#and yet there's not even a SINGLE moment of fan service OR misogyny???

[dyahere]

i just watched the mtp OVAs they were SO good especially the 2nd one

[ratmonky]

Deceitful Curse

Word Count: 10K

Warnings: non-con, stalking, obsession, mild blood, chikan, gaslighting, manipulation, humiliation, degradation, misogyny, exhibitionism

AO3 Link

As promised, this will be a gift fic for my lovely friend @lyrrotting​ , I promise I will write your four armed Sukuna fic soon to make up for this shitty fic lol <3 

It was said that most people had an angel sitting on their right shoulder and a devil sitting on their left shoulder, the two bickered into the person’s ears about many things. While the devil would try to tempt the person, the angel would become the sound of conscience.

However, Yuuji only had the King of Curses whispering in his ear and he himself had to be the voice of conscience within his own mind.

Certainly, there would be a time he would be tempted to listen.

~~~

Life was good, Yuuji had already graduated over a year ago and gotten his sorcerer license to work until his inevitable execution.

Life was good, everyone had moved on with their lives. Inumaki had gotten a girlfriend, Fushiguro had a girlfriend and from what he heard, Maki and Kugisaki were dating each other.

Life was good, they were all happy.

Life was good, everyone else was happy.

~~~

There was a new coffee shop that had opened just two blocks down from where he lived. Naturally, Yuuji wanted to check it out for the sole purpose of seeing how big the place was. When he invited his friends over to his place and if they ever stayed the night, he wanted to have a place he could take them to for a brunch or a cup of coffee.

Unfortunately for him, the place was small. There were barely a dozen tables and nobody seemingly wanted to sit at the cramped coffee shop when they could walk to the nearby park to enjoy their coffee.

The place was crowded due to rush hour so he returned a couple of hours later to finally order something.

As soon as he walked inside, the sugary smell of the sweets and the strong aroma of the coffee surrounded him.

“Welcome!” said a cheerful voice. It was you, beaming at him with the brightest smile he had ever seen on anyone. It looked too genuine to be a fake service worker's smile.

He hesitantly walked up to the counter with a blush coloring his cheeks from the intensity of your smile that was aimed towards him. “Hi,” he said before lifting his eyes up to the menu displays. “Ah.” He had no idea what to get. “Takeaway, I think, and ahh… Um…”

As if you noticed his struggle, you started talking. “If you like sweets I’d recommend my special summer drink. If you like coffee, I can give you the best brew in the whole city. It isn't strong but the aroma actually tastes like fresh coffee beans, I roast them fresh every day.” You were so bright, still smiling. Didn’t your cheeks hurt? How could anyone be this sweet? “Or I can choose a drink for you! Trust me, I’ll make it count!”

He understood none of the things you were saying but he felt like he could trust you to choose a drink for him, so he nodded approvingly.

Clapping your hands together, you walked behind the coffee machine and disappeared from his view. “You live around here?”

Yuuji was caught off guard and didn’t realize you were talking to him for a while until you repeated your question. “Ah, yes! I live around the corner.”

“I’ll do my best to impress you so you’ll buy coffee from here every day.” Your tone wasn’t flirty. It was friendly and inviting, actually welcoming.

“That’s a good business tactic,” he said, matching your tone. “But I’m not that easy to impress.”

“Isn’t my prices enough to impress you? They’re rather cheap for the service you get and I’m not even talking about the quality of my products.” You reappeared with a plastic coffee mug, it had ice and apparently black coffee in it. You poured some sort of golden cream over the coffee on the counter where he could see it.

Like hypnotized, Yuuji watched with his mouth wide open as the two colors mixed in a gradient effect in his drink before you put a lid on it.

“Was that good enough?” you asked, proudly. “To impress you I mean.”

“Y-yeah.” He reached and took the drink you set on the counter. He was carefully examining the colors in awe when he abruptly realized that he hadn’t even paid yet. Hastily he dug his hand in his pocket and took out his wallet, “I’ll come here more often I think if I like the drink of course.”

“Hmm, you’ll like it so I’m not worried.” You smiled as he paid with his credit card. “See you later…” Furrowing your burrows, you looked at him so he would fill in.

“Itadori,” he introduced himself, blushing. “Yuuji Itadori.”

“(name),” you said, offering a cute smile. “Have a nice day, Itadori.”

“Y-you too.” He waved awkwardly and you did the same with a giggle. It was clear that he was a little overwhelmed.

By the time Yuuji exited the shop, he hadn’t realized how hard he was blushing or how he had forgotten to even try his drink. Then he blushed even harder realizing how embarrassing he acted back in the shop but he shook his head to get over those thoughts.

Decidedly, he took a sip from his coffee and immediately understood why you were so confident that he would be back to buy more.

~~~

The next day, it wasn’t exactly the incredible coffee you had sold him yesterday that brought him here.

It was you.

He was trying to convince himself that wasn’t the case though.

However, Sukuna knew the truth.

~~~

“Being single sucks!” Yuuji complained with a whine after slamming his empty glass on the table.

“You should try those dating apps if you really want a girlfriend,” Fushiguro replied and flicked the ash off his cigarette on the ashtray.

“I agree, Itadori, if you really are determined to be in a relationship then you should try meeting new people.” Yuuta fanned the smoke Fushiguro blew towards him away using his hand with a forced smile.

Inumaki nodded in agreement, continuing to munch on the salted crackers and avoiding drinking.

“It’s easy for all of you with pretty girlfriends to say!” Panda cried, “It’s only me and Itadori who’s single.” He wrapped his big arms around Yuuji and started rocking back and forth.

“You can always book a flight to China to meet with a female Panda?” Yuuji said in a confused tone, “Or the zoo?”

Panda froze and loosened his arms around Yuuji before pushing him away from himself. “That was rude.”

“Huh?” Yuuji raised a brow, still confused.

“His type is more… humane, I think.” Yuuta scratched at his cheeks and raised his brows, hoping that Panda would deny what he just said but he didn’t.

“Wait.” Yuuji’s eyes widened, “So, you’re telling me that it would actually work between you and a human, or is it-”

“Itadori,” Fushiguro said to stop Yuuji from delving deeper into the uncomfortable topic. “Leave Panda’s love life alone.”

“Hmm, why did you bring up the topic of wanting to get a girlfriend?” Yuuta asked, humming thoughtfully. “Do you have someone you like?”

“Deja vu,” Panda mumbled under his breath, nobody heard him.

As soon as the question was asked to him, Yuuji thought of one single person; you. The image of your smile and your cheerful voice. It was just a simple crush, the two of you were total strangers. Yet, he was still thinking about you right now and couldn’t get you out of his mind.

He suppressed all of those thoughts and noticed how everyone was looking at him, waiting for his answer.

“No, I don’t,” Yuuji replied.

~~~

Unlike Sukuna, Yuuji was an inexperienced young man. He was a celibate too. Which meant that to him, sexual desires had to come after love. The feelings of love and affection were important when it came to sex. Having sex was an act of love and a form of affection, to prove to the person he was involved with that he was devoting himself to them.

Pathetic.

The kid had already grown up to be an adult but still had the mentality of a child.

Sukuna knew he could help.

~~~

“You’re coming here more often now,” Sukuna pointed out. “Is it because you know the server likes you?”

“No, she doesn’t like me,” Yuuji deadpanned. He pouted cutely seconds later and watched you walk over to his table holding a tray with his drink on it with a bright smile. “I’m here only because this place makes the best coffee.”

“Here you go,” you chirped, putting Yuuji’s drink on the table. Your friendly smile and gorgeous eyes wandered on his face for a moment longer than usual. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.” He was blushing.

You flashed him another stunning smile before turning around on your heels.

“She’s into you,” Sukuna declared.

Yuuji ignored Sukuna’s words and stared after you as you walked back to the counter to take another order. His eyes couldn’t leave the way your hips moved with each step you took.

Sukuna’s lips on Yuuji’s hand grinned before disappearing.

~~~

“The girl looks like her,” Sukuna said.

“Will you be quiet?” Yuuji groaned and slapped his cheek so he would go away.

It was silent, he smiled to himself. Finally, he had some privacy.

The porn actress spread her legs and Yuuji wrapped his left hand around his cock after licking his palm as he was holding his phone with his right. He slid his fist up along his length and squeezed tightly towards the tip. The pressure felt the best when he applied it to the sensitive tip.

Loud moans coming from the actress filled his apartment since he hadn’t bothered to put on headphones. Not that he needed them when he was living alone but it was a habit now. So, he lowered the volume.

However, there was another reason why he didn’t need to hear the moans of the actress.

“She doesn’t sound like her, does she?” Sukuna made fun of him.

Yuuji ignored him and didn’t bother to tell him that it wasn’t the case. He just needed to cum and go to bed, that was it. He was too used to Sukuna interrupting his self-care time at this point and if the King of Curses didn’t mind watching a guy jerk off to some cheap porn, so be it. They were sharing Yuuji’s body and mind. Or not?

Yuuji focused on the video as the girl bent over and started fingering herself in an awkward position. His hand around his cock started moving to match the way her fingers went in and out of her cunt.

She really looked like you.

Wasn’t that why he had chosen this video?

Nevermind. Forget about it.

He had read or heard somewhere that masturbating with the non-dominant hand could give more pleasure. It was something he had done when he was only a teenager to try it out but now he liked to use his left hand.

It felt different, sometimes his hand went numb and it felt like someone else was touching him. You were touching him.

You.

This had to be how a handjob felt, if you ever gave him a handjob it would definitely feel like this.

Yuuji dropped the phone and closed his eyes, only focusing on his fantasies about you while jerking himself off. His hand moved faster while his hips were desperately thrusting up as if to mimic fucking you.

You would tease him, wouldn’t you? Stare at him with a grin, edge him and even slow down just to make him whine.

Or perhaps you would get rid of your clothes hurriedly to ease yourself down on his cock. Were you a virgin? You would be his first, he would want you to be your first too.

Were you the type to whimper or moan during sex?

Where would you place your hands?

Would you move your hips?

Which position would make you lose yourself?

He would want to be on top, so he could watch your face and kiss you.

What kind of face would you make?

Would you be blushing and moaning?

The image of your eyes overflowing with tears while your face was being stained with the same tears and your ruined makeup appeared within his mind.

Yuuji abruptly came harder than he ever had in his whole life and his seed landed on his stomach, his orgasm left his legs shaking in pleasure.

~~~

He didn’t go to the coffee shop the day after from embarrassment.

~~~

“You weren’t here yesterday,” you remarked while making his drink. “I was sure you were going to be here after I made you my new drink on the menu.”

“Ahh, I was just busy and didn’t have time to swing by.” It was a simple lie and it wasn’t like he could ever tell you that he was scared of himself after he came to his fantasy of seeing you cry. “I didn’t think you’d miss me this much.”

“Well, you’re my only loyal customer,” you pouted and put his drink on the counter. Nobody else was in the shop, another coffee place had opened just around the corner. “You always drink my special brew coffee too. It’s like an honor to me that you like my coffee.”

“It’s the best coffee I’ve ever had,” his reply was instantaneous and honest. “I like this place, I can tell how much love you put into making your drinks and it feels cozy here.”

You were grinning, “Mm, tell me more. Praise me more. What else?”

He started smirking but his blush ruined the smug face he was making. “Never mind, you’re weirding me out.”

“Hey! I was just asking you what else you like about my place! What’s weird about wanting to know how I can make this place better?” you feigned anger.

He wanted to tell you that he was only coming here for you. Wait, no. He came here for the coffee. Nothing else.

“What about making new drinks every week? They’d sell more and you’d get to try out new things?” he said after careful thinking.

“That’s actually a good idea, thank you, Itadori!”

Ahh, the way you said his name… Yuuji wanted to hear you say his name again and again. Over and over again.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, rubbing his neck nervously with his hand. “I’m just trying to help.”

~~~

It started with small words of encouragement.

“That woman likes you, I can tell from the way she smiles at you. Talk to her more and befriend her.”

“It’s not like you to say nice things,” Yuuji said, averting his gaze from yours in embarrassment when you looked his way. He hoped you hadn’t caught him looking. “Besides, she’s just a server. It’s her job to attract customers with a smile and sweet talk.”

“Every server needs a master,” Sukuna spoke through Yuuji’s hand. Nobody could see him since the guy had his hand pressed against his ear. “She doesn’t look at you the same way she looks at the other peasants here.”

