me luck?"

"i mean, the machine was making weird noises. but the good luck was just good luck."

you heard a familiar sigh coming from behind you and nagi.

hiori sighed, "listen. you didn't hear it from me, but as a temporary replacement, a new installment is coming soon"

you and nagi turned to look at hiori, at equal speed.

"for what game?" you asked for both you and nagi. his expression said he was equally as curious.

"i'm not supposed to speak about it yet."

hiori senses your disappointment, but of course, he also didn't want to lose his job.

"isn't it better as a surprise anyway? it's more fair that way" he tried to reason.

it really didn't make it more or less fair, but you still nodded in defeat.

you turned to look at nagi "until next time, then." because of course, you still wanted to beat him.

he glanced at you for a second, through the blurred reflection of the black screen. "yep." he shrugged. surely enough, he was looking forward to it.

—————♡—————

before he made it to the exit, you called out his name.

he didn't turn, but he stopped walking, which indicated he was listening.

"are you busy?"

"nope."

"wanna do something else?" you asked, with a bit of courage on your side.

he was silent for a few moments before responding, "sure."

you began walking towards the exit.

"good. 'cause i know this one candy store, and it's got way better candy than those twizzlers you're always having."

a/n: UMM the end was rushed af since i had this in my drafts for so long...and I just wanted to get it over with woops!!

taglist: @huaposh @bloodypainterswife @gigiiiiislife @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @hanmasfavoritegirl @ewlyq @vagueval

#bllk #blue lock nagi #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you #bllk manga #blue lock #blue lock manga #blue lock anime #bllk x reader #bllk x you #seishiro nagi #blue lock imagines #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader

268 notes · View notes

literallymechanical · 2 months

Note

Zap Energy says that they’ve solved Z-pinch by “shear stabilization”, where they have different sections of the plasma moving at different velocities (faster outside, slower inside). Doesn’t shear like that cause instability, not suppress it? Or are plasmas not subject to that law of fluid dynamics

You’re thinking of instabilities in flowing plasma like it’s turbulence in flowing fluid. This is partially correct, but like... okay. So, the field of physics that governs the movement of plasma is called magnetohydrodynamics, where you introduce Maxwell’s equations into Navier-Stokes. It is horrible. I am but a humble mechanical engineer, and I leave the physics to physicists.

The physicists tell me that Zap Energy's science is solid.

Bit of context: Zap Energy is taking an old fusion energy concept from the 1950's called a Z-pinch, and revamping it with modern plasma physics.

A Z-pinch works on the principle that passing an electric current through a conductor generates a magnetic field, which in turn crushes (or "pinches") the conductor. The first observations of the pinch effect were in hollow metal tubes that were used as lightning rods, like this one from a factory in 1905:

Image by Brian James, CC BY-SA 3.0, Wikimedia Commons

Plasma is electrically conductive, and is subject to the same compressive pinch effect as metal. Lightning itself is a plasma pinch, actually.

When you pinch a plasma, it heats up. The fast-moving, charged plasma particles repel each other and push back against the magnetic field until the system reaches equilibrium. The stronger the plasma current, the harder the pinch, the more pressure, and the more heat. With sufficient plasma current and the right hydrogen isotopes, you can create a pinch strong enough to induce nuclear fusion.

The pinch effect was first utilized by a class of fusion machines called Z-pinches in the early 1950's. However, those Z-pinches were extremely unstable. The most common analogy is that compressing plasma with a Z-pinch is like trying to squeeze jello with rubber bands.

UK Atomic Energy Authority, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Both linear and toroidal Z-pinches have been built. The toroidal Z-pinch above shows some of the characteristic kink instabilities of a pinched plasma – it goes all squiggly. Researchers started adding external magnets to Z-pinches to help reduce instabilities (which eventually led to the development of the tokamak), but could never get a truly stable plasma. Z-pinch fusion research was largely abandoned in favor of the tokamak and stellarator.

However, the external magnets of a tokamak or stellarator are massive, complex, and use incredible amounts of power. The University of Washington and Zap Energy went back to the old concept of a magnet-less linear Z-pinch, but with a more modern understanding of plasma physics. They discovered that by using a flowing plasma rather than a stationary one, with a faster flow rate on the outer layers (a "sheared-flow" Z-pinch), they were able to achieve great stability with no magnets.

Credit: Zap Energy

Rather than filling a chamber with stationary hydrogen and then pinching it, they blow a "smoke ring" of plasma around a cylinder into their chamber. An electrode at the tip of the cylinder then fires a pulse into the plasma, which creates a pinch with a complex velocity profile.

