#how he doesn't even want to acknowledge her existence now that she's gone

[immortalsins]

if someone could hit me round the head and make me unconscious from maybe 23rd december until the 27th or something that would be a huge help

[coconutdays]

consume

s. in a world of ghouls and humans, you've got a crush on a really hot guy with tattoos, but that doesn't mean he's a ghoul right?

w.c. 5.9k

w. fem! reader, ghoul!sukuna! x reader , fluff!, smut!, cannibalism!, gore!

a/n: this is a continuance on this thought of mine :)I just wrote this to get this out of my system :/ don't think I cooked as I usually do! but feel free to indulge in ghoul sukuna to at least scratch the itch.

"is that him y/n?" your friend's eyes widen and she grabs you by the shoulders, staring into the void of your soul "go up to him. now."

you came for drinks with your friends just a couple minutes ago. and you were so unaware until now, that across from you is the random hot guy you always see on your way home.

your friend, the one bolstering you to go up to him, has heard of this crush. considering you can't spend a day without talking about the hotness of this man.

"I-I, " you start to stutter, "I shouldn't. I see him all the time around the neighborhood and he's never so much as bat an eye at me or acknowledged my presence."

"and I do not care," she huffs, turning you around and beginning to push you in his direction at the bar, "no guy is capable of rejecting your beauty when its waved right in front of their face."

you hear her huffing and can probably make out how flushed her cheeks are from going against your planted feet on the ground, scared to go up to the man nearing you, even though its you coming closer. you feel your heartbeat quicken by at least 50 beats and the adrenaline from such a simple act is rushing through your veins.

until you're there. and he's doesn't even move to face you, his eyes just dart to you.

"hi." you manage to choke out.

he smells like like leather and stone cold vanilla. it's a smell you won't be able to get out of your head tonight.

he looks like he's about to sigh and say something to send you walking away, but you speak again before he can dismiss you, possibly, "I think you're handsome and I wanted to talk to you."

"you looking for a quick fuck?" his voice rumbles so nonchalantly as he takes a sip of his whiskey

"no." you answer in a heartbeat, quickly moving your head from side to side as a sign of your counter to the idea, "I don't think I would be this nervous if I was just looking for that."

"Then what are you looking for?" He's suddenly looming over you, body now turned to face you and his early stance of dismissal gone. although you don't know if that's what you prefer now considering this is so much more intimidating. he's squinting his eyes at you just a tad and you can tell he's biting his cheek.

"something that doesn't hurt me." is all you can speak into existence, softly.

he stares at you

he stares at you for a long while, his brown eyes so light, they're almost red. it's intense and you don't know what he's playing at.

he gets up abruptly, the chair that was beneath him screeching, face unnerved when he reaches a hand out expectantly, "your phone."

your eyes widen and you fumble around for your phone before planting it in his hand.

"what's your name," he says as he presses what you suppose is his contact information into your phone.

you hear a ring coming from his back pocket when you answer, "y/n"

"sukuna," he replies back curtly before handing you back yours and moving to shut off his phone. he then takes out a ten dollar bill and puts it on the countertop before turning to leave, "stay with your friends, it's not safe on your own out there."

you hadn't noticed at all that your friend had left you to talk to the familiar stranger, sukuna now, at some point during the interaction. when you turned around, your group was staring between you and the ominous figure leaving as if they were watching a thriller movie and needed a bowl of popcorn to shove their hands into.

when you were on the way home by cab that night, you received a text, that seemed a manifestation due to how hard you prayed for the next buzz from your phone to be from him.

it was a curt reminder that he would meet you outside your apartment--that he also asked for the address of--the following morning so he could take you out. and nothing more. it was so curt, that although he was still inviting you out, you made it your mission to dress your most attractive the next morning.

you notice he's already outside of the door when peek your head out the door early, doubtful of how early he would be, which he was. sukuna had gotten there ten minutes beforehand, at the least. and although you weren't that mentally prepared to be out with him, you sucked it up and tried your best to confidently walk out the door when he noticed you.

"looks like we're both early," you joke a bit shyly, fiddling with the straps of your purse

"if you need more time you can go back up," he says, having straightened his posture from leaning against the wall and now looking at the busying street, as if to stay aware of his surroundings

"no it's okay, I've been ready for about half an hour now," you smile meekly in embarrassment

the comment makes him flick an eye to you, "should have told me."

"for?" you blink up at him, unaware

"for me to show up earlier," he clicks with his tongue before looking to the left and motioning for the both of you to start walking

it's about ten minutes into your silent walk to who knows where that you hear him speak again without previous poking, "you eat breakfast?"

"yes, actually! it was a lot so im still pretty full, considering the time."

"alright," he nods before locking eyes on something and placing a surprisingly gentle hand on the small of your back to maneuver you to your left, "it's here."

and the small entrance he guides you through leads to an immediate splash of greenery

a garden, a large one, surrounded by something you couldn't make out

"it's a bookshop."

and now you could make out the shelves through the surrounding windows

there's a number of different flowers surrounding you and you can't help but dash to a rather beautiful spawn of peonies.

"they're so beautiful!" you bite your lip in excitement, like you'd just seen a puppy. and that's when you spot a small pathway leading to a shrouded bench.

and you get an idea, "do you think they have Takatsuki in there?"

sukuna quirks a brow at you, "you like that insane shit?"

"I like creepy stuff." you blink at him, shamelessly stating the interest of yours

"come on," he juts his chin towards the far end of the garden, where the entrance was

moments later, you come out with a hardcover edition of The Black Goat's Egg you'd been vying for for months, purchased by sukuna, who asked, "that the one you want?" when you said yes, he plucked it from your hands and paid for it at the register.

"thank you." you say in appreciation when you set your purse down next to you on the bench, and flip to the beginning page of the book while sukuna adjusts himself next to you.

the handsome giant says nothing and instead drapes an arm over the side of the bench behind you and flicks his eyes towards the book, waiting for you to read like you'd promised so.

"you'll like it," you smile at him before subconsciously sinking just a little into his personal space and adjusting the book comfortably onto your lap, "ahem..."

you had been reading for about an hour and a half now, and sukuna showed no signs of distaste for the book. he hadn't said a word since the moment you started reading, listening and skimming over the book with you.

"mother's hands carved out the veins beneath his chest, not me. from her nails came the rotten smell of hardened blood. oh this is my favorite part. but I could feel the pulsing of his lungs on my hands. how his heart still beat when I had opened his chest. the breath of life beneath my palms, inhaling and exhaling. my excitement brewed, a woman's touch knew nothing of the enthrallment this brought me-"

grrrrrrrrrr

embarrassing

there's no way in hell your stomach just did that in front of him. you try to mutter a quick sorry and pick back up where you left off, but the moment you open your mouth again after the quick apology, sukuna interrupts you.

"it's time for you to eat."

why did he say that like you were some sort of pet.

he was such a serious speaker sometimes.

while you start to gather your things, sukuna already stands up and reaches a hand out for you to stabilize yourself on.

"I don't think its time time," you say while taking his hand, not wanting to go back to your apartment yet and finish reading yet, "I won't cook normally until another half hour from-"

"you said you liked the same type of pasta the guy was eating in the book right," he cut you off, levitating a hand over your shoulders that simply wooed you into stepping next to him at a comfortable pace while he moved for the both of you to cross the street.

"yeah..."you agreed, catching another whiff of his cologne in the breeze

and that's how you wound up with him ordering a full plate for you and a boring cup of coffee for himself moments later at a restaurant.