Yuuji didn’t say anything.

~~~

His finger hovered over the follow button.

”That’s her?” Sukuna asked, his ancient soul was getting used to the technology he saw his vessel was using. “Those are her pictures?”

“Yeah.” Yuuji gulped, nodding languidly. It would be weird if he followed you, right? He had found your account by chance. Not because he found the account of your coffee shop and then scrolled through the following list to find a friend of yours and then searched through their following list to find your name to eventually find your account. Only by chance.

“She looks different in the pictures.” Sukuna was right. You were smiling as usual but you weren’t wearing your cafe uniform. You were wearing normal clothes. Clothes that revealed more of your skin, your shoulders, legs, thighs, and in some pictures your cleavage. There was a smug look on your face when you were looking at the camera as if you knew whoever was looking at these pictures was admiring your beauty.

“Yeah, she does.” He was now looking at a picture of you in a dress that fit you just right, showing your curves he hadn’t noticed in your uniform.

“She’s beautiful.” Sukuna could sense the intensity of his vessel’s stare at your picture.

“Yeah.”

“I’d save that picture if I were you.” Sukuna grinned.

Yuuji took a screenshot.

~~~

“You should be more assertive if you want her to consider you as a man,” Sukuna said as Yuuji was walking towards the coffee shop. “Women like confident men.”

“You come from the ancient times, this is the new age. Women are equal with men and I want her to feel-”

“Women want men. Not boys. Definitely not brats like you.” Sukuna disappeared when his vessel entered the coffee shop.

Yuuji sighed in a dismissive manner, “Whatever you say.”

~~~

Women want men.

~~~

“What do women like in a man?” Yuuji asked.

The happy laughter of the guys died out as soon as he asked that and the loud chatter of the other people inside the bar couldn’t fill the dead silence Yuuji created.

They were all looking at each other around the table now. Nobody wanted to talk.

“I guess they like guys who are assertive,” Yuuta responded when no one else did. “Megumi, why don’t you say something? What does your girlfriend like about you?”

Fushiguro was inanimate as he stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray and took a long moment to consider what he was going to say. “She said that likes that I’m possessive and get jealous when she talks to other guys.”

“Hmm, possessive and jealous...” Yuuta nodded and then turned to Inumaki. “And your girlfriend liked that she can depend on you, right?”

“Salmon.”

“There you have it,” Yuuta concluded. “They like possessive guys who they can depend on!”

“What about you, Okkotsu?” Yuuji asked. “What does your girlfriend like about you?”

The person in question looked a little lost and taken aback that he was being asked. He had to take a deep breath to keep his facial expressions normal. “She likes that I take control.”

“How?” Yuuji was desperate.

“Isn’t that a bit invasive question, Itadori?” Fushiguro warned in a soft tone.

“It’s not invasive at all!” Yuuta forced a laugh and spoke in the same joking manner. “It means that I was a little pushy and bold, I think?”

Both Fushiguro and Inumaki started agreeing.

“I see.” Yuuji realized that Sukuna was right.

~~~

“Isn’t that her picture?”

Yuuji ignored him and continued rubbing his cock.

His hand started moving faster, his eyes were trained on the picture of you, eyes roaming on your body and imagining how it would feel to run his hands along your curves.

“She looks like she’d love taking it from her ass.”

“Shut up, she’s not like that!” he immediately protested. His cheeks were bright red from shame. He had never done it to the pictures of the people he had met. Only celebrities. It didn’t feel right.

“She’s a woman. I know what women want and like.” Sukuna was confident. “I know exactly what she wants, unlike you.”

Yuuji tried blocking out the curse’s voice in his head and tightened his grip as well as his pace. He was imagining you again, eyes full of tears and you were twisting your body to push him weakly away with your tiny hands as he took you from behind.

Thanks to that fantasy, he came in an instant.

~~~

Yuuji was a good guy.

He was sacrificing his life to save others every day and he was going to be executed for the sake of saving humanity from the curses.

He could never be the bad guy.

~~~

“Welcome,” you chirped as soon as he walked through the door. “The usual?”

Yuuji awkwardly smiled and bowed his head to greet you. “Y-yeah.”

“Had a good day?” Turning around, you walked away from the counter to reach the coffee machine, disappearing from his view.

Yuuji made his way towards the counter and tried recalling how his day had been. He had exorcised a couple of curses and even got the opportunity to catch up with Fushiguro and his girlfriend when they ran into each other downtown. To put it simply, his day had been the worst. “It was a good day, how was yours?”

Dumb.

You were only making small talk because he was a regular here, nothing more. He knew people who worked in small coffee shops like this were always friendly to attract customers, to give a sense of home to people who come here for a drink or the tasty sweets. It was a marketing strategy.

“My day was tiring. I took your advice and put a new drink on the menu but apparently, it’s really good because everyone wanted to try it. However, the thing is… it’s so hard to make it!!” You appeared in front of him again with his drink and pointed behind you, at the menu displays. “I ran out of strawberries twice and had to call to ask my friend to go buy some from the store for me.”

“Woah, that sounds really exhausting!” he said in a tone to match your own while you were making a cutesy pouting face. “Hmm.” There was a momentary pause as he took his coffee from you and grinned. “I changed my mind, I also want to try this incredibly hard-to-make drink too.”

Your shoulders slacked and you gave an exaggerated sigh. “I thought you of all people would pity me…”

“I’m known for being ruthless,” he joked, chuckling. The smile on his face was genuine and he couldn’t stop smiling, it was as if he could never be in a bad mood around you. “But yes, I was joking. No need to call a friend to buy more strawberries or anything.”

You pointed a finger at him with mock threat and anger. “Don’t make fun of me or I won’t serve you again.”

“That’s better than threatening to spit in my coffee.” He tilted his head and shrugged.

“You said it as if I don’t do it all the time.” You raised a brow.

Both of you laughed but once the joke died out, there was an awkward silence.

“Anyway,” you said, gesturing towards one of the tables you clearly had wiped and cleaned because you were getting ready to close the place. “You can take a seat there if you wanna, I sadly have to finish up cleaning.”

When he looked around he could see that there was a mop you were planning to use. He didn’t want to disturb you any longer. It would be weird if he sat down when you were desperately trying to close the shop for the night.

It was rude and you were only being polite to him.

“I’ll drink this on the way home,” Yuuji replied with a nervous grin, and the tension from your shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Have a good evening!” you chirped after him as he turned around his heels.

“You too!” He exited the shop.

“Coward,” Sukuna spat.

“Please, be quiet.” Not again. Not this devil again.

“You could’ve fucked her against that counter. She was all over you, begging for you to make a move.” There was an undeniable smile in his voice.

“Be quiet, will you?” No. You were just an innocent girl. Someone who was nice to him because he came to buy coffee. He was just a customer.

“You, brat, are going to die as a celibate if you keep this up. Have you ever stick it inside a woman before? Do you have any idea of how heavenly a woman’s warmth is? The way they squirm and moan under you as they give you the look of an angel’s and beg for you to take it slow, cling onto you with tiny little hands-”

“Shut up!” Yuuji slammed the coffee on the concrete ground, his chest heaving in anger and frustration.

Some passersby stared at him and walked further away from where he was standing.

Sukuna disappeared with a smile.

Yuuji took a deep breath to calm himself.

~~~

The bells over the wooden door chimed, announcing his arrival.

“Hi!” you quickly yelled and appeared by the counter, your smile widened when you realized it was Yuuji. “The usual?”

“You don’t need to ask,” he replied, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He felt like himself in here, he felt at home.

“Did you have a good day?” you asked before disappearing behind the coffee machine.

“It was a bad day until I came here,” he said lumberingly, his cheeks flushed from nervousness. He was terrible at flirting.

You laughed, he couldn’t see your reaction but you sounded happy when you spoke. “Ahh, I’m glad I’m able to make you happy! It brings me joy when I manage to help others have a good day in one way or another!”

So kind and selfless.

The two of you were a perfect match.

Seconds later you were standing in front of him with his drink on top of the counter. “I hope you’ll have a great rest of the night, Itadori! I’m glad my coffee was able to help you feel better.”