Credit: Zap Energy

Zap Energy’s physics basis is good. They’ve pretty convincingly demonstrated that sheared-flow does indeed stabilize a pinched plasma, and if they can pull off magnetic confinement fusion with no magnets, it will be massively cheaper than any other method. The uncertainty that Zap is facing comes from mechanical considerations (in particular, electrode erosion is a tricky problem to solve), and the relatively thin margins for efficiency that are inherent to any pulsed fusion technique.

#fusion #z-pinch #science #engineering

121 notes · View notes

frozenfries · 4 months

Text

Cozy Café : A VALORANT Headcanon

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written for this game, but inspiration struck at a random time. This totally hasn’t been sitting in my drafts since last January

Prompt: If the agents worked at a café, what would their roles and/or signature drink be?

Amidst the chaos of battle, a quaint café stands as a sanctuary for the weary agents. Here, they can take refuge from their high-stakes duels, and trade their weapons for aprons to pursue a different kind of mission: the art of brewing the perfect cup of coffee.

Phoenix: with his vibrant personality and quick reflexes, he’s the charismatic face of the café. Entertaining customers with his barista skills comes naturally as he conjures up dazzling coffee concoctions with a flair of his hand, a burst of flame and a confident grin. His signature drink, The Ignition Latte, is a fiery blend that invigorates even the most exhausted of patrons. Jett: agile on and off the battlefield, she brings her lightning-fast speed and precision to the café. With a swift motion of her finger, she effortlessly crafts delicate latte art, transforming each cup into its own masterpiece. Her Cloud Burst Cappuccino is a smooth delight, creating a moment of feather-light happiness for those who drink it. Viper: the formidable chemist brings her scientific expertise to the world of coffee. With a touch of her gloved hand, she infuses her creations with unique flavors and aromas, leaving customers in awe. Her Venomous Mocha is a mysterious blend that tantalizes the taste buds and leaves a lingering, addictive aftertaste. Sage: with her nurturing personality and herbal knowledge, she adds a touch of serenity to the café and its menu. Her Rejuvenation Tea is a calming infusion that restores both body and mind, providing a moment of tranquility amidst the chaos of everyday. Omen: ever the enigma, he brings an air of mystery to the café. With a flick of his wrist, he conjures up ethereal and smoky concoctions, leaving people wondering how he manages to capture such unique flavors. His Shadowy Cold Brew is a chilling experience that takes customers on a journey through darkness and light. KAY/O: the robotic agent assists in the day-to-day operations of the café, precisely measuring ingredients, ensuring efficiency, and maintaining the coffee shop's cutting-edge technology. KAY/O's presence adds a futuristic touch to the atmosphere, making customers feel like they've stepped into a realm where man and machine coexist harmoniously. Sova: a master archer, you can find him behind the counter carefully crafting his signature drink, The Tracker's Shot: a potent blend of espresso and a hint of blueberry syrup, topped with a delicate foam art of a wolf's paw print. Sova takes great pride in his creation, often using it as a conversation starter with customers, enthralling them with tales of his adventures in the wilderness. Cypher: the watchful surveillance expert provides security for the establishment. He has a keen eye for detail, which translates seamlessly into his signature drink, The Watchful Eye Latte: a meticulous combination of steamed milk, a shot of espresso, and a dash of vanilla spice syrup, served with a meticulous swirl of latte art depicting an intricate camera lens.

Chamber: the polished agent with a mysterious past has a taste for the unconventional, which is reflected in his signature creation, The Trademark Mocha: a rich concoction of dark chocolate, a double shot of espresso, and a hint of cinnamon, sprinkled with a dash of edible gold glitter that gives it an otherworldly shimmer.

Astra: with the ability to infuse her cosmic energy into any environment, she can elevate even a simple drink into an otherworldly experience. The Celestial Brew starts with a base of rich, smooth espresso, followed by a fusion of steamed milk and vanilla syrup, creating a swirling galaxy effect. To top it off is a dollop of homemade lavender-infused whipped cream, a touch of stardust and a sprinkle of edible glitter.