"you sure you're not hungry?" you questioned worriedly, eyes searching for any illness on him, scared to grab the fork before you

"I'm cutting, I'll cook at home." he shrugged

"cook what then?" you almost pout, feeling bad that you were going to be feasting in front of him while he merely had a coffee

he looked you dead in the eyes and said before taking a sip of his coffee, "steak."

"ghoul." you shot back while reaching for your fork and making towards the pasta

for the first time, you saw irritation on sukuna's face in the form of a twitch of his nose, "beef. steak."

he seemed so serious and you couldn't help but stick your tongue out playfully, "I know, but you might as well be one if you're that built from so much protein. heh."

sukuna let a tsk out and took a sip of his coffee, "eat your food."

you wound up getting walked home by sukuna later after the meal, a full stomach and new book, both provided by him upon your return.

"thank you again for the book" the corners of your lips quirked up a little cutely, "and for the meal too."

"you still need to eat something later tonight."

"I will" you nod and look up at him earnestly before reaching for his hand and gesturing for him to be level with you.

"goodbye," you land a quick peck on his cheek and let go of his hand, already rushing towards your building door and entering the code in as fast as possible. you couldn't look back, and didn't .

this pattern of dates repeats itself quite often after. sukuna's taken you to what seems like every bookstore in the city and purchased whatever makes your fancy every time. he's had you read for him. he's bought you every sweet and dessert you've wanted. he's brushed a crumb of a macaroon of your lips, carried you bridal style to avoid getting your shoes wet in a large street puddle, the most endearing things, albeit stoically, but

he's never kissed you

you think it has something to do with how stoic he is. maybe there's some sort of damage with him. he's so immersed whenever he's with you, learning and observing you, but it's always felt as if he's keeping part of himself watered down with you.

a hint of snarkiness has left him before, you saw so when a little girl in a park punched an older boy for yanking on her pigtail.

and he never takes you out at night. he hasn't specifically said he doesn't want to go out during the late hours of the afternoon or night, but he always manages to schedule your outings to end before so.

it's why you bite the bullet, and make today's lunch, into a dinner hosted by you, with the convenient excuse that your work asked you to come in for finishing touches on a project you'd be presenting next week and couldn't make it to lunch.

sukuna agreed with no qualms, that you couldn't see through the screen of your phone of course, and even asked if you needed any ingredients.

your chicken had already been in the oven for about twenty minutes when he had knocked on your door--you had texted him the code to your building earlier.

"hi." you breathed, opening the door for him to come in, "I put this chicken recipe I found online to bake. it's supposed to be healthy."

sukuna walked further into your apartment and analyzed his surroundings while you yapped away.

"it's probably not like the steak you eat, maybe less in protein, but I think you'll like it. I don't think I could make steak that good for someone else on the first try..."

"your hand," he slightly quirks a brow up and gestures towards your right hand, two bandages on your middle and pointer finger.

"tomato dicing mishap," you give him a sheepish closed mouth smile while raising your hand up, "it's a bit more annoying than a paper cut. bleeds more than one."

"I could order for here-"

"no! it's okay. I'm done anyway. I need to take out the chicken in a bit anyways." and you move to grab the controller to your tv, "do you have anything in mind you want to watch?”

“the news.”

you slightly furrow your brows, but accommodate to his request then leave the controller on the coffee table, "you see something happen?"

"just don't like not knowing what's going on," he huffs gruffly while eyeing the ongoing news report for the day.

"A ghoul has atrociously murdered and consumed various members of our community. last night's victim is unidentifiable, but his age can be estimated to be about thirty. surveillance cameras near the area show no capture evidence of who could have done this, but reports and evidence point to it being the same perpetrator of the last couple of murders this month-"

you walk to your oven to get the chicken out and start to put on your mittens, "at least it's not girls."

sukuna's eyes flicker towards you, interested in what you're saying, "you should be scared."

you're setting the hot pan on the countertop when you look back at him, eyes clean of any fear, "but he's been eating shit guys."

sukuna turns his body to you and crosses his arms, as if he's about to chew your ear off for saying that, but you continue, moving to plate the food for both of you, "all the bodies they've reported are all well distinguished low life perverts, some have even tried to chase me down when I say no. one of them tried taking a picture under my skirt once."

you place the plates on either side of the dining table for the both of you and sit down, "whatever ghoul that's getting his full with them doesn't scare me. we know he eats a lot, if those guys weren't enough, he'd go for girls already. and before you bite my head off for not being scared, you should know by now that I rarely go out at night, especially not without someone with me. now sit, food's ready."

sukuna eyes moves towards the dining table and eyes your dish a bit wearily as he slides his chair out for him to sit on.

when he sits, you speak again, "I got the recipe from one of those super healthy bodybuilders, so it should be good enough for you. plus, I'm a good cook."

sukuna still stairs into the void, where our plate should be, but he makes for the knife and fork you put for him, "thank you."

and he enjoyed it, you think. he didn't say it was good, but he finished his plate diligently. if he hated it, he would have said something, or shown it on his face.

"I'll wash the dishes," he said when you were about to reach for his plate and instead he took both of yours and got up.

"oh, okay," you observed as he turned on the faucet, his back to you, he looked out of place in the small spot, "I can start putting a movie, you liked when I read Howl's Moving Castle, I have the movie for it."

You looked for a response, and you received one in the form of a nod, so you stood up and sat on the couch, looking through your streaming services.

sukuna finishes faster than you expected

"I need to take a piss," he says as he walks towards the restroom

"okay," you responded without hesitation as you tried to restart the movie considering your streaming service was glitching on you and the movie was already in the ends credits--you watched it that often.

you solved the problem quicker than you thought, because when sukuna comes back from peeing, you've already got the movie paused at the beginning, waiting for him to sit so you can press play.

and when he does sit, it's at a distance from you, which you don't make a comment about because hey, maybe he's just a guy with boundaries.

and it's halfway through the movie that you have barely even paid attention to your favorite movie of all time. the music you always enjoy and look forward to seems to have never reached your ears. the funny antics by Calcifer don't elicit a giggle from you.

"why haven't you tried to kiss me?"

is he even attracted to you? because you have boundaries and you're a woman, but

you want his hands on you for more than just protection or help. you want to know what it feels like to sit on his lap, that you're sure is more comfortable than your couch considering how meaty and large he is.

and now you're in silence, even though the tv must be at more than the recommended volume setting.

"do you want me to?" sukuna asks, still watching the movie, but you can tell his attention is entirely on you

"I wouldn't be saying anything if I didn't want you to..." you breathe, cursing yourself for bringing such an awkward situation upon the both of you. the movie seems as if its not being processed by your eyes even though you're staring at it, too scared to look at him.

the need to backtrack overcomes you and you feel like you need to overexplain your lack of manners and how he should disregard what you're saying when-

he's tilted your chin towards him

and his mouth is on yours

its beyond sensual and you can feel your thighs shift against each other, but nowhere is it an intense roughness.

he's a godsend, you think, right as he pulls away and gets up.

you're dazed and confused as he walks to your door

"I preferred when you read the book to me," he states monotonously while he shrugs his leather jacket on and opens the door.

"I'll send for a dessert for you later." he's halfway through the doorway and his back is to you, "don't finish it all if you still feel full. your cramps get worse with sugar."