He opened his mouth to say that it wasn’t the coffee that made him happy but he closed it when he realized how weird it would sound. “Thank you.”

~~~

“I like you and I think we should hang out sometime,” he said, smiling awkwardly. Seconds of silence passed and he slapped a hand on his face in embarrassment. After taking a deep breath he tried again. “Do you wanna go out for dinner this weekend?”

“You are acting like a brat,” Sukuna mocked. “Go up to her and tell her you to want to make her yours like a real man.”

Yuuji ignored him while staring at his reflection in the mirror and groaned. He hated when Sukuna said things that made sense.

His clothes were ironed and his hair was slicked back with the hair gel he had bought in a rush.

“You look pathetic.” Brutally honest, Sukuna’s voice had a tone of embarrassment in it. He was ashamed of living inside him.

“I look good.” Yuuji wasn’t going to let him ruin this moment. He was going to prove to everyone else that he could get the girl if he acted like himself. There was no need to be pretending something he wasn’t when it came to you. He knew you would want him to be honest.

“She’s going to reject you, brat. Don’t ridicule yourself and take my advice.”

“What’s your advice?” Yuuji scoffed, “Manhandle her?”

“You’re feeling the instinct of mating and lust,” Sukuna said. “You want to fuck her, you don’t want to make love to her or whatever the humans call it.”

“What?” Yuuji forced a smile on his face and laughed hysterically, “Are you even hearing what you’re saying?”

“Love isn’t real. Obsession, lust, and devotion are real though. You want to breed her. Don’t mix up libido with what peasants would call love.”

There was a grim pause.

“I like her,” Yuuji said. “She’s pretty and she seems like a nice person. Her smile is cute and-”

“Do whatever you want, brat,” Sukuna yawned, getting ready to disappear from Yuuji’s cheek. “Try not to throw a tantrum when you get rejected.”

“You were the one who told me to go up to her and make her mine?” Frustrated, Yuuji rolled his eyes in irritation.

“Making some woman yours doesn’t mean to woo her or make love to her. Are all brats the same as you? Don’t you know that women are pleasure dolls for men? They live to please men.” Sukuna was getting serious, he raised his voice with each sentence. “Women are like fish, they don’t have feelings.”

“That’s not true.” Yuuji’s voice got a little weaker than he had intended to. “You’re wrong.” It didn’t sound like he was denying what Sukuna had said and trying to convince himself that wasn’t the truth instead.

Sukuna disappeared from his cheek with a malicious grin.

Shaking his head to gather his thoughts, Yuuji quickly walked out of his room and exited his apartment.

It took him twenty minutes to get to the coffee shop when it usually took him barely ten minutes. He had gotten flowers for you. Not really sure which ones to get, he had chosen one of the pink and red bouquets on display. He was nervous and sweating. He had to wipe his palms down on his jeans to keep them dry way too many times, he had stopped counting after the seventh time.

He stood outside of the cafe, trembling in excitement. There weren't any windows at your coffee shop thus he couldn’t see if there were any customers inside. He could only hope that it would be just the two of you alone since there was something very special he needed to tell you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

He grabbed the handle and opened the door. You were behind the counter, looking down at your phone. As soon as the bells over the door chimed you put it away and smiled, “Welcome!”

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Yuuji’s grip tightened around the bouquet he was holding, his cheeks started burning in nervousness.

“Woahh, you’re going on a date?” you asked while he walked up to the counter, your voice was as cheerful as ever. “I couldn’t recognize you, should I give you the usual?”

“Uhh, no.” He paused. When both of you stared at each other he realized how awkward and confusing his answer was. “Um, it’s not a date but I’m gonna ask the girl I like out.” His face was turning beet red.

“Aww, that’s so adorable! She’s so lucky, you’ve even bought her flowers, so cutee!!” You pressed a hand over your chest, feigning being hurt. “Ahh, my heart can’t handle it.”

“Y-yeah.” He blushed harder, shifting his weight on his feet nervously. “She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

“You better treat her right then and I hope she’ll say yes.” You didn't miss the eyes on you and continued smiling in discomfort. “The usual?” you asked once it started getting a little too quiet and he nodded.

The uncomfortable silence started making Yuuji reconsider what to say or if he should say them at all. You put his coffee on the counter before he could take his time thinking.

“Is that all?” you asked as you were putting his order’s total into the cash register.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

“N-no,” he replied in a quiet voice while reluctantly taking out his wallet to pay for his coffee.

“I hope you have a lovely night, Itadori. Go get the girl!” you cheered him on with a cute smile.

“Actually,” he started, looking at you with his flushed cheeks and fidgeting with his fingers. “Ahh, (name), I wanted to tell you something.”

“Hmm, what is it?” You were smiling, watching him in confusion.

Yuuji decided that he shouldn’t beat around the bush at this moment because he wanted to seem confident. He knew if he didn’t spit it out now or else he would never say it. He had to get to the point and dive in ahead without any hesitation.

“I like you.”

Lifting the bouquet, he held it up towards you as you looked at him and then at the bouquet repeatedly with wide eyes but you didn’t seem shocked.

You opened your mouth to say something but closed it again.

“I mean, you’re such a nice person and I found myself always looking forward to seeing you. I think about you all the time and I can’t get you out of my head. I used to hate it here, it’s a large city with too many people… but then you took over this shop, and now I… don’t hate it that much.”

He was saying all that with a puffed chest and a big goofy grin on his face, his cheeks were blushing as he tried not to look nervous. However, when he saw the way your smile curled down to a frown as he kept on talking, it felt like someone poured iced water down his head.

Yuuji couldn’t breathe.

“Um, that’s flattering,” you said, forcing a smile on your face and taking the bouquet from him. “Were these for me?”

“Y-yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

You nodded languidly, noticing that you were the girl he wanted to ask out. “I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You couldn’t find the words that wouldn’t hurt him.

Gradually, he noticed how uncomfortable you looked and his smile disappeared from his face.

“I’m sorry but I’m not looking for a relationship, I’m really busy with working and taking care of this cafe but I appreciate your feelings.” You averted your gaze from him for a moment, a scoff left your lips. Were you laughing at him? “I apologize if my affable demeanor gave you the wrong idea but sadly I can’t return your feelings.”

He looked down to his feet to pull himself together, an icy shiver ran through him as he spoke. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

So childish.

“Of course,” you said, forcing a chuckle.

“I hope we can still be friends, I wouldn’t wanna lose you.” Yuuji was desperate, he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

“Of course!” you repeated with a louder forced chuckle. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship!”

“Me neither.” He couldn’t lift his head or move, his body had turned to stone.

The pauses started to grow longer and eerily quiet. You were the one who spoke next.

“Thank you so much, Itadori, I’m flattered by your confession and I hope we can be close friends!” Pressing the bouquet on your chest and hugging it with both arms, you used a soft tone to talk to him. “I need to close down and catch the train home, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah…” Yuuji turned around and walked out of the cafe without saying anything else, leaving the coffee he had paid for on the counter.

“I told you, didn’t I, brat?” Sukuna mocked, voice full of mischief as he appeared on his vessel’s cheek.

“Leave me alone,” Yuuji hissed. He was walking away from the coffee shop, not going home though, not yet. He needed to calm down.

“Women want to be ordered around, brat. They want men to take control. If you act like a brat, they won’t see you as a man.”

Yuuji’s breath hitched upon hearing Sukuna’s words. His knees started feeling weaker than they ever could but he had to stand proud, assert his dominance over the King of Curses and collect himself.

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that he was in this situation, it wasn’t fair that he was rejected, it wasn’t fair that he was cursed to live in despair. He was eventually going to get executed and he hadn’t had a youth where he fulfilled any of his dreams. He had wanted only one thing, to feel happy with one person and that childish wish must have been too much to ask. Not only he got rejected but now he had Sukuna making fun of him.

“You must be a man and make her yours.”

“She told me she didn’t want a relationship.” Yuuji couldn’t deal with him anymore. “We’re friends.”

“Do you want a woman for yourself or not, brat?” Sukuna sighed in irritation before humming thoughtfully. “I’ll help you,” he offered generously, “I’ll help you make her yours.”

“Leave me alone, Sukuna.” Yuuji was getting angrier, and soon he started to tremble in rage.

“Let me help you to get a taste of a woman, brat.”

“She rejected me-”

“She’s just playing hard to get. A woman like her wants to be chased. She didn’t tell you to get lost because she wants you to keep coming back to her so you’ll continue to give her your attention. That girl would spread her legs for anyone who gives her attention if she wasn’t a prude. She’s a virgin, that must be why she’s acting like this. I can smell it, the blood that’s yet to bleed once her innocence is taken. You need to take it, brat.”

“You want me to rape her, is that it?” Yuuji spat, he had never thought he would say those words out loud.

“I never said that, brat.” Sukuna let out a chuckle, lying. “Let me show you what I mean.”

“I’m not letting you take over my body,” he replied coldly.

“I don’t want to take over your body, that woman is yours,” Sukuna assured.

“Then, what do you want me to do?” Yuuji asked.

Sukuna grinned viciously, “Let's go back to where she works first.”

~~~

“Itadori-”

The door closed after him with a soft click.

You let out a frustrated sigh and pressed the bouquet against your chest, hugging them tightly.

That hadn’t gone well at all.

Your eyes landed on the coffee he forgot to take with him on the counter. “I’m the worst,” mumbling, you put the flowers on the counter to prepare the cafe for closing.

You took the paper coffee mug and poured it out, the dark liquid went down the sink as you watched, hypnotized and lost in your thoughts.

That guy… He wasn’t like any other you met. He was adorable and matched your energy like no other person ever had. You enjoyed being around Itadori and you were glad he felt the same but… he knew you for less than two weeks. He was clearly confused, he had made a friend who he managed to click instantly and mistook his feelings for love.

Nonetheless, you felt terrible. It was never easy to reject someone, especially when you were so busy trying to manage the coffee shop of your dreams you finally got to open.

Itadori had to understand that. He would understand, right?

Oh, he had looked so excited and nervous. He had even slicked his messy hair back and brought flowers…

You hoped he would get over it quickly or at least, he would come to the shop tomorrow so you could comfort him. The two of you needed to talk a little more, you needed for him to know that you didn’t want to break his heart. You felt the need to apologize, ahh, so stupid. You hadn’t even done anything wrong.

It hurt though.

It still hurt.

You hated making other people feel bad. You wanted to be the reason behind their smiles and laughter, not tears.

Packing your stuff and turning off the lights, you left the shop. The door was locked two times as usual before you hurried down the street towards the subway.  

The station was packed more than usual and you immediately regretted not listening to your friend’s advice on renting that one apartment down the block. But complaining right now wasn’t going to get you home.

You hopped on the train and shielded the bouquet with your arms wrapped around it as you tried not to get crushed by the swarm of people getting on the train. Once the doors closed, you had successfully managed to find a place by the train door with a little space so you could avoid getting the bouquet crushed.

Facing the doors, you stared out the small window, it was dark but every second or another a light would zoom in and out. You weren’t sure if they were there for navigating or not but you found yourself too focused on the lights as the sudden brake of the train made you stumble forward.

When you regained your balance to stand up straight, there was someone behind you. They were a little too close but it was nothing out of the ordinary, you always found yourself being pressed against other people during rush hours in the subway.

At the next stop, the doors on the opposite side opened and another swarm of people filled the train. Now, the person behind you was trapping you between their body and the door that was in front of you.

You were showing extra carefulness to not let the bouquet get crushed, you wanted to take it home in one piece without anything happening to it. These flowers were beautiful, they smelled amazing too. You wanted to cherish them even if you hadn’t managed to cherish Itadori’s feelings.

As you were inspecting the bouquet you saw a small card that was attached to one of the flowers. You checked it and realized what it was.

It was Itadori’s phone number and a cute little heart drawn next to it with a small message.

‘I’d love to hear more of your voice and complaints about work in private!!’

You didn’t realize you were smiling at the note until something brought you out of your trance.

A voice to be exact.

“Your lover got them to you?” A husky voice asked.

Lifting your head, you stared at the small window. From the almost transparent reflection on the window, you could see that the guy behind you had talked. You couldn’t see his face from his hoodie covering his features but you could tell that he was talking to you.

“Um, not really,” you replied. It wasn’t abnormal to you that other people made small talk to you, you talked to strangers more than anyone else every day. You always overshared anyway. “They are from a close friend.”

“He must love you.” There was an undeniable smile in his voice.

You forced a chuckle, looking down in front of you. “Y-yeah.”

When the train braked abruptly, he got closer. “Touch her-” It was a whisper from the same guy, you were unable to make out the words clearly but you decided to ignore him for the rest of the ride. You needed to get off in twenty minutes and were too tired to act friendly.

That was when you felt the back of his hand brushing against your ass.

You froze, before you could call it an accident and blame it on the crowded train, he pressed the back of his hand more purposefully on the soft flesh.

Fear paralyzed your body and you found yourself at a loss of words. You didn’t know what to do, you wanted to move away but you were trapped between him and the door.

“You’re not gonna ask for help?” he asked, leaning forward to mock you.

It was too humiliating and you were unable to think of anything. Somehow, you shook your head to tell him to stop because your voice wouldn’t come out. You pressed the bouquet harder against your chest in panic, praying to whoever was listening that the guy would stop.

You heard him say something but every other voice was muffled now, it was as if your ears were filled with cotton.

The only thing you did was to hope that you could muster up the courage to push him away and get out on the next stop.

Why was this happening to you?

Why?

“See, I told you.” Sukuna scoffed as Yuuji’s entire face was beet red. “She’s not even gonna ask for help because she wants you to continue.”

Yuuji saw your blushed cheeks in the reflection in the window, you were breathing heavily and standing still.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

When Sukuna convinced him to follow you into the subway train and let him do the talking, he was conflicted because he wasn’t sure what the King of Curses wanted to prove but now, he knew.

“Women live to be conquered by men,” Sukuna concluded, “Do you understand it now or should I elaborate more?”

Yuuji was quiet.

“She’ll bend down and beg for you to fuck her right now if you continue touching her.”

You wouldn’t.

Right?

Using his whole hand, Yuuji groped your ass while trembling from dismay but he couldn’t forethought the way you reacted being anything other than screaming for help or pushing him away.

Instead of fighting back or doing anything he had thought you would, you mewled and stayed exactly where you were.

They were all right.

Fushiguro, Inumaki and Yuuta. They were all right.

Sukuna was more than right. He had been trying to help him but Yuuji was too blind to see it.

“Check her cunt, I bet she’s soaking wet.” Sukuna had said to mock his vessel. He didn’t expect for him to move his hand between your legs and under your skirt to press his fingers against your clothed pussy. Neither did you.

Letting out a squeal, you hunched forward, pressing your legs together in panic as his digits moved along your clothed slit that was completely damp.

He started rubbing his fingers between your folds, your juices soaked your panties and made sloppy sounds each time he moved his digits.

“I can hear it from here, did you wet yourself, or are you this wet for me?” Sukuna laughed audibly.

You shook your head, slouching further down and trying to move away from Yuuji’s hands.

“Women aren’t good liars,” Sukuna said as Yuuji slouched forward with you and pressed himself against your ass. “You’re aching to have a cock inside you, no?”

“Please,” you begged. You wanted him to stop.

“Oh, look, she’s asking so politely to be filled with a cock.” Sukuna made fun of your misery while watching the brat finally grow into a man.

Yuuji was sure Sukuna had taken over his body because he would never hump the girl he liked as he was fingering her over her clothes in a train. In public, he reminded himself, in a train and in public where nobody seemed to care.

His hands were moving on their own, he hooked a finger under the elastic edge of your panties to pull them to the side.

“W-wait, please,” you whispered in a weak voice, finally using a hand to grab his wrist to try to pull him away from your pussy. You weren’t strong or convincing enough though.

Yuuji slipped his fingers inside you and grinded his growing erection against your ass, earning a surprised moan out of you.

The hand that was grabbing his wrist immediately went to cover your mouth to suppress your voice as he started humping you to deliberately mimic fucking you.

“Please, stop…” Your voice was fainter than a whisper behind your hand.

“You say that but you’re pitifully trembling in anticipation.” His lips were brushing against the shell of your ear but it was as if he wasn’t using his mouth to talk.

“I’m not…” You pressed your legs together and trapped his hand between your thighs while he twirled his digits around inside you.  

“Lying isn’t cute, you know.” There was a smile in his deep voice, “Come on try harder to lie and make me believe you don’t want it.” He dragged his tongue along the shell of your ear, earning a surprised but muffled moan from you.