#valorant #valorant headcanons #valorant phoenix #valorant jett #valorant viper #valorant sage #valorant omen #valorant kay/o #valorant sova #valorant cypher #valorant chamber #valorant astra #valorant fanfiction #valorant x reader

75 notes · View notes

brookghaib-blog · 4 months

Text

Whispers of the past pt.3

Pairing: Hoshina Sohiro x reader

Summary: 10 years ago, Y/N went missing after being attacked by a kaiju, now working by Gen Narumi's side as his secret weapon, she hides herself in hopes that one day she reconnects with her first love, Hoshino Soshiro.

pt.2 - pt.4

The morning air was crisp and cool as I arrived at the secluded training ground on the outskirts of the city. The area was fortified, a place where I could safely unleash my kaiju form without endangering others. Captain Gen Narumi was already waiting, his posture as rigid and disciplined as ever, with a stern look that belied his underlying concern.

"Good morning, Chisuka," he greeted, his voice a steady anchor. "Ready to begin?"

I nodded, feeling the familiar mix of anticipation and dread. "Yes, Captain."

"Let's start with a warm-up. Transform and we'll work on your agility today."

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and focused inward. The transformation was always a jarring experience, a reminder of the night my life changed forever. My body began to shift, muscles and bones contorting painfully until I stood in my kaiju form—a creature with sleek, obsidian skin that glistened like polished onyx under the morning sun. My eyes glowed a fierce red, illuminating the darkness within. My lithe, almost feline build allowed for swift and precise movements. Sharp claws extended from my hands, and a long, whip-like tail swished behind me, its tip ending in a deadly point.

Narumi watched closely, his expression unreadable. "Begin."

I launched into the drills, moving with a speed and precision that felt almost unnatural. My kaiju form was agile and powerful, designed for both combat and evasion. I leaped over obstacles with ease, dodged imaginary attacks with lightning-fast reflexes, and practiced striking with my claws, each movement a blur of efficiency. Narumi shouted commands, pushing me to my limits.

"Faster, Chisuka! You need to be faster!"

I gritted my teeth, pushing through the pain and fatigue. The memory of Soshiro's face flashed in my mind, fueling my determination. I couldn't afford to falter—not now, not ever. The thought of protecting those I cared about, even if they didn't know who I was, kept me going.

We moved on to more complex maneuvers, combining agility with strength. I practiced jumping from elevated platforms, landing with precision and immediately launching into a flurry of attacks. My claws sliced through the air, leaving trails of red light in their wake. Narumi set up drones that simulated kaiju movements, and I dodged their attacks with grace, countering with swift strikes.

"Good work, Chisuka," Narumi said, a rare note of approval in his voice. "Now, let's test your endurance."

I nodded, ready for the next challenge. Narumi activated a series of holographic kaiju, each one programmed to attack relentlessly. The battle was intense, a blur of motion and energy. I moved fluidly, dodging their attacks and countering with my own. My claws and tail were a blur, striking with lethal precision. The fight continued for what felt like hours, each second a testament to my strength and resolve.

Finally, Narumi called a halt. I reverted to my human form, collapsing onto the ground, breathless and exhausted. Narumi approached, offering me a bottle of water.

"Good work today," he said, his tone softer. "You're improving."

I took the water, nodding gratefully. "Thank you, Captain. I just want to be ready."

He sat down beside me, the unspoken weight of our mission hanging in the air. "You will be. But remember, Chisuka, you're not alone in this. We're in this together."

I looked at him, seeing the resolve in his eyes. "I know. And I'll do whatever it takes to protect them."

Narumi nodded, his gaze intense. "That's what makes you so valuable, Chisuka. Your determination, your strength. But don't let it consume you. Balance is key."

As we stood to leave, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The challenges ahead were daunting, but I knew that with Narumi's guidance and my own resolve, I could face whatever came my way.

After the intense training session, Narumi and I walked back to my apartment. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the city streets. We didn't talk much on the way, both lost in our thoughts. When we reached my building, I invited Narumi in for dinner, feeling the need for some normalcy after the day's exertions.

"Make yourself comfortable," I said, opening the door and stepping inside. "I'll start dinner."

Narumi nodded, glancing around my small, modest apartment. He sat down at the table, watching as I moved about the kitchen, preparing a simple meal of rice, grilled fish, and vegetables. The rhythmic motions of cooking were soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos of our lives.

As the meal cooked, I set the table and joined Narumi in the living room. The TV was on, playing a news channel in the background. We chatted about the day's training, strategies, and the ever-looming kaiju threat.

"You're getting faster," Narumi remarked, his tone approving. "But we need to work on your endurance. The battles are only going to get tougher."

I nodded, appreciating his feedback. "I'll keep pushing myself. I want to be ready for anything."

As we ate, the conversation shifted to more personal topics. It was rare to see this side of Narumi, the stern captain allowing a glimpse of his humanity. We talked about our pasts, our families, and the burdens we carried.

