and by extension my honest hot take is that sasuke and gaara have a deeper basis of connection/shared trauma/fundamentally "getting" each other than gaara and naruto
like yeah theres the obvious surface level jinchuuriki thing
but in terms of actual material outcomes, it feels like there's in truth more meat there with sasuke and gaara
like sasuke is hailed as this hot genius but that is largely filtered *through naruto's perspective*, all while it's abundantly clear that sasuke does not really *aim* to be treated like that at all and that it's actually rather objectifying and alienating in its own way because barely anybody understands the *real* him at all.
Plus it doesn't really provide him any comfort or true sense of belonging, which would ironically likely work out better if people just thought of Sasuke as a *normal* guy.
Meanwhile Gaara could go "oh yeah I've also been horribly and violently betrayed by loved ones" and Sasuke could just be like "oh word?"
And Sasuke is *also* essentially thought of as a high value secret weapon and investment for the state in a way that also stigmatizes him, that's not really something *unique* to jinchuuriki anyway.
Working on a fic where Sasuke and Gaara bang each other because Naruto's getting married and they're both desperately in love with his dumb ass and they're using each other to get out their frustrations 😁😁😁😁
If there are any entries you missed, now is your time to catch up before reveals happen on Sunday 21st June!
💚💚💚
DAY 1
To The Cat Knocking Over My Bins: Stop (please?)
Rating: T, Word count: 17,442
Summary: There are two things bothering Harry:
One, he is on suspension and bored out of his mind.
Two, Draco Malfoy is missing and Ron kept this fact from him.
Harry could handle both of these things perfectly well if only this pesky cat would stop knocking over his fucking bins.
[ART] Garbage Queen
Rating: M, Art Medium: Digital Art/Comic
Summary: Draco is on the run as a cat, and is keeping an eye on things by scavenging from certain wizards that he may know.
Harry Potter has a soft spot for the pretty white stray that keeps getting into his bins.
DAY 2
Over the Garden Wall
Rating: M, Word count: 17,575
Summary: Draco did not come to the Highlands to fall in love with Harry Potter.
He came for peace, quiet, and a magical garden full of rare potion ingredients. Instead, he gets Harry Potter in the next cottage over: terrible gardener, excellent baker, devastating wearer of rolled-up sleeves, and the single worst person in Britain for Draco to be trapped beside for the summer.
DAY 3
[ART] Princess Cut
Rating: E, Art Medium: Digital art
Summary: 🎼🎶 In the fifth mini comic, Draco's true love gave to him:🎵
A 5 Carat Rinnnnnng,
4 Portkeys,
3 Orgasms,
2 Reservations,
And found Teddy necking in an alcove! 🎶
DAY 4
[Podfic] About Time by poppyhills
Rating: E, Run Time: 01:34:37
Summary: Harry Potter leads a perfectly satisfying life. He’s got friends, a successful career that allows him to travel anywhere, and no shortage of willing partners. Although, over the years, Malfoy has remained the most constant and recently, kind of the only one. But that’s not a bad thing, really, Harry’s learned. Nothing has to change between them…until it does.
Or: Cue an ancient curse, a rushed Handfasting ceremony, and discovering that maybe—just maybe—life begins when you’re forty.
DAY 5
Mine/Yours
Rating: E, Word count: 7,659
Summary: Draco has had a terrible day at the office. Harry is a good husband who makes it all better.
DAY 6
yield
Rating: E, Word count: 9,400
Summary: a heat wave, a thunderstorm, the overlap of spring into summer. everyone knows, and yet.
this is all still a Before.
DAY 7
How Hermione Started Shipping Drarry - A podfic
Rating: E, Run Time: 53:40
Summary: Dumped by her boyfriend and needing somewhere to stay, all Hermione wants to do is get comfort from her best friend. But there's just one problem. Harry is incomprehensibly living with that pointy git, Draco Malfoy.
This is 100% Drarry but from Hermione’s POV. How does that work? Read it and find out!
DAY 8
Collapsing Walls and Improving Relationships
Rating: E, Word count: 9,305
Summary: Harry becomes Draco's flatmate a year after they graduate Hogwarts, clueless not only to Draco's preferences, but his own. Draco is living his best life, bringing near strangers to the flat multiple times a week, and Harry simply can't handle it. At first, he thinks he's being homophobic, but after a vague conversation with Ron, he slowly realizes he's feeling an altogether different emotion. He isn't homophobic. He's jealous.
DAY 9
Wings
Rating: E, Word count: 8,217
Summary: Harry tries to court Draco pureblood-style. Draco beats him to it. Also, Draco has wings.
[ART] Icarus Eat Your Heart Out
Rating: T, Art Medium: Digital Art
Summary: I gave Draco Malfoy wings like you asked. :)
DAY 10
[Podfic] Draco Malfoy has a Podcast! by DracoAbraxas
Rating: T, Run Time: 01:04:46
Summary: Harry Potter is recently divorced, emotionally spiralling, and just trying to survive. When he discovers Draco Malfoy has a fashion podcast, it is apparently the last straw. He instantly becomes obsessed; how dare Malfoy be happy? One live-show ambush and a whiskey-fueled argument later, can Harry realise he has been focused on the wrong problem?
OR Everyone has a podcast now.
[ART] Speak Up
Rating: E, Art Medium: Digital Art
Summary: Draco has never been one to keep quiet.
DAY 11
Harry's Hairy Crime
Rating: E, Word count: 7,889
Summary: Draco and Harry are both famous fashion models, top of the industry in London. Harry makes a sudden change to his appearance that everyone in the fashion industry absolutely hates, and Draco is sure he'll finally become the number one model.
The very hairy emotions Harry's new style is making Draco feel, is not what he had in mind...
[ART] Prophet
Rating: G, Art Medium: digital, ibis paintx
Summary: Fine shyt (Draco Malfoy) winking at the camera, featured in the prophet.
DAY 12
[ART] Harry ‘minuteman’ Potter
Rating: E, Art Medium: Digital Art
Summary: Digital art for your eyeballs to feast. The devil is in the details.
Harry Potter is a mad stalker, completely obsessed with Draco Malfoy. Draco expects as much, obviously.
aka Harry can get it but doesn't know what to do with it, type shit.