Yuuji brought his other hand up to cup your breast over your shirt, his cock was painfully hard against his jeans, and the knowledge of him touching his crush was too much for him to handle. He could cum in his pants if he wasn’t careful enough. Sukuna was saying the most vulgar things to you but instead of pushing him away, you were staying exactly where you were. It was fascinating to see how much you were begging to be touched.

It disturbed him a little, would you let any stranger touch you like this? Would you be this wet for anyone?

Yuuji didn’t want to know the answer but Sukuna did.

“Come on, be honest. Would you be this keen to be fucked by any man or is it because it’s me?” Sukuna asked, he was barely holding himself to switch with the brat, he loved corrupting innocent souls like you. He loved seeing the painful and pathetic cries they would let out as their faces were stained with tears.

You shook your head rapidly as his fingers inside you curled to rub a sweet spot you didn’t know existed.

“So, does that mean you wouldn’t want to be fucked by anyone but me?” Sukuna laughed while Yuuji let out a low groan, grinding harder against your ass, humping you roughly.

“N-nooo,” you were sobbing now, tears started running down your cheeks.

“Good girl… You’re finally being honest. You hear that? She would never want to be fucked by anyone but me.”

“T-that’s not what I meant…”

It was fun to tease girls like you. Sukuna could feel your fear and took incredible joy from hearing your voice crack. “Now, that’s cute… I wanna hear you cry out my name in your cute voice too.”

Yuuji groaned, shaking his head as if Sukuna was going to listen to him.

“S-Sukuna,” he mocked your crying. “Come on, say it just like that and beg for me to fuck you.”

Your body was shaking in fear, your cries only spurred him on and you didn’t know what to do. “P-please stop, S-Sukuna.” The way you whimpered his name, there was no way Sukuna could hold back.

“You better take her innocence before I do it myself, brat.” Sukuna was a man of his word, he had promised the brat to not touch you but if he didn’t man up and fucked you here, he would have no choice but to do it himself. He would never let a girl’s innocence go to waste. The blood of purity was something holy for curses like him. It was the nectar of the gods from the most ancient times, something that could only be attained by the perfect innocent virgins.

“Don’t you dare,” Yuuji spat, speaking for the first time. “She’s mine.”

You didn’t hear him though. His fingers were thrusting in and out of you vigorously while he was humping you and fondling your tit. Your walls clenched around his digits as he moved his hand on your chest between your bodies to impatiently pull the front of his pants down.

Realizing what was about to happen when he finally pulled his cock free and hiked your skirt up, you stared at your reflection on the window, crying and begging him to stop.

Yuuji froze momentarily, pulling his fingers out of you. He could see your expression in the window but you couldn’t see his face. He was stunned by seeing your cheeks wet with tears and mascara running down to ruin more of your makeup, it was… it was purely so erotic and better than his fantasies.

He slammed his hips forward and buried the entire length of his cock in your pussy.

Your virgin walls squeezed tightly around him and the sharp pain of your hymen being torn made fresh tears run down your cheeks. Your hand covering your mouth went to the door in front of you to keep your balance because of the ferocity of his thrust. Your lips parted to scream in pain but his fingers being shoved inside your mouth stopped you.

You tasted your bitter juices on his fingers as he twirled them around your tongue, catching the muscle between his knuckles.

Yuuji felt lightheaded by the fact that he was actually having sex with his crush, on top of all that, you were both each others’ first. He knew he was going to cherish this memory forever and even though he would have liked to do it in a bed with the lights off, this was fine too.

It didn’t matter where he was as long as he had his cock inside of you.

With a moan, he staggeringly pulled his hips back to abruptly slam into your pussy. The blood of your innocence acted as a lubricant, made it easier for him to slip inside, and made a sloppy sound each time he thrust inside.

You could feel his entire weight settle on your back while he nuzzled against the side of your neck before he shakily licked the sensitive skin to get a taste of you. Instinctively, you tried moving your head away from his mouth but his fingers in your mouth prevented you. To put it simply, you were trapped and were at his mercy.

He picked up a discreet but still desperate pace to fuck you, he was still cautious of the two of you being in public but he was still delirious to be having sex with you. Sex. Did it always feel this good? Were you feeling good too? You wanted it, he knew you did because you told Sukuna you wanted it.

Slamming his hips forward, he knocked the air out of your lungs, you gasped on his fingers, drooling all over yourself from having your mouth forcefully kept open by his long digits.

Yuuji was hopeless to mark his territory, to mark you as his. He wanted everyone to know that you belonged to someone when they looked at you. You were his and only his.

His cock grew bigger inside you at the thought of him owning you. He started fucking you frantically, no longer bothering if the people around had noticed or not. Your cunt tightened around his cock and you felt his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of your neck. He bit hard, hard enough to draw blood and leave you trembling in numbing pain.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the tip of his cock hit a sweet spot and your legs shook uncontrollably under you, they were struggling to carry your weight.

His teeth sank deeper into your flesh and you dropped the bouquet you were holding against your chest to involuntarily arch your back instead. He chewed on your skin as he felt your virgin walls pulsate around his cock, you were begging to be filled with his seed, weren’t you?

Women were nothing but a bunch of breeding holes anyway. They all acted like innocent angels when deep down they all were whores. Pleasure toys for men. They lived to please men, didn’t they?

You lived to please Yuuji, didn’t you?

Yuuji pulled his hand out from your mouth and stopped biting you. He licked the blood from your neck to focus on fucking you with frenzied thrusts instead. All of his inexperience and desperation were behind his thrusts, along with his entire weight, forcing you to take the very shape of his cock and never forget the girth of it.

Continuing to peppering small kisses on your neck, he started angling his hips just right to hit the spot that made your knees unbuckle. One, two, three thrusts, and your legs were a shaking mess. You moaned in response before he wrapped an arm around you to keep you up on your feet.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Sukuna spoke suddenly, startling both of you. “You shouldn’t hold back anymore.”

Yuuji wasn't sure which one of you he was talking to but he kept on nodding and moving his hips.

“Nobody else is going to hear you, give me an honest answer,” Sukuna was chuckling. “How does it feel?”

How does it feel to be fucked?

How does it feel to be fucked on a train?

How does it feel to be fucked in public?

How does it feel to have your innocence taken away?

How does it feel to indulge the darker parts of your mind?

Yuuji’s hips stuttered when your walls clenched around him tightly as you refused to answer.

“I won’t know how it feels if you don’t tell me, (name).”

Your mouth popped open and you moaned upon hearing your name. How did he know your name?

As soon as he thrust into your pussy, you forgot about it and let out a moan.

Were you always this depraved?

He continued fucking you frantically. His pace was faster and more ruthless, he was close. With each thrust of his hips, he left you moaning in involuntary pleasure but there was no denying that it felt good.

It felt so good.

“Tell me, (name).”

It felt so good.

“Come on, tell me.”

“Please,” you begged. It feels so good. Feels so good.

“That’s not what I wanna hear,” Sukuna murmured. “Come on now.”

The automated voice announced the next stop.

“Hurry it up already.” He was getting impatient.

“It feels so good,” you whimpered, defeated.

“Good girl,” Sukuna grinned before disappearing from Yuuji’s cheek.

The shame overwhelmed all of your senses and you looked at your reflection in the window once more, you caught a glimpse of your aroused expression. You were such a whore.

Yuuji slammed his hips forward one last time and you felt the small twitch of his balls against your skin before his cock twitched, spurting thick ropes of cum inside you.

The train stopped and he pulled out of you.

His seed started gushing out of your pussy before starting to trickle down your legs. Most of the bodily fluid had pooled under you and when you fell hard on the ground, they soaked into your skirt.

The guy who assaulted you was nowhere to be seen as the doors of the train on the other side opened. Many people hopped off the train but nobody paid any attention to you and you were sure they had been oblivious to what had happened. Nobody would care anyway.

A sob tore out of you and you tried getting up. Your legs were like jelly but as you managed to stand up, you noticed the bouquet you had dropped. More tears started to come out, they blurred your vision and you found yourself grabbing it from the ground.

Thankfully, it wasn’t crushed.

The train doors closed and it started moving forward while you were trying to fix your skirt.

Ah, that was your stop…

You sobbed again but pressed a hand over your mouth to not disturb anyone. Your crying didn’t stop even after you got off of the train on the next stop. You wanted to call someone to help you get back home because you weren’t sure if you could make it alone. Your legs were hurt, the throbbing pain coming from between your legs wouldn’t let you walk or stand up.

You weren’t going to tell them what had happened. Nobody could know. You didn’t need their pity. You were too ashamed.

Sitting on a bench, you scrolled down your contacts but none of the names there would help you. Not unless they had something to gain from it. Wasn’t that why you dropped everything and moved here to open a coffee shop?

How pathetic of you.

People only used you for your kindness.

You shifted on your seat and something slipped out from the bouquet. When you picked it up, you noticed that it was the note Itadori had written for you.

There was an ugly pause before you dialed the unknown number and a familiar voice responded.

“Hey,” he sounded awkward. Of course, he would, you rejected him. “What’s up?”

“Itadori,” you whimpered, voice cracking. Immediately, you cursed yourself for being this pathetic.

“A-are you o-okay? W-what happened?”

Bursting into tears once again, you only told him that you only needed help in shame after clearing your throat.

It took him barely fifteen minutes to arrive at the station to get you. You wiped your tears as soon as he came into your view. He was breathless, face beet red from running.

“You okay?” he asked in between breaths. “I ran here as fast as I could.”

He ran here.

Has anyone cared for you this much?

“Yeah, thank you and ahh, I… This is embarrassing… I twisted my ankle and needed help getting home.” You were never a good liar but you hoped he was gullible enough to believe it. “I know it’s weird to call you here but none of my friends would come if I called-”

“Ah, it’s no problem!” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and chuckled. He had been worried for nothing. “I can carry you, that’s what friends are for, right?!”

You nodded and bit your lip to prevent yourself from crying. He was too kind. Too similar to you.

“Want me to carry you on my back? Or like this?” He emphasized his words by holding his hands in front of himself to show you that he was offering to carry you bridal style.

“Yeah, that would be better.” You masked the shame with a fake smile. You were embarrassed that you were pathetic to ask him for help even after you rejected him earlier tonight.

He smiled and took a step closer towards the bench. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slid his arm under the back of your knees and placed a hand on your back to support you as he lifted you up to take you home.