After dinner, we settled in the living room with cups of tea, the TV still playing softly in the background. Suddenly, a segment caught my attention. It was a gossip show, the kind I usually ignored, but the names mentioned made my heart stop.

"…rumors are swirling about a possible relationship between Vice-Captain Hoshina Soshiro and Captain Mina Ashiro. The two have been seen together frequently, sparking speculation about their…"

I froze, the cup of tea trembling in my hand. Narumi noticed my reaction, his eyes narrowing in concern.

"Chisuka, are you alright?"

I tried to compose myself, but the words on the screen echoed in my mind. Soshiro and Mina? My heart ached with a mix of jealousy and sadness. I had believed, hoped, that Soshiro would wait for me, that he would somehow sense I was still out there.

"I… I'm fine," I lied, my voice shaky. "Just tired."

Narumi wasn't convinced. "Chisuka, talk to me. What's bothering you?"

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of my emotions pressing down on me. "It's just… I thought… I hoped he would wait for me."

Narumi's expression softened, a rare glimpse of empathy. "It's understandable to feel that way. But remember, Soshiro doesn't know the truth. He thinks you've been gone for years. People move on, and it's not a reflection of how he felt about you."

I nodded, trying to hold back the tears. "I know, Captain. It's just hard to see him with someone else. Especially someone like Mina. She's strong, capable… everything I'm trying to be."

Narumi embraced me in a tight hug. "You're strong too, Chisuka. And you're doing something incredibly important. You're protecting them, even if they don't know it. That's something to be proud of."

His words offered some comfort, but the ache in my heart remained. I turned off the TV, unable to watch anymore, and focused on cleaning up the remnants of our dinner. Narumi helped, his presence a steadying force.

As we finished, he looked at me with a mix of concern and determination. "We'll keep training, Chisuka. You'll get stronger, and when the time is right, you'll have the chance to tell Soshiro the truth. For now, focus on your mission. It's the best way to protect him and everyone else."

I nodded, drawing strength from his resolve. "Thank you, Captain. I'll keep fighting."

As Narumi left, I closed the door behind him, the weight of our conversation settling heavily on my shoulders. I glanced at the photograph of Soshiro once more before tucking it back into the box. The image of his smiling face lingered in my mind, a reminder of a life that felt like a distant dream.

The night was alive with the sounds of laughter and music as I worked behind the bar, serving drinks to the patrons who filled the dimly lit room. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, a sense of excitement hanging in the air. It was shaping up to be another busy night at the bar.

As I wiped down the counters, my boss approached me with a concerned look on his face. "Chisuka, we've got a bit of a problem tonight. Two of the dancers called in sick, and we're short-staffed. I hate to ask this, but would you be willing to fill in for them?"

I hesitated, my heart sinking at the thought. I had never been comfortable with the idea of dancing in front of a crowd, especially in the revealing costumes that were required for the job. But I couldn't refuse my boss's request, not when the bar was relying on me.

"Are you serious? Boss I can't, that's not my job, can't you cut short the show or something"

Mr. Orochi never asked me for much, neverless something he knew how I felt about, he had a anxious expression on him, "Chisuka please, I promise you get paid double for this favor, and whatever the gentleman give for you is yours".

Reluctantly, I nodded, as much as dancing for a crowd of men sounded agonizing, I couldn't pass the oportunity of a higher payment, it's not like a salary as a bartender would leave me much at the end of the month. It wasn't the first time I would do this, that's how I started at the bar, however, I had often tell Mr. Orochi how bad that job made me feel, that's how I've eventually earned my spot as serving drinks and nothing more. "I'll do it."

As much as I hated to be under so many thristy eyes, Mr. Orochi as taken care of me as one of his own, if needed, he knows, that'll do whatever he asks me to.

He grinned, relief evident in his eyes. "Thank you, Chisuka. I owe you one."

I forced a smile, my stomach churning with nerves as I headed to the dressing room to change into my costume. The outfit was even more revealing than I had feared, a skimpy ensemble of sequins and feathers that left little to the imagination. I felt exposed and vulnerable, the fabric clinging to my skin uncomfortably.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed aside my discomfort and focused on the task at hand. I had a job to do, and I would do it to the best of my ability.

As the night wore on, the bar filled with patrons, the energy of the crowd infectious. The music grew louder, pulsing through the room as the dancers took to the stage, their movements graceful and hypnotic. I watched from the sidelines, steeling myself for my own turn in the spotlight.

Finally, it was my cue to take the stage.