Come Out, Come Out
Rating: E, Word count: 8,513
Summary:
"Draco was his. He was his prize; a pet, a sacred thing that Harry had kept alive while Draco tried his best to wither away."
For months, Harry has been a ghost in the shadows of Malfoy Manor, memorizing every line of Draco’s body from the dark and collecting pieces of his life. But when Draco brings two girls back to his bed in a desperate gamble to draw the monster out, Harry’s patience completely shatters.
Stepping out from behind the velvet curtains, Harry decides it’s time to take total control, and teach his spoiled little pet exactly who he belongs to.
If there are any entries you missed, now is your time to catch up before reveals happen on Sunday 21st June!
💚💚💚
DAY 1
To The Cat Knocking Over My Bins: Stop (please?)
Rating: T, Word count: 17,442
Summary: There are two things bothering Harry:
One, he is on suspension and bored out of his mind.
Two, Draco Malfoy is missing and Ron kept this fact from him.
Harry could handle both of these things perfectly well if only this pesky cat would stop knocking over his fucking bins.
[ART] Garbage Queen
Rating: M, Art Medium: Digital Art/Comic
Summary: Draco is on the run as a cat, and is keeping an eye on things by scavenging from certain wizards that he may know.
Harry Potter has a soft spot for the pretty white stray that keeps getting into his bins.
DAY 2
Over the Garden Wall
Rating: M, Word count: 17,575
Summary: Draco did not come to the Highlands to fall in love with Harry Potter.
He came for peace, quiet, and a magical garden full of rare potion ingredients. Instead, he gets Harry Potter in the next cottage over: terrible gardener, excellent baker, devastating wearer of rolled-up sleeves, and the single worst person in Britain for Draco to be trapped beside for the summer.
DAY 3
[ART] Princess Cut
Rating: E, Art Medium: Digital art
Summary: 🎼🎶 In the fifth mini comic, Draco's true love gave to him:🎵
A 5 Carat Rinnnnnng,
4 Portkeys,
3 Orgasms,
2 Reservations,
And found Teddy necking in an alcove! 🎶
DAY 4
[Podfic] About Time by poppyhills
Rating: E, Run Time: 01:34:37
Summary: Harry Potter leads a perfectly satisfying life. He’s got friends, a successful career that allows him to travel anywhere, and no shortage of willing partners. Although, over the years, Malfoy has remained the most constant and recently, kind of the only one. But that’s not a bad thing, really, Harry’s learned. Nothing has to change between them…until it does.
Or: Cue an ancient curse, a rushed Handfasting ceremony, and discovering that maybe—just maybe—life begins when you’re forty.
DAY 5
Mine/Yours
Rating: E, Word count: 7,659
Summary: Draco has had a terrible day at the office. Harry is a good husband who makes it all better.
DAY 6
yield
Rating: E, Word count: 9,400
Summary: a heat wave, a thunderstorm, the overlap of spring into summer. everyone knows, and yet.
this is all still a Before.
DAY 7
How Hermione Started Shipping Drarry - A podfic
Rating: E, Run Time: 53:40
Summary: Dumped by her boyfriend and needing somewhere to stay, all Hermione wants to do is get comfort from her best friend. But there's just one problem. Harry is incomprehensibly living with that pointy git, Draco Malfoy.
This is 100% Drarry but from Hermione’s POV. How does that work? Read it and find out!
DAY 8
Collapsing Walls and Improving Relationships
Rating: E, Word count: 9,305
Summary: Harry becomes Draco's flatmate a year after they graduate Hogwarts, clueless not only to Draco's preferences, but his own. Draco is living his best life, bringing near strangers to the flat multiple times a week, and Harry simply can't handle it. At first, he thinks he's being homophobic, but after a vague conversation with Ron, he slowly realizes he's feeling an altogether different emotion. He isn't homophobic. He's jealous.
DAY 9
Wings
Rating: E, Word count: 8,217
Summary: Harry tries to court Draco pureblood-style. Draco beats him to it. Also, Draco has wings.
[ART] Icarus Eat Your Heart Out
Rating: T, Art Medium: Digital Art
Summary: I gave Draco Malfoy wings like you asked. :)
DAY 10
[Podfic] Draco Malfoy has a Podcast! by DracoAbraxas
Rating: T, Run Time: 01:04:46
Summary: Harry Potter is recently divorced, emotionally spiralling, and just trying to survive. When he discovers Draco Malfoy has a fashion podcast, it is apparently the last straw. He instantly becomes obsessed; how dare Malfoy be happy? One live-show ambush and a whiskey-fueled argument later, can Harry realise he has been focused on the wrong problem?
OR Everyone has a podcast now.
[ART] Speak Up
Rating: E, Art Medium: Digital Art
Summary: Draco has never been one to keep quiet.
DAY 11
Harry's Hairy Crime
Rating: E, Word count: 7,889
Summary: Draco and Harry are both famous fashion models, top of the industry in London. Harry makes a sudden change to his appearance that everyone in the fashion industry absolutely hates, and Draco is sure he'll finally become the number one model.
The very hairy emotions Harry's new style is making Draco feel, is not what he had in mind...
[ART] Prophet
Rating: G, Art Medium: digital, ibis paintx
Summary: Fine shyt (Draco Malfoy) winking at the camera, featured in the prophet.
DAY 12
[ART] Harry ‘minuteman’ Potter
Rating: E, Art Medium: Digital Art
Summary: Digital art for your eyeballs to feast. The devil is in the details.
Harry Potter is a mad stalker, completely obsessed with Draco Malfoy. Draco expects as much, obviously.
aka Harry can get it but doesn't know what to do with it, type shit.
Come Out, Come Out
Rating: E, Word count: 8,513
Summary:
"Draco was his. He was his prize; a pet, a sacred thing that Harry had kept alive while Draco tried his best to wither away."
For months, Harry has been a ghost in the shadows of Malfoy Manor, memorizing every line of Draco’s body from the dark and collecting pieces of his life. But when Draco brings two girls back to his bed in a desperate gamble to draw the monster out, Harry’s patience completely shatters.
Stepping out from behind the velvet curtains, Harry decides it’s time to take total control, and teach his spoiled little pet exactly who he belongs to.
If there are any entries you missed, now is your time to catch up before reveals happen on Sunday 21st June!
💚💚💚
DAY 1
To The Cat Knocking Over My Bins: Stop (please?)