"my cramps-"

he shuts the door and you're left dumbfounded in your living room

oh. he must've seen the packaging of your pad thrown in the restroom bin.

later that night, there was a large helping of warm churros that a guy delivered to your apartment building.

you img_786 thank you, they're really good

sukuna don't finish all of it

you I won't <3

and then he's gone

for a month you haven't heard from him

you shouldn't be rotting in your bed this often, but you are. you don't want to frequent out unless its with him. the few bookstores you did know before him, and went to after with him are sickeningly wrapped in the ambience of him.

going out at night reminds you that he didn't like when you were out at night, sending punctual texts about whether you were home or not

the walk home, where you got excited to even see him for a second is a disdainful reminder of him.

and you feel so ridiculed

the last time you talked, it was because you technically asked for a kiss that he ended up giving

but then walking away and going home.

it hurt your ego

you ran out of matcha tea a bit before sundown. it was a calming drink for you, something you'd been finding comfort it especially during this time.

so you left your apartment to go to the grocery store in your neighborhood. it was a weekday, so the streets weren't all that crowded, everyone was already on the way home.

it was a quick trip, you came out with a tin of matcha and a tub of ice cream, but the sun was halfway through its descent back into the night.

nothing would happen. ghouls don't lurk the moment the sun sets.

your apartment is around the corner when you hear a familiar voice.

"don't move unless you want me to eat your kagune."

why does that sound a lot like him?

there was a sort of mushy sound that followed, then a painful groan

or screech, you couldn't tell the the difference from how pained it was

"please sukuna! I-I didn't know-"

a scream followed, along with a grotesque noise

he said sukuna's name? is that-

"AHAHAHAA LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP YOUR LUNGS ARE! BASICALLY SHREDS IN MY HANDS!"

it's undeniably his voice, but you've never heard him like this.

if you could just get a look, turn your head over the alleyway just a little

you almost vomit at the sight.

the man you had been moping over for the past few weeks had four large tentacles for a kagune, bright blood red and pinning down the man beneath him, who's lungs unmistakably were in sukuna's hands.

he was eating it like it was something easy, like a slice of ham

the other man-ghoul's intestines were spilling out onto the ground

and all you could do was stand still.

"I didn't know she was off-limits!" the ghoul cried, tears running down his half eaten face considering he was missing a piece of cheek.

"doesn't matter," sukuna retorted, digging a hand in again and taking out what looked like a liver, "what were you going to do to her huh?"

he took a bite and spoke with a full mouth in his face, "I know what lowlife creeps like you like to do to girls like her."

"and how are they supposed to stop coming if I let every creep that wanders near her live?"

and upon further inspection, you realize that the guy underneath him spoke to you this morning on the subway. he made uncomfortable conversation about your skirt and you got off the moment he started getting too close to your personal space

unbeknownst to you, you start shaking and your breath hitches

sukuna hears it

when he turns to face you, where the noise came from, his eyes are red this time, the whites blackened. he's breathing hard as he stares you down.

"go. home." is all he snarls menacingly

and no matter how hard you want to plant your feet and say no because you're mad at him, you run back home. the minute that was left in walking home became twenty seconds.

how you wound up at your apartment that fast was a wonder to you. but all you know is that so many things are making sense, but not at the same time.

that ghoul was going to come for you if it wasn't for sukuna. was sukuna the ghoul from the news? had he eaten all those men? god, you can't even remember all the times you've been cat-called or bothered on the street. how long had he been doing this?

"open the door."

you're back to reality at the sound of sukuna behind the door to your apartment

maybe if you pretend you're not-

"I can hear your heart beating, open the door."

"I don't want to!" you try not to yell, speaking as firmly as you can so as to not garner unwanted attention.

"if you open the door," he starts to speak with irritation that so tells you theres a just as irritated smile on his face, "I can explain to you."

"why do you want to talk now?" you stomp your foot on the ground, praying that the inertia stops the tears building on your waterline from falling down your cheeks

"open the door and I'll tell you y/n." he says, patience still wavering

he stares you down menacingly when you abruptly open the door, but you've got your own look to challenge, brimming with almost tears and an anger like no other at how he hurt you

"I told you to not go out at night."

"how long ago was that huh?" you retort

sukuna bites his cheek and enters your apartment, planting himself in the farthest corner of your living room to argue with you.

"you still know better." he gestures a hand to the window, outside, "I don't care if there's still a couple minutes before the sun sets. don't go outside."

"why not, you'll be there to eat anyone who lurks near me."

your nose is scrunched at him in anger and for the first time, it looks like he has nothing to say

"were you the ghoul from the news the other night?" you sniffle

sukuna looks at you with dead irritation, like he has a million things to say, but none at the same time.

"are you trying to keep me to yourself? to eat me on a rainy day, like a special treat? is that why you couldn't bare to date me? because I was just food?"

"no." he bites back, arms crossed, tongue poking through his cheek while his head moves to face the other way

"then?" you waiver, hands dropped to the sides of your body in fists.

"I'm a ghoul," his red eyes dart to you, pinning you under his gaze," you're a human."

"you can't stand that I'm a human?" you step back, hurt

it seems your words confund him to irritation again when he responds, "you just saw me eating someone's lungs."

"he was going to eat me." you reason

"you're an idiot..." he scoffs, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground

"then why are you still here?" you bite back

your retaliation seems to have set him off, because he soon starts walking towards you and pins you under his body and the countertop behind you

"I was born to eat you," he snarls close to your face, "I will find a way to break you. it's nature. every single day, all I can think about is how much I want to sink my teeth into your flesh. does that not scare you?"

"maybe that's because you never tried to take out your urges on me in other ways." you murmur defiantly

the comment makes him stand still, leaving both of your breaths as the only sound in the room.

"you don't know what you're saying." his nose twitches

"neither do you, you've never tried."

his hands are gripping the countertop so hard, you can hear a slight crumble.

but then sukuna's breathing grows ragged and it would have alarmed you, were it not for his following actions.

his arms brings your entire body towards him when he envelopes you in a nasty kiss.

this

this was sexual

his chest grumbles when you stick your tongue into his mouth and he sucks on it painfully

the bliss is so entrancing, you can't even distinguish the metallic taste.

one of his hands goes to envelop your ass and the grip he has is so strong and painful that you think he's made finger sized holes in your jeans.

the moan that leaves you is far too sinful, but he pulls you impossibly closer and grabs you by the back of your legs to pull you up. sukuna then starts walking to the only other door that doesn't lead to the restroom. to your room.

he'd just bitten your lip to the point where you're sure it'd be bruised within an hour when he threw you onto the bed and yanked your pants off. you don't know if he tore them off or genuinely took them off, but all you know is that the sight when he takes off his shirt next is magnetizing. his body is sculpted and defined everywhere, his pecs are huge, his abs scrumptiously lining his abdomen, and his v-line makes you eager to jump on top of him.

but his tattoos, they're the cherry on top. there's two ragged lines, almost as if fangs scraping down his abdomen, and they seem as if they have brothers and sisters reaching to do the same down his pecs and on the small of his neck. you know about the others on his arms, but not these.