My costume was just a light pink miniskirt and a matching bikini top, I had heels full of glitter, put my hair in curly hairstyle the best as could with such little time, a mask covering the upper part of my face, showing only my lips for them to see.

I plastered on a smile, trying to exude confidence as I stepped onto the platform. The music started, and I began to move, my body swaying to the rhythm in a carefully choreographed routine I used to do in my times as a dancer.

But despite my best efforts, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The eyes of the crowd bore into me, their gazes lingering on my exposed skin. I felt vulnerable and exposed, a puppet dancing for their entertainment.

As I danced, I caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd. Soshiro. His expression unreadable as he watched me with intense focus. My heart skipped a beat, a surge of emotions flooding through me. I wanted to look away, to hide from his gaze, but I couldn't tear my eyes from his.

In that moment, it was as if the rest of the world faded away, leaving only me and Soshiro locked in a silent exchange. His eyes bored into mine, searching for something I couldn't name. I felt exposed, vulnerable under his scrutiny, however, somehow I felt confident, he was the only person who has seen me in this much clothing, and less.

My gaze never left him, the show was now for him, and him only, the though of this being an intimate time between us made it so much easier, that man had a hold on me that not even God himself could revoke.

But then, just as quickly as it had begun, the moment was over. The music faded, and I stepped off the stage, feeling shaken and disoriented, I snapped back to reality, feeling embarassed by all that. I made my way back to the backrooms to change back into my normal working uniform, trying to shake off the lingering effects of Soshiro's gaze.

As the night wore on, the bar grew increasingly crowded, the atmosphere lively with the chatter of patrons celebrating the end of another successful mission. The third division had achieved a hard-fought victory against a powerful kaiju, and they were here to let off steam.

I busied myself behind the bar, serving drinks and trying to ignore the ache in my chest. Soshiro's presence had stirred up old emotions, reminding me of a past I had tried to forget. But as much as I wanted to push him away, I couldn't deny the pull he had on me.

As the night wore on, the music grew louder, the crowd more raucous. I stole glances at Soshiro whenever I could, watching as he laughed and joked with his comrades. He seemed carefree, unaffected by the weight of the world.

Unfortunately, our eyes never met again, being under the same roof and pretend not to see the one I desire so much, right in front of me. All I wanted was to be beside him, laughing with him, be happy knowing that after the bar we would go home together, sleep together, maybe if nothing have had happened to me we would married by now, the happiest couple.

Mina Ashiro. You have it now. You have my dream.

His attention was on a fellow soldier calling his name. I watched him go, feeling a pang of disappointment mixed with relief. It was better this way, I told myself. Better to keep my distance, to maintain the facade of normalcy. How would he recognize me after 10 years of not seeing me, I was probably already forgotten, and here I am, stuck to a memory of little highschool love who now has the strongest and a beautiful woman by his side, in his arms.

But deep down, I knew that no matter how hard I tried to deny it, there was a part of me that would always long for him, for the connection we once shared. And as I watched him disappear into the crowd, I couldn't help but wonder what might have been.

As the night drew to a close, I found myself lost in thought, the events of the evening swirling in my mind. The memory of Soshiro's gaze haunted me, leaving me feeling unsettled and restless. But as I closed up the bar and made my way home, I knew that no matter how much I wished things were different.

"It's time to move on Y/N... He already did."

#hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #kaiju art #soshino x reader #fanfic #fics

106 notes · View notes

chaosticbraindo · 3 months

Text

Kaijune - day 17: penetrate 🪲 🦿

Chaos Megalon

After Gigan’s defeat, an alien race known as Zetopyons followed its tract to earth. These beings are benevolent and lawful, planned to hunt down the rouge cyborg with their own creation that they worship as a god, Megalon. However, upon their arrival to the solar system… they suddenly changes course and began an attack on earth...

In truth, such a decision is not hard to understand. The solar system is now overran with powerful and unnaturally unstable kaijus number in the dozens, many of which are too powerful to even confront… Yet, as a race bound by law and order, for them to let such a dangerous place be is simply not an option.

As they look they realized that not only is Earth the source of the chaos, almost every kaijus that roams the planet are destroyers, and each have the power destroy entire planets worth of life forms- along with a massive tear that is barely clogged up with but a single benevolent kaiju. Knowing they are in way over their heads, they deployed Megalon before fleeing to seek help.

Megalon, after being left to on Earth in its pupa state, soon completes its metamorphosis and emerges. Addressing the most destructive threat around, it sees Rodan and made a B line towards its volcanic nest. Surprisingly, Gojira suddenly change course upon Megalon’s awakening and start moving towards the cyborg weapon in search of a confrontation, mistaking it for another cyborg kaiju, Gigan.