You were grateful that you had a friend like him in your life.

~~~

The next day Yuuji came to the coffee shop to take your offer from the last night about giving him a free coffee drink of his choice. 

You served him his coffee with a smile and sat with him on one of the tables, talking about your day as he listened to you complain. 

In the end, Sukuna was right, Yuuji realized. 

Women were begging to be fucked. Women secretly wanted it and that was why you were acting indifferent after all that happened the day before.

He had been worried over nothing, besides, he needed to be more confident and assertive like everyone told him to be. Then he would get the girl. That was what every article he read online, all of his friends and people around him told him. That was what Sukuna told him.

“Wanna go get dinner after you close the place?” he asked, taking a mouthful of his coffee.

“I need to clean and it might take a long while-”

“I’ll help,” he replied, smiling. “Everything’s on me.”

How could you say no to that? How could you say no to anything he had to say?

In your eyes, he was the nicest guy in the world.

Were you really going to pass on the opportunity to have him in your life?

“It’s a date then?” You were grinning, cheeks flushing as you said it. Slowly, you placed your hand over his on the table.

Yuuji gave you a blank stare, something sinister sparkled deep within his eyes but you couldn’t see it. Unbeknownst to you, his other hand under the table had a mouth on it that had an unsettling grin on it too. It was funny how clueless you were. Nonetheless, Yuuji took your hand in his to give you a reassuring squeeze and made you blush harder before agreeing, “It’s a date.”

[dalekofchaos]

It’s been nearly 2 years since the McMahons addressed the WWE Universe and told them they would give the fans what they want. So far this year...

Asuka is almost never used, her challengers are almost never earned and when she should have been presented as the killer that she was in NXT as champion, she is sometimes presented as an afterthought and she had to play hot potato with her title with Sasha & Bayley, she wasn’t even allowed to look strong

Everything about Retribution, not even Mustafa Ali can save it

Whenever a great match kills it, tears the house down and feels like a main event, it’s not the main event and we are given a snooze fest as main event instead

EVERYTHING about Seth Rollins and the Mysterio family feud...please god make it stop make it end

Charlotte killed Rhea Ripley’s momentum and wouldn’t even take the loss to put Io Shirai over, she literally did no one ANY favors as NXT Woman’s Champion

WWE has every intention of bringing Goldberg, Brock and Rousey every now and then at the cost of the talent you actually have and no regard for the fans

Randy Orton ends Drew McIntyre’s reign as champion

Otis wins the MITB only to lose it

The Miz takes the MITB from Otis....literally no one cares about The Miz

The IIconics were stupidly broken up to put Peyton in a tag team with Lacey Evans

Kairi Sane was used as Nia Jax’s crash test dummy instead of actually pushing her. We could’ve had Kairi go for Bayley’s title at WM 36 and win it and we’d have the Kubuki Warriors and Io as champions, but no we can’t have nice things

Nia Jax is rewarded for being a dangerous and unsafe wrestler

Mandy Rose going to Raw was presented as this big deal like it’s her break out moment as a singles star, then she’s put in a tag team with Dana Brooke and loses her “Golden Goddess” look to just look generic

Shayna Baszler is not even in contention for Asuka’s title and is in a thrown at the last minute team with Nia Jax and they are Tag Team Champions....for reasons

Despite having The Riott Squad, The IIconics, Marina Shafir & Jessamyn Duke, they instead went with Shayna & Nia as Women’s Tag Team Champions

Despite Naomi being white fucking hot since her return to the Rumble, she is squandered, despite the fan reaction, she is not given a chance, put in a stupid feud with Lacey Evans and even when drafted to Raw, WE STILL haven’t seen her

NXT superstars were not even considered for the Draft, WWE pretty much treats NXT as their red headed step-child

Despite the mystery woman angle, Carmella is absent. Emmalina all over again, I fully expect her new gimmick to be dropped

The Intercontinental and United States Champions are presented as afterthoughts

Changed Keith Lee, Nikki Cross and Peyton Royce’s themes pointlessly

Not only was Keith Lee’s theme was changed, but so was his look and booking

Nikki Cross went from the crazy sister to generic female wrestler. I hope a new Wyatt stable can bring back her old SAnitY styled gimmick, but I ain’t holding my breath

The 24/7 title is still around. It’s lost it’s appeal and given the success of AEW’s TNT champion, I would’ve replaced the 24/7 title with the first ever WWE Television Champion

They STILL won’t unify the Tag Team Champions

They STILL keep splitting up tag teams and putting them in make shift tag teams

They brought back Lars Sullivan despite fan disgust over his racism, misogyny, homophobia and recently harassing a woman on instagram, the guy literally has no value and he’s not even that big or intimidating

They kept Matt Riddle and brought back Velveteen Dream, Jordan Devlin and Austin Theory despite the allegations and evidence in the #speakingout movement, plus Matt Riddle and WWE are being countersued for two millions. Riddle is also pretty unprofessional and this countersuit is gonna be a huge headache for WWE and it’s gonna bite them on the ass.

Continues the Saudi Blood Money deal despite fan protest with SA’s human rights violations and publicly MURDERING an American journalist, oh and VINCE LEFT HIS SUPERSTARS BEHIND WHILE THEY WERE HELD HOSTAGE

Was deemed essential, yet fired over 300 employees and used the pandemic as an excuse. They lied about over 37 million in quarterly profits, so they can fire over 300 people, during a worldwide pandemic  but kept Lars Sullivan, Velveteen Dream and Jaxson Ryker

Took control over the superstars assets for services like Twitch and cameo. Still insist that their wrestlers are Independent Contractors but treat them like employees and won’t let them make a living on the side. They will make a percentage but  it will count against their downside guarantees. This is fucking criminal

Please tell me how you are gonna “give what the fans want” please tell me this is how any of us want

As far as I can tell, the only thing they gave me what I want this year is Bayley and Sasha killed it and made 2020 their bitch, Everything about Roman, The Hurt Business, The Fiend & Alexa Bliss and they FINALLY gave Chad Gable back his fucking name. 

[raptured-night]

The Meta of Supernatural & The Many Meanings of “God as the Author”

Ask Supernatural fans what magic formula might be at work for the popular series to have lasted for what will be 15 seasons, with a total of 307 episodes aired as of April, 2019 (with a projected 327 episodes after the final season, which is set to begin in October) since it first aired in 2005 and one of the answers they might give (besides a deal with a certain crossroads demon) is the series ability to be so wonderfully meta. While Supernatural certainly has had its share of dramatic episodes, character deaths, and tear-jerking moments (particularly for those of us who have yet to master Dean’s art of the single perfect tear) it is also a series that is not afraid to poke fun at itself. Almost as if in answer to its critics who would question how Supernatural has managed last for so long when other series (many of which, like Supernatural, also came armed with a charismatic cast and compelling characters) have come and gone, episodes like The French Mistake (6.15) and Fan Fiction (10.5) exist not just as fan-service or a love letter to the fans but as an unapologetic bit of self-parody intended to highlight all the best and worse of what makes Supernatural what it is. 

Supernatural stands as one of the longest-running sci-fi/fantasy television series in American history and one which, I would argue, can credit much of its success to its willingness to, in the spirit of Team Freewill, break the rules, break the fourth wall, and not just wink at the fans but eagerly wave them into their world and invite them to come and join the family. Ultimately, for all of its credible faults (for it is certainly not without them; the series has been aptly criticized for everything from queerbaiting to misogyny to poor representation for women, lgbtq+ people, and poc characters at different points in its 15-year run and some of the actors have revealed themselves to be problematic as well, such as when Mark Pellegrino, who plays Lucifer, accused minorities who called for tolerance of being “rigid and intolerant”) it is the willingness of the writers to take risks (at least as far as introducing creative content goes) with meta episodes like the aforementioned The French Mistake (6.15) or Fan Fiction (10.5) (to provide only two of many such examples; seriously the show has so much material it is a well-known joke that Supernatural has a reaction gif for everything) and crossovers like the Scoobynatural episode (13.15) that keep old fans returning each season, draw in new fans, and even manage to catch the attention of some of its usual detractors and/or skeptics alike. 

However, in the Season 14 finale, Moriah (14.20), which saw the return of Chuck/God the meta-game was not only out in force but out in form. As fans of the series will know, Chuck Shurley was first introduced in Season 4 of the Supernatural series as a “Prophet of the Lord” (4.18; The Monster at The End of This Book) who came to the attention of the Winchester brothers after writing a series of books (a.k.a “The Winchester Gospels”) that chronicled some of their lives up-to Season 4 under the pseudonym Carver Edlund. By the end of Season 5, many fans had already begun speculating that Chuck was, in fact, God in disguise but it was not until Season 11 that the popular fan theory was confirmed in episode 20, Don’t Call Me Shurley. Nonetheless, even before Chuck was officially revealed to be God, the writers had already laid the foundation for what I would argue is one of the best examples of Supernatural meta. For Chuck as God is nothing if not a nod to writers who act as gods/creators of their own universes (just as I once theorized that Becky Rosen was a parody of the sort of extreme, even toxic fan that one can expect to encounter in most fandoms). Through Chuck, the writers of Supernatural have been able to effectively satirize themselves and communicate a certain self-awareness yet again (e.g. When Metatron tells Castiel that God is “...a bit of a misogynist” I couldn’t help but think of the longstanding criticism that the writers of Supernatural have received for continuously fridging female characters or portraying them as two-dimensional love interests, although it must be said that acknowledging the issue is not the same as actively correcting it). 

That being said, the Season 14 finale took the satire of “God as the Author” even further and once again brought it full circle to include the fans. In the last few moments of the episode, when Dean makes the decision not to kill Jack, the exchange that follows sets the stage for what will be the final season of Supernatural in a way that could not have been more fitting. Indeed, I would argue that a strong case can be made that it was always going to come down to a final battle with God/Chuck, the author of the Supernatural universe. Notably, when Dean makes the decision not to kill Jack, Chuck/God objects by telling him, “This is not how the story’s supposed to end.” This immediately draws Castiel’s attention (”The story?”) and is meant to jar the audience after such a dramatic moment between Jack and Dean. Arguably, Castiel’s question is a signal or cue to the viewer that they should begin to question if everything that transpired moments before was not manufactured by Chuck/God “the author.” That is, the writers are intentionally pulling the viewers out of the story of before and drawing their attention to the fact it is inauthentic in the way that all fiction is, in that it is ultimately “a story” created by an author. 

Indeed, Chuck/God confirms as much when he follows up by saying, “The gathering storm. The gun. The father killing his own son. This is Abraham and Issac. This is epic.” His reference to Abraham and Issac ties into the title of the episode, Moriah, which was the name of the mountain that Abraham took Issac to sacrifice him in Biblical scripture (although God stopping Abraham does open the episode up to interesting speculation as to whether Chuck/God actually wanted Dean to kill Jack, “the end,” or if there might have been more to his machinations that we did not get to see due to Dean and Sam’s rebellion). As a bit of comical tongue-in-cheek, the fact that Chuck/God would appear to be recycling one of his “greatest hits” with Dean and Jack could also be subtle recognition of the fact that because Supernatural is one of the longest-running sci-if/fantasy series in American television history and has covered so much material the writers of the series are at a point where they have to work much harder to avoid recycling the same content rather than come up with new and original ideas. The fact that Sam, Dean, Castiel, and other characters of Supernatural have also acknowledged the existence of a “cycle” where one of the Winchesters (or honorary Winchesters) dies and the other(s) proceed to move heaven, hell, purgatory, “The Empty,” and earth just to get them back also supports the idea that Chuck/God recycling his material from Biblical scripture was a fun bit of self-deprecation. There is also the tongue-in-cheek parody of the “BM moment” in Fan Fiction (10.5), which further illustrates the penchant of the writers to acknowledge recurring, even predictable, patterns in their storytelling. 

I digress, however, as what follows once Chuck/God has clued the Winchester brothers and Castiel into the fact that he orchestrated the events that led up to Dean confronting Jack with the plan to kill him is one of the most revealing pieces of meta. Sam acknowledges that Chuck/God has “been playing” them all along, then goes on to say, “Our entire lives. Mom, dad, everything. This is all you because you wrote it all, right? Because, because, what? Because we're your favorite show? Because we're part of your story?” In Sam’s criticism, the fourth-wall is effectively broken, as he is not just referencing Chuck/God’s “Winchester Gospels” at this point. In fact, he notably goes from referring to Chuck/God as an author (i.e. ”This is all you because you wrote it all, right?”) to accuse him of also joining the rest of the Supernatural fandom in being a loyal viewer (i.e. “Because we’re your favorite show?”). This is meta within meta, as Supernatural is being taken from the “Winchester Gospels” or Supernatural books that Chuck/God wrote in their canonical “verse/world,” into a whole other medium or realm, i.e. television. In doing so, the fans/viewing audience of Supernatural who remained dedicated to the series; who continued to urge the network, writers, and other powers that be to keep Supernatural going from season to season; and who may have contributed to building up the fan-base by adding their own creative fan fiction and fan works are all included in the writer’s meta fueled tongue-in-cheek tribute to Supernatural’s long-running success. 