Rating: T, Word count: 17,442
Summary: There are two things bothering Harry:
One, he is on suspension and bored out of his mind.
Two, Draco Malfoy is missing and Ron kept this fact from him.
Harry could handle both of these things perfectly well if only this pesky cat would stop knocking over his fucking bins.
[ART] Garbage Queen
Rating: M, Art Medium: Digital Art/Comic
Summary: Draco is on the run as a cat, and is keeping an eye on things by scavenging from certain wizards that he may know.
Harry Potter has a soft spot for the pretty white stray that keeps getting into his bins.
DAY 2
Over the Garden Wall
Rating: M, Word count: 17,575
Summary: Draco did not come to the Highlands to fall in love with Harry Potter.
He came for peace, quiet, and a magical garden full of rare potion ingredients. Instead, he gets Harry Potter in the next cottage over: terrible gardener, excellent baker, devastating wearer of rolled-up sleeves, and the single worst person in Britain for Draco to be trapped beside for the summer.
DAY 3
[ART] Princess Cut
Rating: E, Art Medium: Digital art
Summary: 🎼🎶 In the fifth mini comic, Draco's true love gave to him:🎵
A 5 Carat Rinnnnnng,
4 Portkeys,
3 Orgasms,
2 Reservations,
And found Teddy necking in an alcove! 🎶
DAY 4
[Podfic] About Time by poppyhills
Rating: E, Run Time: 01:34:37
Summary: Harry Potter leads a perfectly satisfying life. He’s got friends, a successful career that allows him to travel anywhere, and no shortage of willing partners. Although, over the years, Malfoy has remained the most constant and recently, kind of the only one. But that’s not a bad thing, really, Harry’s learned. Nothing has to change between them…until it does.
Or: Cue an ancient curse, a rushed Handfasting ceremony, and discovering that maybe—just maybe—life begins when you’re forty.
DAY 5
Mine/Yours
Rating: E, Word count: 7,659
Summary: Draco has had a terrible day at the office. Harry is a good husband who makes it all better.
DAY 6
yield
Rating: E, Word count: 9,400
Summary: a heat wave, a thunderstorm, the overlap of spring into summer. everyone knows, and yet.
this is all still a Before.
DAY 7
How Hermione Started Shipping Drarry - A podfic
Rating: E, Run Time: 53:40
Summary: Dumped by her boyfriend and needing somewhere to stay, all Hermione wants to do is get comfort from her best friend. But there's just one problem. Harry is incomprehensibly living with that pointy git, Draco Malfoy.
This is 100% Drarry but from Hermione’s POV. How does that work? Read it and find out!
DAY 8
Collapsing Walls and Improving Relationships
Rating: E, Word count: 9,305
Summary: Harry becomes Draco's flatmate a year after they graduate Hogwarts, clueless not only to Draco's preferences, but his own. Draco is living his best life, bringing near strangers to the flat multiple times a week, and Harry simply can't handle it. At first, he thinks he's being homophobic, but after a vague conversation with Ron, he slowly realizes he's feeling an altogether different emotion. He isn't homophobic. He's jealous.
DAY 9
Wings
Rating: E, Word count: 8,217
Summary: Harry tries to court Draco pureblood-style. Draco beats him to it. Also, Draco has wings.
[ART] Icarus Eat Your Heart Out
Rating: T, Art Medium: Digital Art
Summary: I gave Draco Malfoy wings like you asked. :)
DAY 10
[Podfic] Draco Malfoy has a Podcast! by DracoAbraxas
Rating: T, Run Time: 01:04:46
Summary: Harry Potter is recently divorced, emotionally spiralling, and just trying to survive. When he discovers Draco Malfoy has a fashion podcast, it is apparently the last straw. He instantly becomes obsessed; how dare Malfoy be happy? One live-show ambush and a whiskey-fueled argument later, can Harry realise he has been focused on the wrong problem?
OR Everyone has a podcast now.
[ART] Speak Up
Rating: E, Art Medium: Digital Art
Summary: Draco has never been one to keep quiet.
DAY 11
Harry's Hairy Crime
Rating: E, Word count: 7,889
Summary: Draco and Harry are both famous fashion models, top of the industry in London. Harry makes a sudden change to his appearance that everyone in the fashion industry absolutely hates, and Draco is sure he'll finally become the number one model.
The very hairy emotions Harry's new style is making Draco feel, is not what he had in mind...
[ART] Prophet
Rating: G, Art Medium: digital, ibis paintx
Summary: Fine shyt (Draco Malfoy) winking at the camera, featured in the prophet.
DAY 12
[ART] Harry ‘minuteman’ Potter
Rating: E, Art Medium: Digital Art
Summary: Digital art for your eyeballs to feast. The devil is in the details.
Harry Potter is a mad stalker, completely obsessed with Draco Malfoy. Draco expects as much, obviously.
aka Harry can get it but doesn't know what to do with it, type shit.
Come Out, Come Out
Rating: E, Word count: 8,513
Summary:
"Draco was his. He was his prize; a pet, a sacred thing that Harry had kept alive while Draco tried his best to wither away."
For months, Harry has been a ghost in the shadows of Malfoy Manor, memorizing every line of Draco’s body from the dark and collecting pieces of his life. But when Draco brings two girls back to his bed in a desperate gamble to draw the monster out, Harry’s patience completely shatters.
Stepping out from behind the velvet curtains, Harry decides it’s time to take total control, and teach his spoiled little pet exactly who he belongs to.
As hinted, here's Modulo Yuuji Time Travel Wednesday #1 💖
I probably don't need another time travel idea, but *gestures at Modulo Yuuji* Just look at him. I gotta. I actually have two such ideas that've been bouncing around in my head, but this is the one that's been haunting me since Chapter 20 came out.
The time travel(er) insertion point is the Shinjuku Showdown—specifically the moment before Gojou's death.
Also, I said in my last WIP Wed post that I was writing the first part of a two-part series, but I scrapped that idea and have kept it as just a oneshot. The current fic is also intended to be a oneshot. Even after finishing the oneshot marathon, I'm in oneshot land 🤣
Itadori Yuuji is a fifteen-year-old boy. Cute and tough and helplessly charming. The most adorable monster Satoru’s ever known.