Of course, with the order to take out any kaiju it cross path with, Megalon have no qualms with confronting Gojira as well, slamming full speed into the atomic horror and punching a hole right through its torso with the combination of leg strength and drill arms. Ignoring the massive hole in its torso, Gojira began grappling the insectoid cyborg while being pushed for miles upon miles with each jump from Megalon.

different to Gigan who was made to be sharp, fast, and efficient in its killing, Megalon is built to be direct and powerful, fighting by leaping into the enemy and piercing them. Moreover, Megalon’s arsenal are more diverse than Gigan albeit less deadly. From powerful lightning to condensed napalms that explodes on contact, Megalon was more than capable of overwhelming Gojira. Beyond it all, Megalon have a natural power to freeze reality similar to that of Shimo. Unlike Shimo who express this ability in the form of a breath, however, Megalon can only use this ability to put up a flat barrier for a fraction of a second- yet, this barrier can still block all form of attack. With this power, not only can Megalon protect itself but also freeze the area beneath its paws, letting itself jump at full strength and not worry about sinking into the ground.

One would be hard pressed to find a kaiju that can best this juggernaut of a machine… but Gojira was one of those kaijus. With unrivaled regeneration and immense physical strength alone, Gojira was able to take on attacks one would consider lethal- without even letting go, all while slowly crushing the protective shell of Megalon and showering the cyborg with its atomic breath. Megalon, powerful as it was, was lacking in both regenerative powers and resilience, and was soon taking on damage beyond repair.

after a battle that was rather short but of unrivaled intensity, Megalon slump down, having one of its leg, its strongest asset, torn right out of its socket. In a last ditch attempt to take out Gojira, it open its maw to let out a final napalm barrage but was unfortunately hit in turn. Having an atomic breath blasting directly to the mouth, all the napalms within Megalon goes off, exploding itself from the inside out.

#kaiju #kaiju art #creature design #kaijune #monster #fangoji #godzilla #megalon

52 notes · View notes

fandomforg · 1 year

Text

ok, so, mcu peter parker somehow gets sent to the star wars universe

we’re all familiar with the trope of ‘earth girl who’s a big star wars fan goes to star wars galaxy and tries to save everyone there with her knowledge of the Plot’ but now think about if peter parker, resident star wars nerd/super genius/superhero, gets sent there

first things first, he would lose his marbles seeing all the cool aliens and technology (even though he’s already seen plenty of aliens/tech just from being on earth) but like!! it’s not just any aliens!!! it’s star wars aliens!!! woah!!!!

he wouldn’t really even have to worry about hiding his enhancements bc he could just go ‘uh, i’m not baseline human?’ and everyone there would just go ‘oh, ok’

as soon as peter got his bearings tho, he would absolutely immediately start scheming on how to stop palpatine/prevent the clone wars or whatever. like full on murder cork board with red string as he thinks. whatever poor soul has offered to let this lost child stay with them is very concerned because every time they bring him a snack it looks a little bit more like this kid is trying to overthrow the government (he kind of is planning to overthrow the government)

peter has gotten in enough debates online to know that most of the groups that might be able to help him (the jedi, the mandalorians) are a little too wrapped up in their own stuff (connections with the senate, civil war) to stop palpatine with any sort of efficiency, so he just goes ‘huh, guess i’m gonna be a vigilante again’ now he’s spiderman again!!! but this time in star wars!!!!!

webslinging on corusant would go so crazy though

so by day, peter is working part time at some little corusant shop where the owner lets him use the spare room (and the owner is also constantly so concerned over this insane child that just showed up one day without knowing the date, but knowing many random historical facts that they space-google and find out are absolutely correct)

and by night, spiderman is swinging between the levels of corucant, stopping petty crimes avoiding the jedi who keep trying to figure out who this spiderguy is. they think must be force sensitive (‘just look at how fast he’s running! and he’s sensing hits before he sees them!’)

eventually, peter finally makes his move and goes after palpatine. it’s uhhhh, actually easier then he expected. peter may have had a few too many backup plans. palpatine was not expecting his sixth lightning to be absorbed by a brightly-colored suit (‘thanks, mr. stark!’) nor was he expecting to be covered??? in spider?? webs???? it’s very hard to cut yourself free from webs when you can’t move an inch to even ignite your lightsaber

the next day, palpatine’s guards find him still stuck to the wall of his office and spitting mad, while the jedi find security footage of the chancellor attacking that one vigilante with force lightning and pages and pages of evidence of palpatine’s crimes (sith-related and not) just sitting in their inbox. the arrest goes pretty smoothly after that.

once this all finally hits the news, the shop owner that peter’s been staying with (read: slowly being adopted by) just kinda shouts out a ‘kid! what did you even do?!’

well now that that’s handled, the next thing on peter’s to do list is, uhhh, getting home. yikes.