In true Supernatural style, Sam and Dean’s confrontation with Chuck/God not only represents Team Free Will/The Winchesters’ rebelling against God but the characters of Supernatural rebelling against “the author” and “viewer” of the “road” their story has traveled “so far.” Ultimately, the dedicated fans of Supernatural who, like Chuck, tune in each week and have yet to tire of the story of these characters --indeed, who genuinely continue to hope for new and more “epic” seasons-- are all included in the joke. Which is why I would argue that it is not only fitting but inevitable that the final antagonist that Team Free Will would go up against would be Chuck/God the “author” and “viewer.” I predict that season 15 may stand as a love letter and tribute to the fans of the show in the best and most ironic way possible, by acknowledging the Supernatural fan-base (who, I think it’s safe to say, would be just as happy if Supernatural never came to an end) by subtly linking them with Chuck/God as either the antagonist they must go up against if these “wayward sons” are ever to “find peace when [they] are done” or the successors to Chuck/God and solution to the problem that he may present them with. 

Indeed, after Chuck/God attempts to dismiss Sam’s accusations as “crazy” and “stupid” what transpires after only speaks to the major shift these characters are already prepared to make in order to break the cyclical pattern they have always been on. Notably, Chuck offers to bring back Mary Winchester if Dean shoots Jack with the gun he made for him. As I have already observed, the series has long acknowledged the repetition of the Winchesters when it comes to saving each other, yet this time when given the opportunity for Dean to once again save Mary and bring her back he not only refuses in what stands as a monumental shift away from the predictable Winchester cycle but also doubles down on the accusations that Sam previously made: 

“No. No. My mom was my hero. And I miss her, and I'll miss her every second of my life but she would not want this. And it's not like you even really care. Cause Sam's right. The apocalypse, the first go around with Lucifer and Michael? You knew everything that was going on. So, why the games, Chuck? Huh? Why don't you just snap your fingers and end it?”

Importantly, Dean specifically references the events of Seasons 4 and 5, which are not only when Chuck/God was first introduced as a character (not to mention a certain “Angel of the Lord”) but are popularly regarded as two of the most defining seasons of the entire Supernatural franchise and would go on to set the tone and standard for every subsequent season that followed. It is only after this call-back that Dean berates Chuck/God for not intervening and challenges him to “end it.” Almost as if responding to some of the critics of Supernatural who have long argued that the series should have ended in its 5th Season, Dean ironically seems to be echoing their criticism in his challenge to Chuck/God the “author” and “viewer” who does not want the story to end. Indeed, as Chuck becomes more defensive, Sam takes up Dean’s criticism by vaguely referencing everything that came after Season 5: “And every other bad thing we've been killing and dying over. Where were you? Just sitting back and watching us suffer? So we can do this over and over and over and over again? Fighting? Losing people we love? When does it end? Tell me?” Once again, Chuck/God is not just being accused of being the author of their suffering (i.e. “Fighting [...] [l]osing people [they] love”) but of “sitting back” and being a viewer of it “...over and over and over and over again” without any suggestion of an end. It is at this point that Chuck/God appeals to Dean; pleading with him as a viewer of a “favorite show” that has announced its final season might: “Dean, don’t do this.” 

However, Dean is not moved by Chuck/God’s entreaties and has this to say, “Yeah, we're done talking. Cause this? This isn't just a story. It's our lives. So, God or no God, you go to hell.” Spitting in the face of Vonnegut’s 6th rule for writing fiction (i.e. “Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them-in order that the reader may see what they are made of.”) Dean is the man who rebels against God in the Supernatural verse and, beyond that, he is also the fictional character who rebels against not only his author/creator but the viewers who may derive entertainment from his life and want it to keep going in a cycle of violence and loss “...over and over and over and over again.” Just as many authors have lamented the occasion when it seems a character or characters assume a life of their own and refuse to cooperate with the plot they had planned for them, Dean, as a character, is asserting his independence from his author/creator by rejecting the idea that his and Sam’s lives are “...just a story.” Furthermore, one could even argue that, as the Supernatural franchise could be described as something of a larger phenomenon, so too is Dean seemingly insisting that anyone who would downplay the significance and impact of his and Sam’s lived-experiences over the years by saying it is “just a story/work of fiction” can effectively “go to hell.” 

Faced with the rebellion of Sam and Dean, Chuck/God finally takes matters into his own hands and effectively validates the Winchesters’ accusations (“Have it your way.”) by “snap[ing] his fingers” and “end[ing] it” in the exact way that Dean and Sam challenged him to do, ultimately killing Jack in the process. Not unlike an author attempting to force their plot to work when the characters refuse to cooperate, Chuck/God demonstrates the ultimate deus ex machina and proves that the earlier set-up he had planned for Dean to sacrifice himself by killing Jack was seemingly as unnecessary as the Winchester brothers claimed. It is evident that Chuck/God could always have ended things himself but as the author/creator he did not want to, presumably because it was less entertaining than having the Winchesters and Castiel do it in his place. As Castiel kneels on the ground beside Jack, Dean attempts to advance on Chuck/God to stop him from killing Jack but is easily thrown back. It is Sam (perhaps fittingly given it was also Sam’s killing of Lilith that set the stage for the conflict with Lucifer in Season 5), who thinks to pick up the gun Dean had dropped earlier and turn it on Chuck/God as he is walking away, that sets the stage for what I would argue is one of the better Supernatural finales in recent seasons. 

Without hesitation, Sam fires at Chuck/God after calling to get his attention and manages to hit him in the shoulder. Although the greater damage seems to have been inflicted on Sam, the fact that the viewer does see a clear bullet hole in Chuck/God’s clothing and that Sam received reciprocal damage does suggest that there may have been some damage done. Regardless, Chuck/God is clearly angered and with an exhale delivers these final, ominous lines: “Fine! That's the way you want it? Story's over. Welcome to the end.” Cue the sky going dark in a symbolic fade-to-black as Motorhead's “God Was Never On Your Side” poignantly begins to play while the dead burst out of their graves in true apocalyptic fashion. 

With the involvement of Billie, who has been an incredibly interesting wild-card and a breath of fresh air since she first appeared in Supernatural (11.2 “Form and Void”), and her plans for Jack alongside the other lingering plot threads left over from Season 14 (such as the question of how Castiel’s deal with “The Empty” will be resolved or the matter of Lucifer still being awake and trying to escape from “The Empty”), the finale of Supernatural Season 14 also left viewers with the suggestion of what the major conflict of the final season might be. However, as we saw in Season 11 in the battle between Chuck/God and Amara, we must ask ourselves how Team Free Will --who, for the last ten years, have faced off against everything from mythological gods, monsters, angels, demons, the personification of Death, Hitler, British invaders, God’s sister, and even the devil himself and come out on the winning side-- hopes to win against someone whose death would seemingly mean the end of their world. It begs the question, how can these characters exist without their author? What happens to them once “the author,” be it Chuck/God in-verse or “the powers that be” behind Supernatural out-of-verse, has/have stopped writing and closed the book on their story with the declaration of “The End?” 

One possible answer might be in the writer’s decision to include the fans in with Chuck/God in the last few minutes of Season 14′s finale. Similar to The Neverending Story, another popular fantasy of the 1980s with a meta-driven narrative, could it be that the unaddressed threat of “The Empty” (comparable to “The Nothing” of The Never-Ending Story) combined with the characters’ battle with their author/creator/god will all culminate in a literal Death of the Author scenario, in which the torch of Supernatural will find a way to be metaphorically passed on to the fans within the narrative for them to symbolically “carry on?” That is, rather than leave fans with a fade-to-black ending, wherein Team Free Will and the world of Supernatural that the viewers have come to love for so long are all cast into the nothingness of their own kind of “Empty” once off-air, could the writers be aiming for a conclusion that functions as a final narrative twist that would acknowledge the significance of the fans and their contributions to the lasting power and presence of the Supernatural fandom? After all, while the dedicated fans of the series have undoubtedly heaped their share of angst and suffering onto these characters in their many works of fan fiction, the number of times it could also be said that their stories of hurt ended in sweeter moments of comfort, a fix-it fic, or a happy ending with a heavy side of fluff could be taken as recognition from the writers of just how beloved and cherished these characters are to their fans and that they are safe being left in what may well be even better, kinder hands. 

Alternatively, it is also possible that Team Free Will/the Winchesters will remain true-to-form and choose to go out on their own terms. In which case, the recurrent trend of “The Empty” being built up as something to be feared may well be flipped on its head, at least metaphorically. If “The Empty” comes to represent the greater fear of the potential “nothingness” of the final denouement waiting at the end of the long road they have traveled, then Team Free Will’s decision to embrace it, or at least a symbolic version of it, could be the meaning behind the meta-style conflict between the Winchesters and “Chuck/God as the author” in the Season 14 finale. Indeed, it may be that peace for the “weary heads” of Team Free Will/the Winchesters is something more conclusive, especially given their own rebellion against a god/author/viewer who would expect of them nothing more than a never-ending cycle of death and violence. 

Ultimately, we will all have to wait until the new and final season of Supernatural airs to get concrete answers to any of the theories and questions that we may find ourselves asking, yet I couldn’t help being intrigued by layered meta of Season 14′s finale and what it could mean going into Season 15. Will the show conclude with the rise of Team Free Will as they take their own narrative out of Chuck/God/the author’s/the viewer's hands and close the chapter on their “story” once-and-for-all? Or, will they not only find a way to bring about some kind of “Death of the Author” resolution when it comes to Chuck/God but also solve the problem that “The Empty” currently seems to represents for them in a way that allows the fans to wave them off as they drive down yet another long stretch of road together in the Impala knowing they are at peace, exactly where they belong, and that the rest is up to them (i.e. the fans)? I suppose we will all have to tune in when Season 15 of Supernatural airs in October to find out but until then fans of the show will just have to “carry on” and keep the theories coming! 

[themyskira]

The Life of Captain Marvel - prologue

Sooooo, yep, we’re doing this.

I’m going to recap this travesty of a comic issue by issue, but before we dig into the many crimes of The Life of Captain Marvel, I thought it would be helpful to lay down some context.

Margaret Stohl’s miniseries radically reimagines Carol’s origin and family, in particular her parents, Joe and Marie Danvers. So let’s take a look at who they were before Stohl took a hacksaw to them.

Joe and Marie Danvers are first introduced in Ms Marvel vol. 1 #13 (1978) by Chris Claremont and Jim Mooney.

Some background for this: In the 70s, cape comics were increasingly delving into social issues not only as story fodder, but as a selling point. Successes like the 1970 Green Lantern/Green Arrow (which explored addiction, racism, income inequality and corruption) and The Amazing Spider-Man’s 1971 “Green Goblin Reborn!” (which famously abandoned the Comics Code in order to portray the negative impact of drug abuse) prompted more comics to address relevant social issues of the day (with… varying degrees of sensitivity, shall we say).

The Ms Marvel comic, which launched in 1977, was heavily coloured by (a white male comic writer’s interpretation of) the women’s liberation movement. It’s flagged right there in the title: as both a civilian and in her superhero alter ego, Carol Danvers refuses to be defined by her marital status, insisting on being called ‘Ms’ rather than ‘Miss’.

“And one thing more, Jonah… My name is Ms. Carol Danvers.”

When we first meet Carol in issue #1, she’s introduced as a smart, driven career woman and a proud feminist who is hired by J. Jonah Jameson as editor of the Bugle’s Woman magazine (an allusion to the feminist Ms magazine). In the space of a page, she’s talked the penny-pinching Jonah into paying her a high salary, while refusing to cave to his insistence that she prioritise diets and recipes over interviews and stories about women’s issues and activities.

To what extent the 1970s Ms Marvel succeeds as a feminist hero is debatable. What’s important here is that Carol is framed from the get-go as a hero who fights against misogyny as well as the usual parade of supervillains.

So obviously her dad was going to be a male chauvinist.

Carol: Dad, it’ll take more than words to stop Plumm. You need evidence. I’m a journalist — a trained investigator. If the building’s unsafe, I can help you prove it. I can get— Joe: Outta here, Kitten, an’ leave a man t’ do a man’s work in peace.

But Chris Claremont, to his credit, gave the character and the relationship a little more nuance than that.

“Joe Danvers. Five-nine and two hundred pounds of muscle, a man who’s worked his entire life with his hands, who started with nothing and built a successful contracting business until the recession of ’76 kicked it in the teeth.”