"take off your shirt before I rip it off and you start whining about it." he growls while he fiddles with his belt to push down his pants

you follow orders, no care for if he did rip your shirt (in the moment), but eager to have him

the hard on you're greeted with is just below terrifying.

were all ghouls this gifted?

you have a feeling this was just sukuna

"still feel like you can take it." sukuna snarls as he pushes you further up the bed and positions himself between your legs.

you don't even get a chance to make a comment on what he's about to so intimately do before he tears through the fabric separating your pussy from the outside and delves in without so much as a second thought.

not even ten seconds in and your legs are shaking furiously, with no stop to it so as long as he was on top of you

his tongue is penetrating you so deeply and you don't even have time to question if that's a biological feature on ghouls. all you know is that's it's wet and oh so stimulating, so much so, you're screaming and whining

there's no words you can say, you're screaming so much from the pleasure that you instinctively start to pull away from him, but he growls and keeps you in place

oh

he's been staring at you this entire time

with those eyes

mercy be

it's just enough to drag you to the tipping point and your relief washes over you and him, while he drinks it all up ferociously.

you think he's going to stop when it feels like he's licked you clean from your mess

until he doesn't

he goes on

and he goes on for what seems like an hour

you feel you've gone insane, you can't even count how many times he's made you cum since. you've never been destroyed this way.

your voice is gone when he comes up and stares at you, caging you between his arms.

you're not going to tap out, you try to say with your eyes

and he understands, as it seems, hiking up both of your legs to your chest and beginning to run his fat tip across your folds

"remember, you asked for this." sukuna mutters meanly when he pushes in in one go

you thought it was a lie when some girls said their boyfriends were so big, that they could feel their veins rubbing against their insides

it wasn't

even his tip is being molded to by your pussy

"oh my god," you moan painfully, "I can't-i'm gonna-"

"you can," he retorts, starting to pull back and the mere drag has you keening

you think you have the same effect, considering how labored his breathing has gotten and there's nothing left for you to do besides pull him in for a kiss to sedate yourself from the intensity happening below

the single beginning of the contact illicits sukuna's start of a ruthless pace

your moans seem to make him suck on your tongue punishingly every time. and your hands can't find nothing else to do besides drag painfully down his back. you think you might have just hurt your own hands from how hard his skin is.

sukuna stops kissing you while he pummels inside of you to speak

"scream for me."

command or not, you were still doing so

"filthy little slut," he groans through each stroke, "tightest fucking pussy I've ever fucked."

"pussy's fucking mine, you're never going to touch anyone else. if you even try, I'll kill them."

he keeps going like this, on and on and all you can do is nod and agree with everything he says, because let's be honest, who were you to even glance at someone else after this?

you notice purple indents forming where his hands are on your thighs when he leans down to your face and says, "whaddya say princess, you like being mine?"

"mhm," you nod ernestly, and gather the courage to speak, even if it is hoarse, "love it so much sukuna."

"gonna blow a huge fucking load in your pussy," he murmurs to himself more than anything

"plea-please." you moan needing to be as close to him as possible, feeling an idea surface to your mind

"bite me."

if sukuna weren't so depraved and lost in you, he would have stopped. but he keeps going and instead leans closer to hear you

"bite me," you breathe, almost screaming at the end, "just enough for it not to scar."

sukuna keeps staring at you while he destroys your insides, giving no indication as to if he was going to do follow through with your wishes, until he leans down to your chest

you scream in pain and a delicious ecstasy

there's a small little pool of blood coming from your skin and his mouth when you look down. his hips start stuttering too, and it makes you think that this might be his tipping point.

you're so fucked up that it's yours too

before you know it, his pace grows so erratic that you start cumming and pulsating around him sporadically, unable to contain yourself from the pleasure.

and he starts cumming too.

sukuna lifts himself up from your chest and captures your mouth in his, making you taste a part of yourself you never thought you would. he grows weak in the kiss too, while his cum seeps out and pools into you. it lets you nibble on his tongue, an action that him sinking into your body while he gives you a last few weak thrusts.

"ow," you giggle after a moment of silence

sukuna brings his head up quickly, eyes slightly wide and in worry

"how am I gonna wear a bra over that," you laugh, observing the bleeding bite mark over your boob

sukuna looks down at it, "just don't wear one."

"boobs bring perverts."

sukuna rolls his eyes in exhaustion and dips his head into your chest, licking your wound, "you're not going anywhere without me there anyway."

[krems-chair]

Don't mind me, just revisiting the plot (again) and dying over this line (again). (These screenshots are going to be abysmal, but you'll get the point).

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

Yeah he's talking about Mythal (earned or not) and Felassan and Lavellan and Varric...but the way it applies to HIM, too, is what absolutely guts me.

Long post ahead...

Solas realizing that Lavellan doesn't care about how others see him or want to use him under the inquisiton, that HIS motivations as he has shared them are enough for her and worth defending against those who would tell him he's something he isn't. Solas, for the first time, being confronted with the realization that one these new elves he does not see himself in will still go to bat for him.

(Is he duplicitous? Yes. But intent on working against Corypheus? Undoubtedly).

"You came here to help, Solas, I won't let them use that against you."

“How would you stop them?”

“However I had to.”

“...thank you.”

Solas grappling with the fact that it wasn't just a one off, that this Dalish woman being faced with "hypotheticals" he's desperately been trying to get her people to entertain is jumping in head first, pushing back and disagreeing with him but never treating him worse for their differences and always admitting when he's helped shape a changing perspective. Solas daring to ask for help and marveling at the fact that he receives it, that the same woman who asked if it might some day be possible to live alongside spirits, who did not immediately shoot down his critique of THE CHANTRY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE SPIRITS AS LEGITIMATE BEINGS (GAH), who did not laugh at him for saying he preferred their company most days, this woman, is going to drop time and resources during war time preparations to personally help his friend.

And then, when he is too late and has once again failed someone he considers a friend, he disappears within himself, where he has always gone to exact punishment for the weight of the lives he believes he's betrayed. It almost works, too.

Psych. Lavellan doesn't want him to grieve alone, to stare at the place in the Fade where his friend used to be and think of all he should have done differently.

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

“I know.”

“I’ll work on it. And thank you.”

But does she stop there? No. She doesn't chafe at this random apostate who speaks with certainty and unapologetically delves into a past he believes worth preserving, even at the cost of questioning her culture as it currently stands.

The very woman he once thought of as a mistake that HE unleashed upon the world is asking to be a part of his, not because of what he can bring to the table, not because she needs a right hand man, and certainly not because she thinks he has some well of power and intelligence critical to winning over enemies she’s willing to join for "supervisory" purposes (cough cough hi Mythal). She bears the weight of choices that can and will lead to death, to pain, and when it wears on her she relies on him, not for solutions but so that at the end of it all she might smile with someone who knows her heart and the good she tried to do amidst a sea of terrible options. She wants to be known, no inch of her unturned, and worse, she thinks she knows him. But how could she? This is no longer who he is, it is merely the remnants of what he destroyed to make a world at Mythal's whim.

And still she unbalances him, accepts him, wants more. Solas is sharing a personality that brings him the closest he has ever been to his spirit form, and it is ENOUGH for her. Existing as he has always dreamt of is all takes to earn her loyalty, respect, and eventually love.

“You’re an admirable man. Not many people know who they are the way you do.”

“Thank you. Both for saying that and…for seeing that. Few in this world can see me instead of just seeing a pair of pointed ears”

She. Sees. Him. Every part he slowly is realizing he wants to be known for and even a few he thought he could hide. And then he gives it all up. Because he woke to a new world where spirits and elves and mages were so far removed from the role they played in Arlathan that it can only be yet another mistake he caused and must fix, never mind the fact that the dwarves have forgotten why they fled underground millennia ago in the first place.

The friend who tore him from the world he loved, urged him to take physical form? She is dead, too, never mind the fact that she ignored his urging for a different path, nevermind that he killed and tore and hurt in her name because otherwise what was losing the part of himself he loved for?

"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”

“You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”

He may no longer recognize where the Dread Wolf ends and where Solas begins, but if he gives up now and permits himself the chance to remember, the pain he caused himself and others means nothing, because he did it all for Mythal and in his final discussion with her, regardless of what Veilguard tries to convey, she does not release him from his position as her agent.

And maybe that's part of why I'm so angry, because EVEN BEFORE TRESPASSER, the fragment of Mythal that ends up in Morrigan could have freed him, but she does not.