The arms cradling him now don’t belong to a boy. The face peering down at him isn’t all that cute either—but it is very handsome. And it’s far too early to tell whether Yuuji’s retained his charm, but Satoru knows a monster when he sees it.
He keeps an absent eye on Sukuna as he takes in his rescuer and their surroundings. They’re on the roof of one of the intact buildings at the edge of the wasteland Satoru and Sukuna have made of Shinjuku, at least a kilometer away from where Satoru was standing a moment ago, prematurely triumphant and more vulnerable than he was even when facing down Fushiguro Tōji.
The distance is no detriment to his sight. Down there, Sukuna looks confused, and he’s as much of a mess as he was in the aftermath of Satoru’s final and most potent Hollow Purple. His cursed-energy sensing must be severely affected if he hasn’t detected Satoru yet. It likely helps that he’s instinctively tamped down on his cursed energy.
His knight in lackluster armor is doing the same, and the efficiency of his suppression is frankly mind-boggling coming from someone without the Six Eyes.
Those eyes have shifted from Satoru to Sukuna now. There’s not much of an expression on Yuuji’s face, but the neutral set of his features makes him look somber and distant—nothing like that fiery sunburst of a boy who wore his emotions openly and entirely even when he was sliding the weight of the weight onto his shoulders. Satoru didn’t help, did he? He just added his own dream to the weight.
There’s something else too, mundane in light of everything else but striking all the same. Yuuji’s favored oversized hoodies for as long as Satoru’s known him, delighting even in the unsolicited alteration Satoru made to his uniform, but he’s never worn those hoods up. But this man’s face is shrouded in shadows, the hood pulled down low over his eyes. It’s no obstacle to Satoru’s eyes, but anyone else would only see a scar-touched mouth and the tip of a nose.
“You know,” Satoru says, and he keeps his voice low, hushed, but it stills feels like he’s breaking something sacred, “I thought you’d grow out of this style a few years down the line. Don’t tell me your fashion sense never got any better.”
There’s a strangled noise. Not quite a laugh, not quite anything else.
And for the first time, this strange new version of Yuuji speaks: “Is that really what you should be focusing on right now?”
Satoru shrugs, the motion made a little awkward by how Yuuji’s still got him in a bridal carry. What a gentleman.
He reaches up, shoving the hood off unceremoniously. Yuuji blinks, once, and Satoru already knew that his eyes are the same warm brown of the boy who sent him off barely an hour ago with hope and faith and a firm, grounding touch, but it’s funny how the same color can look so different on the same face.
“You’ve certainly grown up,” Satoru murmurs, feeling strangely wistful. He lets his fingertips brush the top of Yuuji’s hair. It’s shorter than Satoru’s used to, the spiky strands near the front leaving the forehead exposed. Even if he ruffled it, it wouldn’t settle gently down. He lowers his hand to Yuuji’s right ear, smoothing his thumb along flesh that’s apparently long healed. “In more ways than one.”
Yuuji’s lips twitch, the ghost of a smile there and gone. His eyes drift downward, staring blankly at Satoru’s midriff.
Before either of them can say anything else, there’s a whole lot of commotion below—an explosion of cursed energy followed by raised voices.
Satoru refocuses on Sukuna in time to watch one of the incarnated sorcerers allied with them engage him in battle. Higher up in the sky, an icicle forms and melts, dropping a weapon that’s undoubtedly a powerful cursed object.
There’s that white-haired monk too, at least until Hakari spirits them away to his domain.
“Oh,” says Yuuji. “I’d forgotten this part.”
“If they’re already executing the backup plans, they must think I’m out of the game. So impatient, honestly. But I can’t really blame them either. You did swoop in and right back out. Did they even see you? None of Mei’s crows are here—though I might have killed a bunch with that last Purple.”
Yuuji hums noncommittally. “They probably didn’t see me. And that guy’s going to die.”
“Kashimo, wasn’t it?” Satoru asks idly, eying the figure shrouded in lightning. “He did make quite a fuss about my fighting Sukuna first—I was quite offended at the implication.
“He didn’t want us to interfere in your fight with Sukuna. I remember that. The others stopped Okkotsu-senpai because Sukuna might have been planning something, but for him, it wasn’t that about that. Warrior’s pride, maybe.”
“You don’t sound very impressed.”
“Pride is pointless.”
Satoru blinks. Yuuji’s expression doesn’t become any less opaque.
“You’ll have to elaborate on that someday,” Satoru tells him. “For now, aren’t you going to rescue him?”
“No.”
“No,” Satoru repeats, surprised…and something else. A strange feeling in his bones, writhing in his spine. “That’s not like you.”
“Isn’t it?” Yuuji asks dully. He stares into Satoru’s eyes for a moment before frowning, more thoughtful than bothered. “Guess it wasn’t. But that was a long time ago, sensei.”
“You’re, what, twenty-five? Thirty?” Satoru scans Yuuji’s features more carefully—the skin is unwrinkled, and there’s no grey in his hair. He’s older for sure, but he could be anywhere between twenty or thirty. “I suppose it would be half a lifetime for you.”
Yuuji says, “I’m eighty-five.”
“…Come again?”
“Long story.” A slight frown mars Yuuji’s expression for a millisecond, before his features smoothen back out. “Or a very short one, I guess. You can see it, right? Those eyes of yours—they can see what I am.”
It’s not a question; it’s not even a statement that compels an answer.
Satoru still looks, fully ignoring the battle raging below to focus on the man holding him. The most unique web of cursed energy he’s ever seen brands itself into his mind.
It’s more complex than the mess Yuuji made of his body and his soul by consuming Sukuna’s fingers, and it’s not even comparable to what he looked like to Satoru’s eyes when he emerged from the Prison Realm and found his favorite student in the process of slowly but thoroughly breaking down a total of six distinct cursed-energy signatures. Even after the integration was complete, Yuuji felt like a human—like a sorcerer.
That’s still there. An essential quality no curse can replicate, no matter how human they look. Yuuji’s flesh and blood, not pure curse given form. But Satoru wouldn’t quite call him human anymore.
He’s felt something similar, quite recently even. This is a lot like how the Death Painting who calls himself Yuuji’s brother registers in Satoru’s senses. But there’s a world of difference between them in terms of power—not just the sheer quantity of Yuuji’s cursed energy but also the refinement and control that are evident even as Yuuji simply stands there without even a spark of it at his fingertips.