We first meet Joe at work on a construction site. The high-rise project has been plagued with problems, thanks to what we’ll later discover is deliberate sabotage by the site owner, and now one of Joe’s crew is trapped dangling from a fallen steel pylon several storeys above. Joe rushes to the man’s aid.

Man: Joe, what’re ya doin’?! Joe: Whaddaya think?! He’s one o’ my crew— I’m goin’ out after him!

With his courage and quick thinking, Joe saves the man’s life.

Andy: I’m scared, Joe. My God, am I gonna die?!? Joe: Not if I can help it. Just hang loose, Andy, and trust me!

Joe begins to suspect that the owner is cutting corners at the expense of workers’ safety. Investigating after hours, he discovers the whole site is at risk of structural collapse. Furious, he calls the owner, who first denies it and then tries to threaten Joe into silence. Joe refuses to be cowed.

Plumm: We’re within the building codes. Joe: Bull! Plumm: I warn you, Danvers— push me too far and I’ll make you live to regret it. Joe: Stick it in yer ear, punk! You’re finished, Plumm — ‘cause I’m blowin’ the whistle on you an this pitiful excuse for a buildin’!

Throughout, Claremont takes the time to illustrate the commonalities between Carol and her father. They’re both people of courage and conviction, with nerves of steel. They also share a stubbornness and a temper that doesn’t always do either of them any favours.

And, yeah, Joe is a sexist jerk.

When Carol offers her journalistic skills and connections to help expose Plumm, Joe dismisses her. And when Ms Marvel ultimately saves Joe’s life, he grumbles about her interfering. The idea that he might need a woman’s help to do a ‘man’s work’ is utterly demeaning in his mind.

In later issues, we learn that the reason Carol joined the military in the first place was because it was the only way she could afford to pay for college after Joe flatly refuses to help her out, saying it’s more important for her brother Steve to get an education and “besides, you don’t need college to find a good husband”.

So Carol joins the Air Force, makes her own way, builds her dream career and becomes a hero on her own terms. Yet no matter how high she flies, it never seems to be enough for Joe. He doesn’t understand what she wants from life, she doesn’t meet his expectations for what a daughter or a young woman ought to be, and for that Carol feels she’s never been able to gain his approval or acceptance.

“All I ever wanted was for Dad to accept me as I am, not as he wanted me to be. And now I know that no matter what I do, or how well I do it— he never will.”

Marie, unfortunately, gets short shrift in Claremont’s Ms Marvel. We see that she’s supportive and proud of Carol, buying every issue of Carol’s magazine and enthusiastically recommending it to all of her friends. We see that, unlike Joe, Marie sees Carol for who she is and loves her for it. And she’s not fooled for a second by the Ms Marvel costume.

“I gave birth to you, Carol. I raised you. I love you. I’d know my first-born anywhere, behind any disguise.”

But unlike Joe, we never get a sense of who she is as a character or what kind of relationship she has with Carol. Indeed, for the most part she’s just there to mediate Carol’s relationship with Joe, making��excuses for her husband, downplaying the hurt he’s caused Carol and encouraging Carol not to let his misogyny bother her. Which is a problem in itself.

Carol’s backstory got a light revamp for the modern era in 2008’s Ms Marvel vol. 2 #31.

In this version of events, Joe is less overtly misogynistic. He doesn’t outright refuse to help Carol with college or suggest that she ought to be looking for a husband… but those sexist assumptions are still hanging around beneath the surface and he never truly accepts Carol, unable to reconcile her wants and ambitions with his ideas of what a daughter should be.

“The things I did… and this was before I had super-powers… I saved the world a few times, Dad. Would that make you proud? I don’t think it would. I wasn’t Steven, was I? I wasn’t Joe Junior with his architecture degree. And I wasn’t your perfect little boy in a Red Sox fan [sic]. I was just the little girl you were always uncomfortable with… never knew how to talk to.”

The breaking point in their relationship, and the impetus for Carol to join the Air Force, comes with the death of her (older, in this version) brother Steven, who dies overseas in military service.

Unable to cope with his grief, Joe starts drinking to numb his feelings with alcohol, developing a serious drinking problem (this retcon was a nod to Ms Marvel’s own battle with alcoholism, which had been explored in a number of comics at this point).

And seventeen-year-old Carol looks around her, seeing a father near-catatonic with grief and booze and a mother struggling to keep the family afloat on her single salary, and she concludes that if she wants to go to college and become an astronaut then she’s going to have to rely on her own resources. So the moment she turns eighteen, she joins the Air Force.

And her father explodes.

“Why, after what happened to Steven, why would you even want— are you @#$%ing insane?!”

He’s still consumed by the death of his son, and now his daughter is putting her own life on the line in pursuit of a dream he has never understood or taken seriously. He’s terrified and angry and convinced she’s doing it just to spite him.

And no matter how high she flies, she’ll never measure up to his idealised memories of the child he lost. His approval is always out of reach.

Meanwhile, once again, Marie gets shafted. She’s absent in the flashbacks and a one-dimensional figure in the present day, giving no sense of her personality or her relationship with Carol.

There’s one more version of Carol’s backstory, and it comes -- curiously enough -- from Margaret Stohl’s previous run on Mighty Captain Marvel in 2017.

Joe: Ah, Bean... Since my tour of duty ended, things have been tight. College tuition... [...] I can pay one tuition, Bean. For Stevie. Joe has my hands, he can frame houses with me. Carol: That’s not fair! What about me? What am I supposed to do? Joe: Find yourself a nice boy -- heck, a nice astronaut -- and settle down.

Essentially it’s a modernisation of the original Claremont version. Joe Danvers is a loving father who wants the best for all of his children. But what he sees as best is shaped by his sexist preconceptions — a college degree is more essential for Steve, who he assumes will be supporting a family, than Carol, who’ll be raising one — and a complete failure to understand his daughter and how deep her ambitions run. What she feels in her bones as a calling, he sees as a cute obsession that she’ll outgrow, once she’s settled down with the right man. And that hurts. “It’s a lonely thing,” Carol reflects, “when the people who love you don’t know who you are”.

This is the kind of nuance which Stohl utterly abandons in The Life of Captain Marvel.

So, common to all of these versions of Carol’s background is

a fraught, complex relationship with a hard-headed father who’s never understood her and whose approval is always beyond Carol’s grasp, and

a vaguely domestic mother with no defined personality beyond a desire to keep the peace between Carol and Joe.

By the end of The Life of Captain Marvel, this will be transformed into

an irredeemably toxic and traumatising relationship with a verbally and physically abusive father who blames Carol for gatecrashing his illicit romance with his mysterious sexy space girlfriend, aka Carol’s mother; and

a vaguely domestic mother (from space) with no defined personality beyond a desire to keep the peace between Carol and Joe.

Buckle up, kids. This is going to be a shitshow from start to finish.

[howlsmovinglibrary]

So I finished ACOWAR

This is in no way a coherent or articulate piece of writing in the same way my ACOTAR/ACOMAF piece tried to be, and I don’t think it even can be called a review, because I don’t tend to review books that already have this much visibility in the booklr community. It’s more just the notes I made while reading ACOWAR, which I kind of felt was the weakest book in the series so far (and if you haven’t already guessed it, I’m not much of a fan to begin with).

This entire piece is basically just spoilers, and salt, so please don’t read unless you already know/don’t mind finding out some major plot points!

First off, can I just say that every time ‘the male’ or ‘the female’ is used as a descriptor, I wince. I think it is a) bad writing and b) cis-centric as fuck. There needs to be more non-binary people in fantasy!

This book was so….bloated. It needed to be edited down a lot – the sheer number of chapters is insane. I had this poignant realisation when I read five chapters of High Fae trash talk at the faerie High Lord meeting and then…the thing they were having a meeting over just…happened anyway? And the meeting suddenly had no meaning whatsoever?

So many abusers are now being made into sympathetic/rehabilitated figures. I took Rhys’ redemption arc in ACOMAF because I kind of suspected that that was the way his and Feyre’s relationship were going to pan out but….both Eris and Tamlin received sympathy, and were made into heroes or forces for good at some point in the plot? Feyre forgave Tamlin? Mor’s abuse at the hands of Keir and Eris is pushed aside because ‘times are hard’ and ‘tough choices have to be made’? And Mor had literally no say or agency in that decision?

Meanwhile we have Ianthe. an abusive woman who’s entire character is one-dimensional villainy and demonised female sexuality. She is portrayed as having not a single scrap of goodness in her soul, not one redeeming characteristic, someone who Feyre has no moral quandary over letting be munched up by the Weaver. Even though her use of sex could realistically be portrayed as a product of internalised misogyny? And yet the men who ‘nailed a message’ into Mor’s womb get nuanced portrayal, the benefit of the doubt in the run up to the war, and even moments of heroism?????

I’m not saying that Ianthe should be redeemed, I just don’t understand why this instance of sexual abuse is so utterly condemned to the point where we watch her smash her own hand in some kind of medieval punishment, and yet the instances of sexual abuse perpetrated by men are all given a degree of either redemption or pardoning because of the circumstances of the plot. Is it because female to male abuse is more taboo and thus seen as more ‘evil’? Because SJM has so ingrained male-to-female sexual abuse into the very fabric of her patriarchal fantasy society, that we and Mor are expected to just accept that this is ‘the way things are’, or even write it off out of necessity as ‘boys will be boys’? I HAVE NO IDEA AND IT MAKES ME UNCOMFORTABLE.

Given my recent essay on the subject, I was interested that SJM tried to problematize and dismantle the concept of mating bonds a little in the conversation Feyre and Rhysand have about Lucien and Elain. It’s made into ‘Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls’ (Chapter 24). There was even the handwave of ‘oh this homosexual relationship may be the product of a mating bond, but they’re probably keeping it a secret from everyone’.

To be honest, I don’t think it succeeded in explaining away the problematic elements of mating. The biological imperatives were still there, ‘the bond is nothing more than...preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring’ (Chapter 24). Aggression was still a major part of the male side of the bond (like when we get the internal monologue of Lucien and witness him fighting his ‘instincts’) and it’s still implied that men are slaves to the desire that the bond generates, whereas women don’t feel it as strongly/can control their physical desires? ‘But the males...It can drive them mad. It is their burden to fight through’ (Chapter 24) This has some serious ramifications in terms of gendered conceptions of sexual drive. In my opinion, mating bonds are still squicky.

I now mostly just want SJM to put her money where her mouth is and follow through on her attempts at muddying the water: if she insists on pairing the spares, have Elaine get together with Azriel rather than Lucien, and show a relationship where the mating bond is terminated not because of outright physical abuse on the side of the male, but because of a romantic attraction overcoming a sexual/biological one. (Yes, I ship it. Or rather, I ship Elaine overcoming her trauma and going on to be a badass seer, building herself a temple and calling out bullshit like Cassandra in ancient Troy. But if she needs to have a boyf – and it’s SJM so she probably does – I want it to be Sad Shadow Man.)

‘Helion favours both males and females. Usually together in bed’ (Chapter 47). I’m not saying that bisexuality can’t work this way, but I gather that SJM has used the hypersexualised bisexual trope before. 

I think that perhaps Mor’s jealousy of Nessian is because she’s attracted to Nesta (a la season 1 Korrasami)? But even so her possessiveness of Cassian and her hostility towards Nesta was horrible and OOC and made me angry every time it happened. I hate it whenever female-female relationships are sacrificed because of a guy, but it is particularly frustrating in a book where male-female relationships are definitely already the priority. And given the way that Nessian is reaching canonical status, even if you do attribute the jealousy to female-female attraction, it’s only going to end badly for Mor.

Feyre used Mor’s sexuality as a weapon against her after she was justifiably called out on reckless behaviour. Fuck off Feyre.

I know that Azriel is a good character. I know this. And yet this book turned his relationship with Mor into this awful poster child ‘friendzone’ dynamic, where Mor feels pressurised to hide her sexuality because of the hurt it will cause *him*. I don’t think this is a fault of the characters, but of the entire treatment of their friendship and SJM’s portrayal of Mor’s queerness as a burden.

No main characters die. In this apparently impossible war that basically ends in an afternoon. No – everyone is magically resurrected after barely five pages.

Bonus points for not even having the courage to keep Amren out of fae form and thus rip up her incipient ship with Varien. You could have written an entire book on the inner circle going off on a quest to find and subdue a superhuman dragon Amren unshackled from the bonds of human morality. But no. She’s ‘in the cauldron’.

DEUS EX MACHINAS (dragon ex machinas?) MAKE ME WANT TO SCREAM. Find a better way to resolve your conflicts. Especially when even the decision to unshackle Amren from her human form in order for her to become the Deus ex Machina in question has literally no lasting consequences.

Speaking of deus ex machinas: is anyone else annoyed that the only death god who survives the battle is Bryaxis, the one who only asked for a window in exchange for his services, rather than freedom and an implicit murder spree? This means that there are literally no consequences to these so-called ‘tough decisions’ that have to be made in times of war, and everything can just go on fine. ‘No evil death gods were permanently unleashed in the making of this war.’