"The failure was mine," he tells her, voice trembling. "I should pay the price."

Silence.

"I am sorry." He whispers.

And do we get that "what we did, we did together" psuedo-fake ass-absolution, the one that, if given enough time and safety to put himself first he may have realised he doesn't truly need to pursue the things he deserves, that make him feel finally like himself again? No the fuck we don't.

"As am I, old friend." She murmurs.

Looking through the lens of Veilguard, this isn't an apology, it's a condemnation. It's Mythal tormenting him one more time, twisting the knife deeper, agreeing that it is Solas alone who has brought them to this point, who deserves to be punished. And then she reminds him what they are to each other, what he is supposed to be to her. What he must become again.

"It isn't abuse if I ask," Cole says in his personal quest.

"Not always true," Solas shoots back.

Var lath vir suledin. Our love will persevere.

I wish it could, vhenan.

And so he pushes onwards, spending almost a decade denying himself his true nature and regretting that he ever gave it a chance to come through because now he KNOWS that this world is different and a little broken, but it's a world he could be a part of because of the woman and the friends that made a place for him. It is a world that doesn't necessarily need to be restored as much as it might need renovation, but that is not the world Mythal demanded of him when she let him kill a remaining piece of her. And any solution but that means the hurt of taking a body, of hurting the titans, of time and time again being called on by one evanuris to fix a problem they all caused, was for nothing.

And a Pride of that magnitude, that sinister an origin, has a long, long way to fall.

So he recommits to the friend he gave up his nature for, he refuses to let himself remember that Lavellan learned the full truth of his identity and still begged him not to mourn alone. Even so, he still cannot quite forget.

He kills again. He kills again. He kills again.

He kills a friend.

He fails to prevent the Evanuris from wreaking havoc a second time, wrenches another innocent into his war, and when they ask him about the woman he calls vhenan, he feels the mask stifling him begin to suffocate. But he never lets it fall, because to surrender now is to place her broken heart atop the pile of regrets he's been holding up like Atlas crumbling beneath the weight of the world itself. Because he still thinks it selfish to want the things that make him feel like himself again, so they need to be taken off the board entirely.

And then that same uppity little shit has the audacity to tell him it's not too late, that he can turn back.

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

If he gives up now, his entire corporeal life has been a betrayal of many, but worst of all, he will have ruined himself for nothing.

But then she's there. A little older, a little sadder, and still looking at him like she did the night he almost broke and instead carefully removed any suggestion that she had ever belonged to anyone but herself.

"Didn't you hear me?" Her every action screams as she kneels to meet his gaze like he did the day he took her arm (another failure, another sacrifice he cannot let be for nothing).

The tombstone in the fade is his greatest fear, but it is not his fate. Why? She will not let it be. It cannot be his din'anshiral if she is not beside him.

Lavellan may not have understood the depth of exactly WHEN Solas first came somewhere foreign and uncertain to help, but she never once failed to keep her promise. She refuses to let his initial desire to do good be held against him any longer. And when she sees him accept that not-quite-absolution-definitely-more-of-a-power-play from the god that saw what he was capable of and molded him into a weapon, she finds her in to make sure he doesn't walk off alone to mourn again, never again will she lose him to the expectations others have of him. No doubt she wants to find a way to sink the fingers of her good hand into that spectral visage and tear it away like he wishes to do to the veil. But she is not here for Mythal. She is here for her heart, and for the man who has been carrying it since the moment her lips met his in the fade ten years ago.

“No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

"There is no fate but the love we share." She tells him as soon as Mythal's too-little-too-late platitudes send shudders through his body.

Banal nadas ar lath'ma vhenan.

She forces him to see that the only remaining betrayal is to lock himself away one more irreversible time. All that's left to lose is the piece of himself he cherishes more than his greatest victories: all that he has to gain comes from making sure the love that was given to him at Skyhold, in the moment where Varric saw all he was capable of and still tried to bring him back home, was not given in vain.

It will not be so terrible a place, so unforgivable a betrayal if he can finally dare to put himself first. If, unlike that night in Crestwood, he finally gives in not to break, but to make himself whole.

There's a codex entry in Inquisiton about a spirit of wisdom who is summoned by researchers and only after a very pleasant conversation do they realize they made a mistake and never successfully bound the spirit in the first place, that it chose to speak with them of its own accord.

"I am not certain the spirit would have talked so freely had it been shackled at the time," writes the author of the entry.

I keep thinking about this alongside the datamined line of Morrigan saying, "And so, the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things love."

But that isn't quite right, is it?

Because in the end, of course the Dread Wolf could only ever freed by, over everything, love.

[horsechestnut]

I just think it's really neat how much fans have latched onto the fact that Stephanie Brown was Robin.

Like, both in and out of universe Stephanie was never meant to be taken seriously as Robin. The writers only made her Robin so that her death in War Games would be shocking and Bruce only made her Robin because he thought it would make Tim jealous enough to come back. She only had the mantle for 71 days before being fired (for doing something that literally every other Robin has also done and not been fired over), and she was only active during 50 of them. There are only six issues where Steph is Robin in the canon timeline.

Her final words before her death are asking Batman (Batman, because even on her death bed he doesn't trust her enough to take off his mask) if any of it was real. Was she really Robin? And Batman assures her that of course she was, that she was part of the legend and no one can take it away from her. Except it's a lie, because despite his reassurances, Batman never puts up a memorial or does anything to preserve her memory. He never really thinks of her as Robin, and even her friends will always think of her as Spoiler before ever remembering Robin.

Meanwhile DC spent years ignoring her time as Robin, to the point where it was completely erased from existence for awhile. It's technically back now, because timelines are weird, but unlike the others it's never been altered. She's never been given a second chance at it, no one's ever gone back and added more issues or details about those 71 days, or even seems to want to acknowledge them most of the time.

But fans have clung on to it anyway. Sure, there are lots of people who make Robin posts that are just about the boys, but there are just as many people who are ready to fight anyone who doesn't include her. Maybe it was only for a little while, but she was Robin, and we're sure as hell not going to forget it. If DC isn't going to bother to remember, than we will.

Stephanie Brown was Robin. She was part of the legend. It was real. No matter what, no one can take that away from her.

[secretlysamcro]

#till it’s gone #question

Do you think Jax would have allowed and if so liked to get naughty pictures and videos from reader?

This thing you've got going with Jax, its deeper than you ever meant it to be. What started off as lust and secrecy has turned into something messier. Something heavier. You'd never say it out loud, not yet. And definetley not to him. But in your heart, you know the truth. On your side, this isn't just an affair anymore. This is...love.

It's been almost a year since you first met Jax at the diner. Almost a year since he had you pinned up against that dirty wall, fucking you so good it rewired something inside you.

You knew it was wrong, even then. He's got a wife, two boys, a whole life that doesn't belong to you, has no fucking room for you. But that didn't stop you, and it still doesn't. There's something about him, raw, dangerous and addictive that keeps pulling you back. No matter how much you tell yourself to walk away, to stop these secret little meetings, but you cant. Because all you crave is more. More of his hands. More of his voice. More of that fucked up, all consuming high that only he can give you. Not even just the sexual parts, the deep emotional parts that he lets you see, lets you in on.

You hated this part.

The waiting, the silence. The pretending you didn't care that he hadn't messaged you all day. That he could go hours, sometimes longer without acknowledging you, without checking in.

So you drank.

Not to forget him, not really. Just enough to dull the edge. Enough to stop wondering if he thought about you when he laid down next to her at night. Maybe it was the third drink that made you do it, or maybe it was the loneliness. But either way, you stopped over thinking.