“Ah,” Satoru breathes. “Your body went and changed on me again, Yuuji. It keeps doing that.”
“No,” says Yuuji, and he finally, gently sets Satoru down. “Not on you. Not this time.”
It’s tacit confirmation of something Satoru already assumed. He steps away from Yuuji, just enough that he can properly stand facing him. They’re nearly the same height now, Yuuji just a few centimeters shorter. It’s a drastic difference from what Satoru’s used to. Growth spurts are gradual things. Satoru’s seen his fair share of students shoot up over the years, though few reached his height—story of his life, really. But it’s another thing entirely to blink and be eye to eye with a boy you could tuck under your chin just this morning.
Yuuji doesn’t look nonplussed by their matching stature, but his expression isn’t so blank anymore either. There’s a strange new intensity to his gaze as it bores into Satoru, threatening to make the Six Eyes feel inadequate.
Satoru can understand though. This must be new to Yuuji too.
After all— “I didn’t survive, huh.”
Yuuji doesn’t reply, but the next moment, the same impossible arc of cursed energy that’d have cut through Infinity and Satoru both tears through the air below, and the sorcerer wreathed in lightning escapes it by a hair’s breadth.
“I couldn’t see it then,” Yuuji says. “Did you?”
“If I had,” Satoru says drily, “I’d have dodged.”
Yuuji, still looking at Satoru rather than the battle below, only stares for another long moment.
Then he nods. “I always thought that. But I wondered, sometimes.”
Satoru frowns. “Yuuji—
“I wouldn’t have blamed you, sensei,” Yuuji says serenely. “Even before I really understood, I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
Excerpt from a rant I wrote under a Woochul fanfic dissecting their relationship in Solo Lev Ragnarok
Spoilers from Solo Leveling Ragnarok Chapters 301 and 302
Chapter 301: SJW most concern about WJC back on Earth and WJC's struggle with PTSD from previous timeline and yearning a god out of reach
Some background spoiler relevant to our boys: in Ragnarok sjw has to leave Earth again to fight against the outer gods, and on Earth wjc locked in the moment gates start appearing (hes a veteran atp XD being one of the only ones who remember the past timeline and all) and created the Association and took the lead
WJC, still A rank, started doping (the steroids joke in this fic is real now!!) on rune stones to increase his strength to the point his body cant handle it, but sjw, extremely worried, before he left (or he made his son do it for wjc i forgot), did smth i forgot specifically to help only wjc to adjust to the influx of mana ;-; THEYRE BFS YOUR HONOR
Wjc in the new timeline is still alone :( the novel literally show how how trapped and haunted by the past life he still is and that has taken extreme measures to prep humanity for the inevitable war that will take place (he fears it daily), then he has no one and the only important person to him is literally a god, out of reach for him ;-; UGH THE ANGST
And about him remembering, in solo lev side stories even sjw was surprised that wjc managed to remember, meaning he remembered sjw on INSTINCT, bro forced himself to chase those memory fragments himself T^T and then chapter 301 in ragnarok had sjw literalky going the person im most concerned for on earth is wjc bc hes always overworking, to the point sjw had to erase his memories multiple bc of the immense ptsd wjc experiences, but wjc remembers on his own EVERY SINGLE TIME, even pleaded with sjw not to erase it.
"A comrade. The only colleague who shares the old memories with me."
[A human with memories of the previous era… If that's the case, he must be playing a big role in this chaotic time, so why are you so worried?]
"…Because he might overwork himself."
[Hmm?]
Sung Jinwoo couldn't help but smile bitterly at the Ruler's question.
"He's that kind of person."
"Yes. Actually, Sung Jinwoo tried to erase Woo Jinchul's memories several times for his sake. But it was no use. Having already formed a deep connection with Sung Jinwoo, The flashbacks of the previous era were no longer mere fragments of memories. Because the events involving the king who ruled death, the great Shadow Monarch Sung Jinwoo, were engraved deep within his soul, beyond his human body… Sung Jinwoo, feeling concerned as he thought of Woo Jinchul, turned his gaze back to the fierce battlefield and muttered,"
Bonus banter excerpt:
"- Actually, I'm just unpopular. Whenever I go on blind dates, they all say my eyes are too scary, chug their coffee, and quickly pack their things.
– …Chief, when's your birthday? I'll buy you some luxury sunglasses."
Solo Lev Ragnarok chapter 33 of the manhwa, when wjc gets reintroduced, his work desk, no pic of family, wife, whatever, the singular pic on his desk was a pic of him WITH SJW!!! wjc is the chairman of the association rn, and ughh on Earth he literally vowed to protect sjws family no matter what to repay the insurmountable debt that he owes him bc he doesnt know how else or what he can even offer to a god. And tank you sm for giving wjc such a lovely family here bc wjc literally went "im an orphan, no fam, no kids no wife, but its better that im alone anyway bc i can focus on protecting himanity without liabilities"
Chapter 302: Kintsugi symbolism in relation to SJW dealing with WJC overdosing on rune stones
god x overworked mortal trope except the mortal is constantly yearning for the other and anguish over not being able to offer/help the other more who is practically a transcendental being beyond the limits of human, with said god constantly making sure said human is okay despite being worlds away and reminiscing and worrying about him... Bromance so peak its romance--
Also if you care to know, i just reread chapter 302 of Ragnarok too and omg, wjc doping for power buff literally make his body start cracking and disintegrating, but sjw's help goes beyond just "making it so his body can adapt to influx of mana", no its more beautiful than that (he passed the soulstone to beru then beru brought it back to earth and gave it to sjw son to use it on wjc)
The novel literally invoked/likens the process to Kintsugi
"– An art that doesn't restore something to its perfect, new state, but rather makes it more beautiful by filling the broken parts with gold. It's just like our lives. – And he (Suhos art teacher speaking btw) continued his explanation.
– A vessel is bound to break someday. We too, in the storms of life, are sometimes hurt, cracked, broken, and even collapse. But is there anything perfect in the world?
And in this moment, It was only natural for Suho to recall that day's memory.