#in my mind the shop owner is mandalorian #but that’s just because i’m biased and love ‘mandalorian adopts feral child they found in a dumpster’ stories #webslinging would go so hard on corusant though bc peter’s used to like moving super horizontally #but on corusant there’s so much opportunity for vertical movement #star wars #mcu #fanfic #fanfic concept #peter parker #spiderman #crossover #forg post

177 notes · View notes

kusakabesimp · 7 months

Text

In Defense of Kusakabe - Ch 253 and Analysis

We respect Kusakabe Atsuya in this house. I've seen a lot of back-and-forth on this chapter, and I need to defend my King. So, let's get into it!! Author's note: I intended this as a short post, but now it's a 1600-word dissertation, and I'm not even sorry. >_>

The chapter opens with a flashback with the narrator asking jujutsu sorcerers who is the strongest Grade 1. I take everyone at their word here: Mei Mei has praised Kusakabe's skill on multiple occasions, Nanami is known for his strong situational awareness, and Gojo is always brutally honest. They say he's the strongest Grade 1; I believe them.

Kusakabe has a reputation for downplaying his skills. We know he's confident; we've seen him hype himself up during fights, but he's not the type to brag about it. It's worth noting that he uses the masculine and assertive pronoun "ore" when referring to himself, in contrast to Gojo's softer "boku" and Nanami's ultra-polite "watashi." He has the confidence, but he keeps it subtle.

(Also, it's unclear who Usami is, but Atsuya probably knows this sorcerer well since he doesn't use an honorific when he mentions them.)

So, why defend Kusakabe?

There's a lot we don't know about Kusakabe's abilities, and what we do see isn't fully explained.

He blocks Kenjaku's Maximum Uzumaki using a technique from New Shadow Style; however, the technique itself isn't named, and its actual execution isn't shown. Uzumaki caused massive destruction, leaving a wide zone of wreckage and a crater on par with Hollow Purple. Kenjaku wasn't holding back, so blocking his attack would have required a huge amount of strength and cursed energy.

And speaking of Kenjaku, he goes so far as to compliment Kusakabe on his technical skill, saying, "It's nice to face someone with a little know-how." This is a rare moment of praise from someone who considers all sorcerers garbage. This alone speaks volumes.

Simple Domain and the fight with Sukuna: there is a lot to unpack here. Simple Domain has different rules and applications depending on who is casting it and who or what is affected by it. The primary purpose is to neutralize the one-hit effect of Domain Expansions, but Kusakabe isn't using it as a debuff for Malevolent Shrine. Instead, he uses it because he knows Sukuna's Cleave/Dismantle can work outside his DE as a standard Cursed Technique. Kusakabe's Simple Domain is designed to cancel or at least lessen the effects of cursed techniques, making this a perfect application in a hand-to-hand fight to minimize damage or protect an ally. Kusakabe later confirms that getting hit by Cleave or Dismantle at point-blank range is a guaranteed fatality. Yet he didn't die. Even with the protection of Simple Domain, there's something else in play beyond what we're seeing. And considering the versatility of Simple Domain, it's almost guaranteed that Kusakabe can use it in several other ways we don't know about.

Kenjutsu: I've heard people describe Kusakabe as a modern-day samurai, and that's an accurate comparison. Kusakabe is highly skilled in New Shadow Style sword techniques, the style itself based on an actual kenjutsu style known as Shinkage-ryū. So far, we've seen only one of these techniques, Battō. This is an iai sword drawing technique where the katana is coated with additional cursed energy, allowing it to be unsheathed and wielded with lightning-fast speed. I say 'additional' because Kusakabe's blade is always imbued with his energy, but this technique has an extra push. We see the beginning of another iai technique called Yūzuki (Evening Moon), but he's interrupted before he can draw. He seemed excited to use the technique, whatever it was. It's worth noting that both of these techniques parallel the Shinkage-ryū school emphasis on using low stances to protect the body while simultaneously using the legs to increase speed and power. The goal is to respond to a situation as quickly and efficiently as possible, the philosophy of 'the sword cuts only once.' Killing or cutting with one strike takes extreme precision and skill. Given that he's a master of New Shadow Style, there are definitely other iai techniques we haven't seen yet.