You slipped your tee off, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. You keep the main light in your bedroom off, but the soft glow of your fairy lights stay on, casting just enough warmth across your skin.

You crawl onto your bed slowly, facing the mirror. You knew exactly how he liked you. On your knees, back arched deep, ass high like you were begging without saying a word. So that's exactly how you posed. One hand steadying yourself against the sheets, the other lifting your phone, getting the perfect angle.

You took the photo, no filter, no caption sent with it. Deep down, you knew it wasn't just for him. It was for you too. A quiet, dangerous 'fuck you' in the form of a nude, no words needed.

Because if he was going to ignore you all day, you'd give him something he couldn't ignore.

[Text thread y/n & Jax - Friday 21:34PM]

JAX: What the fuck are you doing You sent that and she's in the fucking room My phone lit up right in front of her ?

JAX: One second different and this whole thing would've been over

Y/N: kinda the point jax maybe if u fuckin remembered I existed I wouldn't have to do stupid shit

JAX: Dont do this you think this is how you get my attention think ur being smart?

Y/N: Dnt care im drunk and tired and sick of being ur fuckin secret

JAX: You need to shut your mouth before u say something you can't take back

Y/N: You gonna make me u

Y/N: u think im scared of you

JAX: what the fuck is wrong with you?

Y/N: u :)

JAX: Keep talkin like that You think this is all about u like I’m not hanging on by a fucking thread tryna keep this shit together ?

Y/N: no I think u go home to ur wife and kids and I sit here like a fuckin idiot thinking shit will change lol

JAX: I’m doing everything to keep this from blowin up. Protecting myself and you And this is what ur doing? textin me cause ur drunk and feel ignored ?

Y/N: I don’t need protecting what am I? a child??? I wanted u to give a fuck for once

JAX: ur fucking impossible y/n You knew what this was before it even started u don’t get to act like the victim now

Y/N: victim lmaoo r u fucking joking?

JAX: y/n do you not get that Tara could have seen that pic

Y/N: And???? you don’t give a fuck when ur cocks in me what’s the difference U didn’t even say if you liked it? Did I make you hard??

JAX: Im not doing this over text Meet me at the lot 30 mins

Y/N: no lol Too drunk to drive

JAX: I’ve got the van I’ll come get u

Y/N: No just come here and we can talk

JAX: Nah Dont wanna come inside

Y/N: Lmao heard that one before

JAX: Just be fucking ready when I pull up Leavin in 10

He deletes the entire thread. Every word. Every picture. Wipes it clean like it never happened. Like he didn’t just blow up on you for almost exposing every fucking thing.

He walks down the hallway, grabbing his kutte from the hook and slides it back on, snatching the van keys without hesitation.

“Where are you going?” Tara’s voice cuts through the quiet as she pokes her head out of the boys room, eyebrows creased.

“Club shit. Important” he says, so fucking cold. No pause, no eye contact. Just lies through his fucking teeth, already halfway out the door before she can ask anything else.

The whole drive to your place he’s pacing in his own head. Trying to figure out what the fuck he’s even doing, what he should say to you, what he shouldn’t. He knows this whole thing is wrong, every single part of it is absolutely fucked.

But these feelings he’s grown for you?

These deep, unshakeable feelings that dig under his skin?

They feel dangerously right.

And when you finally walk out of your apartment, slower than usual, your body still buzzing with alcohol but your eyes all fury. He doesn’t know what the fuck to say.

You climb into the passenger seat without saying a word. He drives, silent, tense. Every second dragging.

He pulls into the usual underground lot then cuts the engine. The silence hangs between you for a breath, until you speak up first.

“You ever gonna leave her?”

Till it’s gone pt 1 starts right here.

[boy222god]

Stuck on You.

"I still want you." | What's done is done, but feelings will always linger

➥ word count: 910 ✧ angst

Hollis's eyes noticed you before you even knew of his existence in the same room.

You were tucked into the edge of it— backlit, half-obscured, laughing with your whole face like the dull aching was something that never existed in your world. That smile, the one that folded near your eyes and softened the corners of your mouth; he used to chase that look like salvation. Though, when furthering the idea a bit longer than he should have, Hollis could still say he would... If you let him. The way the light caught in your hair made you look untouchable. Almost ethereal. As if you'd been dipped in something gold and warm, only to be pulled away from him again.

Everything about you looked divine and that was an issue. THE issue.

He should've left the second he laid eyes on you. Should've turned on his heel, found something stronger to drink, pretended the city you both shared hadn't forced you to become a ghost that would continuously haunt him. But instead, he stayed— arms folded, chest hollow, gaze locked like his ribs might collapse under the weight of rushing memories.

Someone bumped his shoulder as they passed. He didn't blink nor make the efforts to even make a sound to show displeasure in the lack of manners.

You still hadn't seen him. Not yet.

Something Hollis made note of a long time ago that you were good at doing— pretending him or anyone who brought dissatisfaction never existed. Complete strangers again. Although, with Hollis, he wondered how you could. Pretend that you never curled into him just to feel safe, never murmured his name like it meant something sacred in the dark.

And you laughed again.

Louder this time.

Like the air was lighter now that he wasn't apart of it.

God, he hated how it tore such a raw wound within...

"She's gonna kill you if you keep looking at her like that," Came the sound of Nate's voice, dry and quiet beside Hollis.

At first, he didn't answer. Continuing his burning gaze towards your direction, as if doing so could possibly make you notice or maybe, just maybe, freeze the lame afterparty's mid-breathe.

"She doesn't know," Nate added, a little softer now, "You can't hold her responsible for something you never said out loud."

"That's what makes it worse." Hollis muttered. A bitter truth that had been tucked so perfectly behind clenched teeth. Because you were never aware of how many versions of yourself that he had met in countless dreams. No clue that he still thinks of the way your voice dipped whenever you would say his name— like it was a secret yet a sin within one. Or that you lived in every space between every song, every silence that graced him, every stretch of time he tried to fill with anything that wasn't you nor tied to you.

"Then tell her."

Hollis wouldn't. He never does. He just... Waits. Not for hope, but for a crack in your facade. Something to suggest that you too do remember the moments shared in the past. And maybe, he did it out of ego. Pride? Something he wasn't entirely sure of or simply didn't want to acknowledge fully. Regardless, for a moment, he thinks the universe flinches.

Your soft gaze flickers across the room, landing on him. Barely. A glance. A pinprick of recognition. Maybe not. He tells himself it meant something just to stay upright.

Though, he did notice your smile wavering; almost imperceptibly. And then you're gone again. Swallowed whole by someone else's story.

Later, he finds you in the kitchen.

Half a drink in hand. Head bobbing slightly to the thud of music leaking from the living room. You looked... Peaceful. As if there wasn't a single part of you bracing to see him.

So unlike the version of you that used to trace the veins in his wrist with your thumb just to feel his pulse. Sometimes that lone, delicate finger of yours would find itself near his lips to which you never hesitated to trace the outline of that as well before leaning in to share such a kiss that he always found left him in shambles. That version is gone. He's aware. Still, he speaks:

"You always look like you're somewhere else."

You turn— a flicker of surprise at the sound of his voice. Once recognizing who was speaking, your facial expression eased into one of aiming to be careful. The one you wear like armor when it comes to him.

"Hollis."

His name, on your lips. Unsoft. Unrecognizable. It lands like a bruise.

"I still think about you." He shares. Not fragile nor forced. Just... Tired. "Still want you. And I can admit that it's exhausting."