– …To finally love even that imperfection. To accept the scars accumulated in our souls as their own beauty. And those accumulated scars of life are the true history of our struggles…
'Golden joinery' (cues wjc cracks glowing and bro start ascending JK JK, but he he gloing a blind goldenlight)
It wasn't just a simple repair, but a sublimation through scars…"
Oml sjw is literally saying "i love every scars you have because they craft the essence of your being. Your scars are beautiful and i love your imperfections because theyre you"
"Javier's Soulstone. The magic circle of Sung Jinwoo contained within, that mystical golden light, was running through the cracks that were spreading throughout Woo Jinchul's body.
Whoosh—!
It was like the roots of a tree, spreading its branches, Like an intricately crafted spider web, Like the hands of a craftsman repairing a broken ceramic. Sung Jinwoo's barrier began to meticulously stitch together Woo Jinchul's cracked vessel, the history of his struggles, with golden thread."
Rathen than just fixing him because hes broken, its "ceramic being reborn by the hands of a craftsman" which in kintsugi means clueing the pieces together with gold again to not only accentuates the beauty in imperfection but also giving rise to an entirely new kind of beauty ykwim.
These are all canon materials i cannot believe it!! Okay everyone, its chapter 301 and 302 in ragnarok for Woochul crumbs- not even crumbs, its in our face!!
Apologies for any awkward order or wording, these were taken straight from a comment section where i got too passionate spreading the words on Dauls (the author of Ragnarok) choice to give this much depth to Woochul.
As hinted, here's Modulo Yuuji Time Travel Wednesday #1 💖
I probably don't need another time travel idea, but *gestures at Modulo Yuuji* Just look at him. I gotta. I actually have two such ideas that've been bouncing around in my head, but this is the one that's been haunting me since Chapter 20 came out.
The time travel(er) insertion point is the Shinjuku Showdown—specifically the moment before Gojou's death.
Also, I said in my last WIP Wed post that I was writing the first part of a two-part series, but I scrapped that idea and have kept it as just a oneshot. The current fic is also intended to be a oneshot. Even after finishing the oneshot marathon, I'm in oneshot land 🤣
Itadori Yuuji is a fifteen-year-old boy. Cute and tough and helplessly charming. The most adorable monster Satoru’s ever known.
The arms cradling him now don’t belong to a boy. The face peering down at him isn’t all that cute either—but it is very handsome. And it’s far too early to tell whether Yuuji’s retained his charm, but Satoru knows a monster when he sees it.
He keeps an absent eye on Sukuna as he takes in his rescuer and their surroundings. They’re on the roof of one of the intact buildings at the edge of the wasteland Satoru and Sukuna have made of Shinjuku, at least a kilometer away from where Satoru was standing a moment ago, prematurely triumphant and more vulnerable than he was even when facing down Fushiguro Tōji.
The distance is no detriment to his sight. Down there, Sukuna looks confused, and he’s as much of a mess as he was in the aftermath of Satoru’s final and most potent Hollow Purple. His cursed-energy sensing must be severely affected if he hasn’t detected Satoru yet. It likely helps that he’s instinctively tamped down on his cursed energy.
His knight in lackluster armor is doing the same, and the efficiency of his suppression is frankly mind-boggling coming from someone without the Six Eyes.
Those eyes have shifted from Satoru to Sukuna now. There’s not much of an expression on Yuuji’s face, but the neutral set of his features makes him look somber and distant—nothing like that fiery sunburst of a boy who wore his emotions openly and entirely even when he was sliding the weight of the weight onto his shoulders. Satoru didn’t help, did he? He just added his own dream to the weight.
There’s something else too, mundane in light of everything else but striking all the same. Yuuji’s favored oversized hoodies for as long as Satoru’s known him, delighting even in the unsolicited alteration Satoru made to his uniform, but he’s never worn those hoods up. But this man’s face is shrouded in shadows, the hood pulled down low over his eyes. It’s no obstacle to Satoru’s eyes, but anyone else would only see a scar-touched mouth and the tip of a nose.
“You know,” Satoru says, and he keeps his voice low, hushed, but it stills feels like he’s breaking something sacred, “I thought you’d grow out of this style a few years down the line. Don’t tell me your fashion sense never got any better.”
There’s a strangled noise. Not quite a laugh, not quite anything else.
And for the first time, this strange new version of Yuuji speaks: “Is that really what you should be focusing on right now?”
Satoru shrugs, the motion made a little awkward by how Yuuji’s still got him in a bridal carry. What a gentleman.
He reaches up, shoving the hood off unceremoniously. Yuuji blinks, once, and Satoru already knew that his eyes are the same warm brown of the boy who sent him off barely an hour ago with hope and faith and a firm, grounding touch, but it’s funny how the same color can look so different on the same face.
“You’ve certainly grown up,” Satoru murmurs, feeling strangely wistful. He lets his fingertips brush the top of Yuuji’s hair. It’s shorter than Satoru’s used to, the spiky strands near the front leaving the forehead exposed. Even if he ruffled it, it wouldn’t settle gently down. He lowers his hand to Yuuji’s right ear, smoothing his thumb along flesh that’s apparently long healed. “In more ways than one.”
Yuuji’s lips twitch, the ghost of a smile there and gone. His eyes drift downward, staring blankly at Satoru’s midriff.
Before either of them can say anything else, there’s a whole lot of commotion below—an explosion of cursed energy followed by raised voices.
Satoru refocuses on Sukuna in time to watch one of the incarnated sorcerers allied with them engage him in battle. Higher up in the sky, an icicle forms and melts, dropping a weapon that’s undoubtedly a powerful cursed object.
There’s that white-haired monk too, at least until Hakari spirits them away to his domain.
“Oh,” says Yuuji. “I’d forgotten this part.”
“If they’re already executing the backup plans, they must think I’m out of the game. So impatient, honestly. But I can’t really blame them either. You did swoop in and right back out. Did they even see you? None of Mei’s crows are here—though I might have killed a bunch with that last Purple.”
Yuuji hums noncommittally. “They probably didn’t see me. And that guy’s going to die.”
“Kashimo, wasn’t it?” Satoru asks idly, eying the figure shrouded in lightning. “He did make quite a fuss about my fighting Sukuna first—I was quite offended at the implication.
“He didn’t want us to interfere in your fight with Sukuna. I remember that. The others stopped Okkotsu-senpai because Sukuna might have been planning something, but for him, it wasn’t that about that. Warrior’s pride, maybe.”
“You don’t sound very impressed.”
“Pride is pointless.”