Can I forcibly rip SJM away from the Russian mythology that she is no doubt going to butcher in the continuation of this series? As soon as I read the name ‘Koschei’ I groaned aloud. You can’t just take whatever mythology you like and use it to make your own magic system! You’ve already detached the Morrigan from any semblance of Celtic Mythology!!!

That being said, I did like:

That the Archeron sisters FINALLY seem to be forming a strong friendship rather than the girl-on-girl hate mess it’s been for the past few books. I liked that Nesta was as powerful as Feyre, and had a more integral role in the final battle than she did.

I liked that in Feysand we see a stable ‘after they get together’ relationship. I still think ACOMAF is ‘stronger’ as a book, as SJM is better at writing romance than plot, but at least there was no needless YA angst, beyond Rhys’ martyrdom complex.

And this sounds awful, but I’m glad that Feyre had a PTSD relapse. I felt that in ACOMAF, her recovery from mental illness was equated a little too strongly with her growing romance with Rhys. Love doesn’t cure mental illness, and I’m glad the SJM showed that.

But overall, this book (much like this commentary) was a bit of a rambling mess of little consequence.

[maneatingbadger]

Review - Wonder Woman (2017)

TL;DR: Wonder Woman is good. It has problems. See it, and discuss the problems. Also, airplanes. 

Wonder Woman (2017) is a good film. If you haven’t seen it yet, you should. (Trailer)

Wonder Woman is an important film. Women led and directed it. The character is a feminist icon and welcome change from ongoing male dominance of the superhero genre, at least on the big screen (can’t comment on comics). 

Wonder Woman is a long film. At just over 140 minutes runtime it never drags, but evening theatergoers may be shocked at the lateness of the hour when they exit, as I was last night. 

Now for some rambling thoughts (mild spoilers ahead). 

Wonder Woman is set in the waning days of World War I, a change from her Second World War origins that initially gave me pause. The mainstream moral authority of the Allies in WWII has its complexities, yet they pale in comparison to the more prominent clash of competitive imperialism a couple decades earlier. But Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot), aka Diana Prince, is a superhero. Her joining the Allies is a foregone conclusion, and my apprehensions were almost immediately justified (and remained so almost to the very end) when downed pilot Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) calls himself “a good guy” and points at the Germans on the beach as “the bad guys.” Then he explains how the Ottoman Empire is keeping the Kaiser supplied with munitions, so now the faceless, menacing Turks join the evil German monolith. WWII at least had Nazis to punch, but you can’t read All Quiet on the Western Front and come away feeling the German Army in WWI was total evil. 

Then again, maybe you can. Rows of women sitting behind me fucking applauded and cheered as Diana cut swaths through German infantrymen. Never mind that some of them were undoubtedly conscripts, never mind that a German soldier was as patriotic as a Brit or Frenchman, never mind that war is hell and both sides learned that quickly. I can’t believe I’m praising this aspect of Captain America: The First Avenger, but at least Red Skull’s Hydra soldiers were basically Star Wars Stormtroopers circa Original Trilogy: totally made up and combat ineffective. It didn’t matter how many Hydras Steve Rogers and his Brooklyn Boy Band killed, because they were Bad Guys™ and also usually faceless behind masks. But they chose to set Wonder Woman in the actual fighting of WWI, not Marvel’s faux war within (and beyond) a war, and wanton slaughter is rarely a point of satisfaction in the far-from-perfect Hollywood war genre. I certainly never cheered as Tom Hanks’s unit outflanked and suppressed German bunkers in Saving Private Ryan, or when Japanese defenders repeatedly ambushed Marines in Letters from Iwo Jima. Yet we’re supposed to feel inspired by Wonder Woman singlehandedly disposing of fifty poor German boys because she looks good doing it?

Of relevance: The PG-13 rating (and associated lack of gore and violence you might expect from a dedicated WWI period piece) may contribute to some viewers’ lack of empathy for the wounded or dead. I’m not saying Wonder Woman should have been an R-rated war flick, because 1) that’s not what it was ever going to be, and 2) the audience most urgently needing this movie is young girls, so the more accessible the better. But the end result is still a fairly tame view of Western Front conditions. And the lack of blood from Diana cutting her way through German squads with a sword is desensitizing and immersion-breaking. 

Also of relevance: Diana at one point accuses a Scottish sniper (Ewen Bremner)—and more general practitioners of fighting from a distance, e.g., artillery—of fighting without honor because they do not necessarily see those they kill (or, in the case of generals and other REMFs, those they send off to die). There’s a lot to unpack here. The Amazons are a warrior society that worships leading from the front. An obvious drawback to that is when General Antiope dies on the beach: The Amazons lose their top commander (among others) in a skirmish to a small bunch of German sailors. Considering the qualitative and quantitative differences, that is not a favorable exchange ratio. Beyond that, snipers (like drone pilots) arguably see their targets in a much more intimate fashion than any other soldier does, thanks to their scopes (or camera turrets) and the long periods of observation that can precede pulling the trigger. We’ll cut Diana some slack because the Amazons have no concept of ranged warfare beyond the bow, but the notion of “honor” is also complicated. Michael Moore and others have voiced their hatred for snipers as cowards, as if war is a gentleman’s duel. Ethics in war usually applies to noncombatants and enemies who surrender: Those, in other words, who aren’t fighting you, are vulnerable, and have been found throughout history to merit protection. Killing them is cowardly, a point Diana also makes, but killing enemy combatants isn’t. If it were, what “honor” exists in racking up body counts against foes that cannot physically harm you? A sniper hides, a demigod is, well, a demigod, both are practically immune from preventative counters or immediate retaliation. Whither honor, Diana?

Diana’s concern for civilians hit by indiscriminate weapons like artillery and gas is curious in light of Gadot’s compulsory service in the IDF and support for Israel’s bloody 2014 Gaza campaign. This deserves more attention than I or anyone will give it, and I apologize for a level of compassion fatigue those in Gaza, Jordan, and the West Bank surely recognize all too well. Fans are forced to choose between a white feminist cinematic triumph and a marginalized and oppressed community (that this is a conundrum itself speaks volumes), no one wants to tackle Israel-Palestine on top of misogyny, and those sympathetic to Palestinians are losing the PR fight. It shouldn’t be a binary solution set: I gladly join the chorus hailing the film as an important cultural touchstone, and I embrace criticizing Gadot for her support of apartheid, occupation, and, ironically, civilian casualties, especially as she somehow manages not to choke on lines like “I’m willing to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves” or “only love can truly save the world.” Again, when Israeli fighters bomb hospitals, whither honor?

The above point also touches on larger intersectionality concerns that I’ll let other takes explain. 

Captain America aside: Like The First Avenger, Wonder Woman is an origin story about a gorgeous, invincible hero fighting the Germans for the Americans in Europe that ends on a multi-engined doomsday-device-carrying German bomber—hijacked on a suicide mission to save the day by a guy named Steve!

Back to WWI: I was fully prepared to write this movie off as “The Western Allies are good, the Central Powers and Turks are evil, and justice wins in the end.”  But Trevor neatly resolved my qualms in a short monologue while trying to convince a disillusioned Diana to keep helping him. Can’t find it online yet, but it goes something like “Maybe we’re all at fault! Maybe none of us deserve saving!” Diana gradually realizes that humans don’t need the malign influence of Ares, the Greek God of War and primary antagonist, to keep fighting and killing each other, that WWI was never divisible into “good” and “bad guys,” and this is after Chief (Eugene Brave Rock) the Blackfoot character’s almost throwaway line that Trevor’s people drove his off their land “in the last war.” Before those moments, Wonder Woman’s WWI setting was terrible; after them, it was at worst imperfect, a hit-and-miss attempt to address violence as a human phenomenon waged by problematic protagonists. I wish they’d addressed that earlier and more inclusively (the Germans and Turks still resonate as one-dimensional “bad guys”), but I’m impressed at how centrally and effectively that message played out in the end. 

The WWI setting brings us to the level of realism, continuity, and historical accuracy, oft-losing propositions for Hollywood in general at the best of times that tend to fare even worse in the superhero genre. To this day I will not forgive Marvel for its patently ridiculous modern-day helicarriers. But Wonder Woman misses the mark by less than I feared. Here’s what I was able to catch in one viewing: 

The Fokker Eindecker that Trevor flies to escape from Ottoman Turkey was the first operational fighter with a gun synchronized to shoot through the spinning propeller, allowing fixed guns on the centerline for improved accuracy. 

Eindeckers were deployed in the Middle East between 1916 and 1917, though they were mostly replaced by Fokker D.7’s when Wonder Woman rolls around a year a later. Still, props (get it?) to the movie for spotlighting a lesser film star and not the cinematically overused Camels and triplanes.

Note that Trevor escaped from Turkey in a light aircraft with a top speed of 76 knots and endurance under two hours. Even assuming a generous range of 200 miles from the Turkish coast, he can only splash down in the Black Sea or eastern Mediterranean, a rough clue to the location of the edge of Themyscira’s shield barrier. Then he and Diana take a small single-masted sailing vessel from there to London, a voyage of nearly 3,000 miles depending on where he crashed. 

The internet speculates that Themyscira may not exist on our temporal or spatial plane and therefore lacks a permanent location. This 1) could mean the island was closer to the UK when the two set out by boat, and 2) accounts for the island’s obscurity in a heavily trafficked area until Trevor’s fighter and the pursuing German warship blundered into it. Still, you’d think Zeus could have done better than a shield blocking only visible light.

Speaking of that warship, the ensuing beach battle has holes. The novelization disposes of the Kriegsmarine surface combatant on a coral reef, and I do recall wondering why the ship seems to roll and rise at an angle in the background at one point, but this was only a few frames and barely registered on my fellow viewers. Then its rowboats hit the beach in a horrifying demonstration of what happens when technological superiority is overwhelmed by the numerical variety. Passages came to mind from The Gun by CJ Chivers about the use of rapid-fire Maxim and Gatling guns against native tribes in European colonies, specifically the change in outcome when those guns jammed and a handful of soldiers confronted tribal human waves with muskets, bayonets, and bare hands. Similarly, the German riflemen open fire to deadly effect, but the Amazons overwhelm their rate of fire with a frontal cavalry charge. It doesn’t hurt that the Amazons are Made in Olympus, pursue a ridiculous fitness and training regimen, and fight like badasses. 

But they don’t confront Trevor until after the Germans are slain, though he wears a German disguise and grabs a rifle from a sailor in the melee. He is an armed male intruder, and only Diana recognizes his actions as friendly, yet he isn’t killed in the confusion or even threatened at sword- or bow-point afterward.

Speaking of swords, bows, and horses, the Amazon way of war could be much more effective if they emerged a century or even half a century earlier, in the heyday of post-Napoleonic fighting. Queen Hippolyta’s claim that they have nothing to fear while hiding in paradise already failed as an argument to shelter Diana from training; unexamined is what that level of sheltering applied to Amazon society as a whole portends if and when Themyscira finds itself exposed to an ever-advancing outside world. If Diana had come out a quarter century later, she would have confronted heavier and more destructive weapons probably beyond the protective envelope of her shield (unless it’s vibranium, though Wikipedia says an indestructible goat hide, which I like even more) and wrist/ankle bracelets. Her run through No Man’s Land was remarkably devoid of shrapnel, explosives, and weapons fire despite the whole trench line of German regulars shooting at an upright target, and she was stopped cold by machine-gun nests: Imagine 88mm shells from a line of King Tigers or 500lb bombs from diving Stukas. 

She may be a rapid-healing demigod immune to poison gas, but we also see her bleed and block bullets rather than take them. Modern weaponry can hurt and even kill her. And I haven’t even mentioned nukes.

Back to rivet counting: I can’t find any good images yet of the large German bomber from the climactic scene, but it appears to be a fictional version of the so-called Riesenflugzeug or “giant aircraft” bombers produced by Zeppelin-Staaken. 

Like the historical Zeppelin-Staaken R.VI, the movie version appears to have four engines (one Giant was even fitted with a fifth in the nose), but the movie plane has them arranged in four separate forward-facing engine nacelles. The R.VI by contrast had twin-engine pairs with one “pusher” and one “puller” propeller each. I’ll probably also come back to this once that scene is posted online.

The tank whose tracks are used to restrain Wonder Woman at the climax seemed to have the rhomboid shape of a British heavy tank, though the setting is a German-held airfield. 

The Germans captured a number of British heavy tanks of various marks and genders, so perhaps this is a pre-owned model. Again, I’ll be better able to confirm that once the scene is uploaded.

Poison gas is the movie’s most salient and best-realized WWI characteristic.

That about does it for first-runthrough nitpicking (IMDB has more on wristwatches and trouser zippers).

Oh, Rupert Gregson-Williams’s soundtrack is typical superhero fare that didn’t leave much of an impression, but the end credits piece before Sia’s single sounded awful familiar. I later thought I heard elements of Jeremy Soule’s Supreme Commander and Forged Alliance, Ramin Djawadi’s Pacific Rim, and Tom Holkenborg’s Mad Max: Fury Road OSTs, but maybe that’s just me.