Something shifts behind your eyes. Not enough to reach his attention. Not enough to undo anything that could patch what happened in the past up. But it's there— that slow, ghosting ache he used to read like a scripture on your skin.

You murmur, "I didn't know.". Almost like regret. Almost.

Hollis nods once, like that's enough even though you're aware it isn't

Before he can speak again, someone calls your name and like always... You go.

Disappearing into noise and warmth and everything that isn't him.

As for Hollis?

He stays in place— aching in all the places your absence now lives. Hoping, foolishly, you'd turn back.

But you don't.

You never do.

© boy222god 2025 all rights reserved - please do not repost my work on other platforms or translate.

[cheesus-doodles]

For yandere bff Rindou, has bestie met the rest of Tenjiku? We know that Izana and Kakucho met her already and she is very easily strung along with whatever requests they make of her usually. What does the rest of Tenjiku think of her? Did she just show up to one of the meetings with the red jacket Izana gave her and Rindou simultaneously wanted to cry and scream?

heya! i've seen your other asks, will get round to answering them soon as well hehe

Rindo's Birthday Fic | Yan BFF Rindo Fics & Asks

Masterlist

‎

Hmmm the answer is yes and no. Two parts really to this question.

One, Rindo himself would never let you meet any of Tenjiku. Wouldn't be able to call himself your BFF and personal protector if he did honestly. Hell he wouldn't want to let you meet Ran, but unfortunately the two Haitanis kinda live together. As long as Ran doesn't breathe dirty at you, Rindo will "turn a blind eye", or so he likes to convince himself. Ran honestly just lets Rindo do what he wants because he finds the two of you cute together and it's a right hassle to have to beat his younger brother up. With regards to the rest of Tenjiku, even though Rindo himself might be one of the S-62 generation, but he knows what kind of absolute scum the rest are. Doesn't like Mochi, doesn't like Muto, and he especially doesn't like Shion, not when it comes to being around you.

‎

But then there's Izana of course, which is part two.

Izana doesn't care about the opinions of anyone except himself, even more so Tenjiku-era Izzy. And that includes the protests from your BFF Rindo when Izzy unexpectedly drops by to look for you to hang out with him - Izana only acknowledges the Haitani’s existence in the slightest because of how much you rely on and listen to your BFF. Bascially needs to keep Rindo in line to have you stick around, but Izzy isn’t scared to make his displeasure known when he thinks Rindo is stepping out of line.

Izana will most likely will end up inviting you to one of the gang meetings, not because he wants you to get involved with his gang activities, but more so because it’s convenient for him and he wants to see you now. Of course doesn’t tell Rindo, and instructs you not to tell him either, saying that he wants it to be a “surprise” for your “BFF”. You obviously eat up his words without a second thought. Rindo no doubt has gone to great lengths to hide the red jacket that Izana had given you earlier (can’t throw it because he doesn’t want to get in trouble with the notoriously short-tempered Tenjiku President), but you still somehow find it when Izzy tells you to turn up in it.

‎

With the exception of Kakucho obviously (clear bias that Izzy refuses to acknowledge and still thinks the two of you look cuter together than you and Rindo), he wouldn’t go out of his way to introduce you to any of the other Tenjiku members. Sees them as below him and therefore unworthy of your attention or notice. All you needed was to pay attention to him.

The other three Heavenly Kings are left clueless as to who this rando is that turned up at their gang meeting wearing a Tenjiku uniform, excitedly waving at Izana who simply pats the area next to him and then goes on with the meeting like usual. Even more surprised when it’s Rindo of all people that took a double take at your presence and almost seemed to have a heart attack - this baby boy definitely fighting back the tears the entire meeting because what the actual fuck are you doing here? And how did you find that jacket?

Izzy almost daring Rindo to say something so that he can beat him up again, but this Haitani thankfully has the two braincells left needed to know that this wasn’t the right place or time. Takes everything in Rindo not to have a complete meltdown there and then, Ran holding on to the back of Rindo's uniform just in case the younger of the two snaps and makes a hasty decision.

The rest of Tenjiku doesn’t really know what to think of you tbh. On one hand you seem awfully close to their President, which was strange in and of itself, and Izana didn’t even seem to mind, happy to be huddled up to you and wanting all of your attention on him, almost domestic. On the other hand the white-haired boy was acting even more volatile, not even thinking twice bringing his leg swinging down on anyone that he thought might catch your attention or was looking funny at you. If he wasn’t beating them up then Kakucho certainly was.

‎

Shion is jealous to say the least, and is already plotting on how to get you out of the picture. Muto and Mochi are definitely intrigued by your presence, though these two know better than to ask directly, rather they will take their time to poke around and ask, maybe even bribe Ran for the details with a box of his favorite pastries. The rest of the members simply opt to turn a blind eye to the whole situation - if their President doesn't see anything wrong with having a stranger, then who were they to argue?

[ultfreakme]

I can't believe I'm saying this. It burns me to say this. But holy fuck the people were right Sakura is annoying. It takes very little to convince me to like a female character and far too much to make me get anywhere near dislike. I don't think I've ever.....actively hated a female character. Ever. I've watched a lot of shonen anime and often, the female characters are not treated well but I've never once looked at a character and gone "you're hopeless". (I watched Fairy Tail for a solid 3 years and read the manga, and all my faves were the girls).

Every one of them had something.

I thought I'd walk away from Naruto liking Sakura and seeing her potential but she just. Sucks. This is not the first time I've engaged with a story with badly written female characters. I used to watch Supernatural and Teen Wolf for god's sake.

Usually, sexist writing leads to underdeveloped female characters for whom obvious plots go unaddressed. This frustration and general lack of involvement in plot + audience misogyny often leads to female characters being hated. But personally, none of these have ever made me hate them because when writers write them, regardless of future exploration, they are written to be likeable.

They don't WANT you to hate the character, so they are given base-level compelling motives and personality traits, shallow as they may be.

Sakura through and through is written like we're supposed to hate her. Naruto as a show is so focused on empathy. Talk No Jutsu might be boring and often misses the point, but it exists to emphasize Naruto's ability to reach out. The show's all about friendship, camaraderie, and loyalty to one another. Sakura is none of those things.

I truly began hating her when Five Kage Summit happened because of two things:

Her confession to Naruto

The way she talks about her feelings towards Sasuke

In both these cases, she seems to think she has both of them all figured out and centers herself, start to finish. She makes that fake confession to Naruto because she took Sai's word for why Naruto was doing it. Shizune said Naruto was doing it for Sasuke and not because of her, Sai doesn't KNOW any of them on a deeper level, and Naruto's her teammate who she's known for a while.

Yet she went with "oh he's just doing it for me". And okay fine I can sorta forgive it. But the confession itself was so shallow. She sounded like she was trying to be sincere but all she could talk about was how Naruto was a hero worthy of acknowledgement now that he had proven himself through achieving an impossible feat. She's confirming all of Naruto's worst fears and the source of his anger while thinking she understands him. She was spinning her actual thoughts regarding him into a love confession- and her actual thoughts are she thought he was a fool who knew nothing but is cool now because he's gained status.

Then with Sasuke, she gets a whole episode dedicated to thinking about him as she chased him down. I thought we might finally know why she was so dedicated to him.

The answer, in canon, as Sakura herself says is because she thought he was hot and cool. When she looked past it, all she saw was "darkness" that disgusted her. She thinks Naruto is trying to beat the darkness out of him. The only thing she sees in Sasuke is his physical appearance, which she likes, and this nebulous "darkness" which does not even want to try to understand.