Satoru blinks. Yuuji’s expression doesn’t become any less opaque.
“You’ll have to elaborate on that someday,” Satoru tells him. “For now, aren’t you going to rescue him?”
“No.”
“No,” Satoru repeats, surprised…and something else. A strange feeling in his bones, writhing in his spine. “That’s not like you.”
“Isn’t it?” Yuuji asks dully. He stares into Satoru’s eyes for a moment before frowning, more thoughtful than bothered. “Guess it wasn’t. But that was a long time ago, sensei.”
“You’re, what, twenty-five? Thirty?” Satoru scans Yuuji’s features more carefully—the skin is unwrinkled, and there’s no grey in his hair. He’s older for sure, but he could be anywhere between twenty or thirty. “I suppose it would be half a lifetime for you.”
Yuuji says, “I’m eighty-five.”
“…Come again?”
“Long story.” A slight frown mars Yuuji’s expression for a millisecond, before his features smoothen back out. “Or a very short one, I guess. You can see it, right? Those eyes of yours—they can see what I am.”
It’s not a question; it’s not even a statement that compels an answer.
Satoru still looks, fully ignoring the battle raging below to focus on the man holding him. The most unique web of cursed energy he’s ever seen brands itself into his mind.
It’s more complex than the mess Yuuji made of his body and his soul by consuming Sukuna’s fingers, and it’s not even comparable to what he looked like to Satoru’s eyes when he emerged from the Prison Realm and found his favorite student in the process of slowly but thoroughly breaking down a total of six distinct cursed-energy signatures. Even after the integration was complete, Yuuji felt like a human—like a sorcerer.
That’s still there. An essential quality no curse can replicate, no matter how human they look. Yuuji’s flesh and blood, not pure curse given form. But Satoru wouldn’t quite call him human anymore.
He’s felt something similar, quite recently even. This is a lot like how the Death Painting who calls himself Yuuji’s brother registers in Satoru’s senses. But there’s a world of difference between them in terms of power—not just the sheer quantity of Yuuji’s cursed energy but also the refinement and control that are evident even as Yuuji simply stands there without even a spark of it at his fingertips.
“Ah,” Satoru breathes. “Your body went and changed on me again, Yuuji. It keeps doing that.”
“No,” says Yuuji, and he finally, gently sets Satoru down. “Not on you. Not this time.”
It’s tacit confirmation of something Satoru already assumed. He steps away from Yuuji, just enough that he can properly stand facing him. They’re nearly the same height now, Yuuji just a few centimeters shorter. It’s a drastic difference from what Satoru’s used to. Growth spurts are gradual things. Satoru’s seen his fair share of students shoot up over the years, though few reached his height—story of his life, really. But it’s another thing entirely to blink and be eye to eye with a boy you could tuck under your chin just this morning.
Yuuji doesn’t look nonplussed by their matching stature, but his expression isn’t so blank anymore either. There’s a strange new intensity to his gaze as it bores into Satoru, threatening to make the Six Eyes feel inadequate.
Satoru can understand though. This must be new to Yuuji too.
After all— “I didn’t survive, huh.”
Yuuji doesn’t reply, but the next moment, the same impossible arc of cursed energy that’d have cut through Infinity and Satoru both tears through the air below, and the sorcerer wreathed in lightning escapes it by a hair’s breadth.
“I couldn’t see it then,” Yuuji says. “Did you?”
“If I had,” Satoru says drily, “I’d have dodged.”
Yuuji, still looking at Satoru rather than the battle below, only stares for another long moment.
Then he nods. “I always thought that. But I wondered, sometimes.”
Satoru frowns. “Yuuji—
“I wouldn’t have blamed you, sensei,” Yuuji says serenely. “Even before I really understood, I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
puppy!caleb x zayne // hybrid au // the title says it all (fluff) // 1k words
zayne might’ve spoiled his dog a bit too much.
(aka: serious surgeon adopts a clingy puppy hybrid who grows up into a 6'2 obsessed himbo that calls him “mate.”)
the day the hybrid rights act passed, the ministry wasted no time assembling specialized task forces to raid illegal facilities, tearing down the remnants of the organizations that had long exploited hybrids. dr. zayne li wasn’t a government agent, but his expertise as a cardiac surgeon made him invaluable in the rescue efforts. he wasn’t just patching up survivors—he was bearing witness to the horrors inflicted on them.
but none of it prepared him for the moment he found her.
a samoyed hybrid woman lay on the cold floor of a metal cage, her breath shallow, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. beside her, a small white-furred pup whimpered, his tiny frame pressed against her side. she barely had the strength to lift a hand toward zayne as he crouched beside her, his gloved fingers checking her pulse. weak. too weak.
"please... my son..." she whispered.
zayne felt something tighten in his chest. "hold on. we can help you."
she exhaled, a shuddering breath that carried the weight of a mother’s final plea. her hand slipped from his grasp.
zayne stared, his jaw tightening. his colleagues moved around him, calling out medical statuses, securing hybrids, ensuring no one was left behind. but in that moment, all zayne could focus on was the tiny pup clinging to his coat, burying his face against the fabric, his small body trembling.
"you shouldn't," one of the officers warned, eyeing the pup warily. "procedure says—"
"i know," zayne cut in, his voice sharper than usual. he adjusted his grip, lifting the pup carefully. "but you tell me—what am i supposed to do? leave him?"
the officer hesitated, then sighed, looking away. "just be careful, doc."
zayne didn't hesitate. he tucked the pup inside his coat, feeling the small warmth press against him as he stood. "i always am."
bringing the pup home was the easy part. raising him? that was another matter entirely.
zayne lived a structured life—work, sleep (barely), and repeat. now, he had a tiny, energetic samoyed hybrid puppy wreaking havoc in his apartment.
the pup had an insatiable appetite for sweets, often sneaking bites of zayne’s desserts despite his grumbling protests. he also had a desperate need for affection, constantly clinging to zayne’s leg, or curling up beside him at night, soft whimpers escaping when zayne tried to put him in a separate bed.
zayne spoiled him rotten. he told himself it was just to help the pup adjust, but even he couldn’t deny that when those big, round eyes looked up at him, tail wagging, ears twitching—he gave in every single time.
one night, after a long shift, zayne came home to find the pup asleep on his pillow, his tiny body curled up with zayne’s long coat draped over him.
zayne sighed. “you’re supposed to sleep in your own bed.”
the pup yawned, blinking up at him, then promptly rolled onto his back, exposing his belly in surrender.
zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “...fine. just this once.”
it was never just once.