We know he's incredibly fast. In Chapter 246, after Higuruma's Deadly Sentencing fails, Sukuna returns to using Cleave and Dismantle. Despite being on the opposite side of the battlefield, Kusakabe managed to shield Higuruma from the attack. He was already moving in that direction before Sukuna used his cursed technique, but it's still impressive that he outran the fastest attack in JJK while simultaneously expanding the radius of his Simple Domain to include Higuruma.

Soul Exchange CT: In Chapter 222, Yuji and Kusakabe switch bodies/souls. The switch is confirmed both in the dojo and in an aside where Kusakabe expresses his enjoyment of being in a younger body; outside of that, we don't know anything about this technique. It never reappears in the manga, and Gege doesn't explain how it works. Like with Simple Domain, each sorcerer has their own specific rules for how the body and soul interact and how their cursed technique ties into one, the other, or both. It isn't clear if Yuji inherited this technique or learned it, but there's no doubt that he mastered it under Kusakabe's guidance. It's worth considering the possibility he may have even learned it from Kusakabe himself. Gege left this scene intentionally vague and confusing, along with the many times New Shadow Style techniques are described only as "forbidden for outsiders." There are too many unknowns to rule it out.

Other things that work in Kusakabe's favor:

The man KNOWS sorcery. He has extensive knowledge of cursed techniques, domains, and the uses and effects of cursed energy. This was made abundantly clear in the Sukuna vs Gojo fight, where he helped explain what was going on (because, let's be honest, even we weren't sure what was happening). Kusakabe's working knowledge is invaluable, which is one of the reasons he's a great teacher. Gojo is also an exceptional teacher, but he's on another level altogether and doesn't know the more practical aspects of sorcery that Kusakabe excels in.

He's an excellent tactician. He played a crucial role in pre-planning for the Sukuna fight, creating backup plans for the backup plans. When things went sideways after Gojo's battle, he stepped up, and the other sorcerers followed his lead. He's a valuable source of guidance on and off the battlefield, identifying an opening, hitting strategic cues, and re-directing resources to support allies. He's also demonstrated an exceptional ability to adapt plans and strategies on the fly.

So that brings us to the last panel -- where he's staring down at The King of Curses, asking himself if he's willing to fight. A lot of people say no, he won't, and brand Kusakabe as a coward, but I don't follow that train of thought. There is no doubt that he will risk his own life for those he loves, and he has proven that time and time again.

He frees Panda from the isolation cell, and though he claims it's a way to repay Yaga for helping his sister and nephew, it's evident from other moments in the series that he holds a deep affection for Panda that extends beyond mere obligation.

A man who refused to enter platform BF5 for fear of encountering a special-grade curse later jumps in front of a special-grade technique cast by a special-grade sorcerer to protect Miwa.

On multiple occasions, he tells Higuruma that he will do everything in his power to protect him, even if it means giving up his own life. He doesn't hesitate to jump in when he sees Higuruma struggling to keep up with Sukuna in hand-to-hand combat, shielding him with Simple Domain. He also sends Yuji to support Higuruma when he cannot do so himself.

Everyone seems to be forgetting that Kusakabe chose to be there; he's already been fighting, and he's still there. He made it clear that only those with RCT, those who wanted to die or didn't mind dying, should be the only ones going to confront Sukuna. Some sorcerers didn't go, but Kusakabe did. When he isn't supporting others on the battlefield, he's leading the teams on the sidelines, adjusting strategies and coordinating the next round of attacks. He wants to be there; otherwise, he would have left long before things reached this point.

There is no way of knowing if Kusakabe will win; I've given up trying to figure out how Gege's mind works. But I know he will fight.

Need further proof? Let's zoom in on that last panel.

When drawing a katana, the sheath is positioned at an angle across the body, and the tsuba (handguard) is aligned with the center of the body. The sword is released from the sheath by pushing up on the tsuba with the non-draw hand and pulling it up and out with the draw hand. The index finger is relaxed until the sword reaches a point where it can be rotated for the cut.

Even as Kusakabe thinks, "Is this really happening?" he's already decided to fight and is drawing his blade.

Whatever happens, we respect Kusakabe Atsuya in this house.

#kusakabesimp #respect on my mans name #kusakabe atsuya #atsuya kusakabe #jjk kusakabe #kusakabe jjk #kusakabe #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk manga #jujutsu kaisen manga #jjk 253 #jjk spoilers #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen meta

88 notes · View notes