⋆°🐾˖°⋆°🐾˖°⋆°🐾˖°⋆°🐾˖°⋆°🐾˖°⋆°🐾˖°⋆°🐾˖°⋆°🐾˖°⋆°🐾˖°
the first time caleb transformed, it was a messy, clumsy thing. one second, zayne was making coffee. the next, he turned around to see a small boy with fluffy white ears and a wagging tail sitting on his kitchen floor, staring up at him with wide violet-indigo eyes.
zayne nearly dropped his mug. "what—?"
the boy's ears perked up. "zay!"
zayne blinked. "you—can talk?"
the boy nodded eagerly. "uh-huh! i learned! name’s caleb!"
zayne rubbed his temple. this was happening too fast. "you—okay, caleb. where are your clothes?"
caleb tilted his head, then looked down at himself. he was in nothing but fur and his own tail wrapped around him like a makeshift blanket.
"...oh."
zayne exhaled. "wait here."
he left the kitchen and returned with one of his old dress shirts. it was far too big, the sleeves covering caleb’s hands entirely, but the boy grinned, wagging his tail as he hugged the oversized fabric.
"warm!" caleb declared.
zayne sighed. "...we'll get you actual clothes tomorrow."
caleb only beamed, tail thumping against the floor. "love zay!"
zayne froze. "...what?"
caleb blinked up at him, as if the answer was obvious. "love zay. zay is home."
zayne wasn’t a sentimental person. he was pragmatic, logical, reserved. but something about the unwavering trust in caleb’s voice made his throat tighten.
he knelt down, resting a hand on the boy’s head, fingers threading through soft brown hair and scratching gently behind one furry ear.
"...yeah," he said quietly. "i’m home."
and caleb just smiled, tail wagging happily.
but overtime, the pup grew... clingy.
at first, zayne chalked it up to fear. caleb followed him everywhere—the kitchen, the study, even the bathroom door if zayne wasn’t fast enough to close it. a small boy, no older than five in appearance, with fluffy white ears and a bushy tail, latched onto his leg and refused to let go.
“caleb,” zayne sighed, reaching down to pry him off. “i need to go to work.”
“no,” caleb said, muffled against zayne’s pant leg.
“you can’t just say ‘no’—”
“i can!” his tail wagged as he clung tighter. “you’re my mate, so you should stay with me!”
zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “you don’t even know what that means.”
“yes, i do!” caleb insisted, ears perked in determination. “mates stay together forever. and when i grow up, i’ll marry you!”
zayne assumed it was just a phase. caleb would grow out of it. surely.
(he didn't.)
hybrids grew up quickly, their aging slowing only once they reached adulthood.
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and caleb grew up becoming a strong, capable young man. he excelled at physical training, eventually joining the air force as a pilot, his hybrid instincts making him exceptionally skilled in the air.
zayne, ever the workaholic, continued his life as a cardiac surgeon (now chief), watching as caleb carved his own path.
but some things never changed.
even as an adult, caleb still sought out zayne’s warmth, draping himself over the surgeon’s shoulders after a long day, ears twitching as he listened to zayne mutter about work. and zayne, despite all his protests, never pushed him away.
instead, he reached up, fingers gently brushing through caleb’s hair, scratching just behind his fluffy ears in the way he liked.
caleb’s tail flicked in satisfaction.
zayne shook his head. "you’re too spoiled..."
and caleb just laughed, snuggled even closer.
what also hadn’t changed was his possessiveness.
zayne learned this the hard way when a deliveryman came by with a package.
“please sign here, sir,” the courier said, barely hiding the nervous tremble in his voice.
that was because caleb, standing behind zayne, had an arm looped around his waist, pressing against his back like a shield. his violet-indigo eyes locked onto the poor deliveryman like he was an intruder in his territory.
zayne sighed. “caleb.”
caleb’s grip tightened.
zayne elbowed him in the stomach—lightly, since he knew it wouldn’t do much—but it was enough for caleb to reluctantly let go. “i don’t like him,” caleb muttered under his breath, ears twitching in irritation.
the courier forced out a nervous laugh. “i, uh, i’m just here for the package, sir—”
caleb growled.
the mailman audibly gulped.
zayne signed the form, shoving it back into the poor man’s hands before caleb could do something stupid. as soon as the door shut, he turned to caleb with his arms crossed.
“you need to stop that.”
caleb huffed, crossing his own arms in defiance. “you don’t need other people when you have me.”
“that’s not how this works.”
“that’s how mates work,” caleb shot back.
zayne exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. “you’re not a kid anymore, caleb. you know i don’t see you like that.”
caleb’s ears flicked down, then back up, his expression unreadable. “...i know,” he murmured. then, more firmly, with a slow smile creeping onto his face, “but that’ll change soon.”
zayne had a feeling he wouldn’t like what caleb meant by that.
I didn’t call you misogynist irl, sorry that it makes you more upset than misogyny in the fandom ;(((. but i do think you have noticeable biases. we all do, that’s not something new. that’s what i wrote, that you are trying to ignore these biases. but i know that self reflection is a lot to ask from fujo
you are perhaps my most loyal hater so far and i appreciate your dedication, anon <3 i am glad that, instead of blocking me for my yaoi fanart and stop interacting with my account in general, you chose to stick around :) to honor your persistence and loyalty, i will continue to draw yaoi to honor you
Look. It’s been 14 years, but it still looks like we need to have this conversation.
It was never a question whether the Argents were gonna kill Derek Hale or not. Some of them were ALWAYS out to kill him in the beginning. Even with Scott’s diplomatic skills, Derek was NEVER safe from them for the first two seasons. Kate. Gerard. Victoria. Even Chris and Allison were planning to take him down.
So he said Scott. My brother in lycanthropy. I need a pack. They killed my whole family. They’re gonna kill us too
Scott said Nah bro. I’d rather have dinner with those people because THEY’RE NICER THAN YOU
And Derek said Fine. Then I will start a new pack. Cause, you know. I’M GONNA DIE BY MYSELF
And then Scott was like :0 YOU’RE A BAD PERSON AND I HATE YOU