She doesn't remember his kindness, his smile, his empathy, his willingness to put his life on the line for those he treasures. None of it, even though she was there to witness most of this.

She so hilariously and embarrassingly misunderstands both of her teammates who she apparently cherishes with such blind confidence it's hilarious. She's WRITTEN, INTENTIONALLY, to be shallow as fuck and uncaring for either of her teammates true feelings. She makes an assumption and runs with it, with zero urges to examine it.

She doesn't ask about Itachi when Naruto said the name in front of her during the bridge scene, she's not curious about him, she never initiates in trying to discern the situation. The person she evolves into in the future is also disgusting to me. Like she's such a nothing-burger of a character who exists to highlight Naruto & Sasuke's bond by showing how distant she is to either of them.

And this is not because of combat strength. Sasuke has openly expressed his dislike towards her because she has no spine. She says she'll kill whoever as a 12 year old on Sasuke's request. And she's exactly the fucking same when she hits 16. He hates liars and people with no conviction. Sasuke values strength but he also values integrity, intellect and tenacity. Karin is objectively far weaker than Sakura and he respects her. Same for Cat Baa-Chan and a lot of other characters. It genuinely doesn't take much to gain, at the very least, Sasuke's fundamental respect. Just believe in something and don't fucking breach his boundaries.

Sakura is so dismissive of his trauma and is wet noodle of a person with no ideology or goal beyond him, of fucking course he's annoyed by her.

idk her character is so fucking annoying after a point

[kadwrites]

the color green | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you've met tommy's secretary , who has a thing for him.

warnings ; mentions of death (no one dies), my bad writing?? probably typos, arranged marriage trope

a/n ; um idk what to think of this part but lmk what you think of it

-

he just looks back at you, his brow raised ,waiting for an explanation

"what?"

"what did ya say to 'er?"

"nothing, why ? what did she tell you?" you can't help the amused expression on your face, you did try to hold it back.

"she said you and polly cornered 'er"

"what" you let out a small laugh "all we did was speak to 'er, and it was mostly polly. she barely acknowledged me."

"really?"

"yes really."

"did ya tell 'er that we're engaged?" his voice was deep and cold. it sent a familiar chill down your spine.

"why ? did ya not want people to know?"

"answer the question"

"i didn't. polly did." you stare at him for a while, eyes tracing his face with a raised brow "are you fucking 'er?"

he blinks slowly, his demeanor doesn't change "i beg your fucking pardon?"

"ya heard me."

"no."

you study his face "we didn't say anything to 'er, polly asked 'er if she knew who i was, she looked me up and down like i was some whore and then almost cried when she found out you and i are engaged. thats it."

"we're not engaged yet."

"we are, according to your aunt. so if ya 'ave any fucking complaints , ya might want to take it up with 'er."

you try to walk past him, deciding that storming off is the best way out of this ,

"and how do ya think youre gettin' back home? polly is gone"

you freeze, stopping in place when you hear that, and he turns, just staring at your back.

"walking exists , ya know?" you turn as well to face him, you try to maintain the most confident expression you could muster

"you're gonna walk back? to your father's house? at this time?"

you just nod,

"no you're not"

"yes i am."

"no."

"why not?"

"what kind if fiancé would i be if i let ya walk home in the dark?." his voice is sarcastic

you just raise your brow again, "i thought we weren't engaged."

"go to my office, i'll drive ya home in a minute."

"ya don't 'ave to, i don't want your charity."

"go to my fucking office, y/n."

you mumble curses under your breath as you stride through and to his office, you open the glass door and plop down on the chair facing his desk. you can see the sectary's silhouette from the corner of your eyes. she's sitting on a desk outside his office and you walked by without sparing her a glance. you can feel her stare burn through you.

the door opens again and he walks in, and sits on his desk

"are we goin' to stay here long? cause i can call oliver to come and get me."

he looked up from the papers he was holding and his stare made you look away. okay maybe you'll let him drive you home.

the secretary knocks and walks in "i just need your signature on this form sir." she walks to his desk and gets as close as appropriately possible.

" y've met my fiancée then, miss carter?" he asks the secretary without looking at her

"i.." she stands straight and glances at you "i did , yes i did."

he looks up at her briefly "she might be comin' here more often now, so please make 'er feel at home whenever im not around."

"of course, sir." she smiles sweetly at him before grabbing the paper and walking out of the office.

you raise your brows, a small smirk on your lips "oh im your fiancée now , aye?"

he doesn't answer you, but you see the corners of his lips curl.

you stifle back a yawn as you sit on the sofa , trying to not to nod off. its the middle of the night and your brother had woken you up. safe to say tonight was not a night you've expected and its yet to end.

"how did ya even know about this?" you nod towards abraham who had a cup of tea in his hand

"mum called" he muttered as he handed you a cup as well

"its just a cold , ya know that? , ya didn't 'ave to leave anna and come all the way here."

"it's dad, i couldn't just sleep after 'earing mum cry about 'im"

"she cries about everything" you say with a sigh as you take a sip of your tea

the living room as dark except for a small lamp that was next to you

"did she call celest and oliver?"

"i think so, but they'll probably come by in the mornin'."

you hear your mothers sniffles as she leaves her and your father's bedroom.

"hes asking for you."

you and abraham look at each other before you put your tea cup down and get up from the sofa.

"come in"

you walk in and close the door behind you gently. your dad is propped up with a pillow behind him, you approach the bed and get on it, laying next to him

"ya better not give me another one of your speeches dad." you feign annoyance but your smile gives you away.

he lets out a laugh then turns to you "i'm an old man ya know, i 'ave to make sure i say everything i need to say before i leave ya."

"y've got a cold dad, its not the plaque " you chuckle as you turn to look at him too.

when you were a child, your father would never sleep if you got sick, he would stay up. sometimes fall asleep beside you, or on the uncomfortable hard wooden chair he'd drag next to your bed.

he would put his head on your heart sometimes late at night anxiously, scared it might've stopped when he accidentally drifted off to sleep.

"listen to me love..." his hands intertwine with yours, his hands calloused from all the days he's spent caring for the soil, or in the war that you never thought would end. "i need to talk about this."

you hum, your hand holding his tightly in yours.

"i'm sorry it had to come to this my love,"

its not another one of his speeches, its a different kind of speech.

"dad..."

"when your mother first told me about this, i thought she was jokin, honest to god" he lets out another laugh "but now..... when i think about it , i cant let ya do that to yerself love..." he shakes his head slightly,

"what?" your eyes look up at him, taking in his features , his dark under eyes, the lines on his face, around his eyes.

"i saved some money yeah? , for when me and your mother might need it. ya can 'ave it." his voice drops to a lower tone

"and do what ?"

"run away."

"run away?" you laugh softly, looking at him with a raised brow "and go where?"

"where ever you want." he smiles softly at you

"you're not serious."

"i am"

you stay silent for a while, processing what he's saying "im not runnin' away dad."

"so you're gonna marry tommy shelby? is that what ya want ? what ya truly want?"

"its what i need to do"

"ya don't"

"so you're gonna go back on your word ,aye? ya gave the man a word after all"

"for you , id break every promise ive ever made."

"dad..." you let out a small smile , his other hand goes to cup your face "i cant do that"

"are ya scared id hate ya? or that id be angry at ya if ya didn't?"

"i cant runaway dad... i cant leave ya" your emotions betray you and they flood through you, your tears start to drop. i cant not be here when you die, when you're buried.

"sometimes i cant believe you're all grown up now,"

"hmm"

"ya were such a lively child"

"you're sayin' im borin' now aye?"

you two share a small laugh, you turn your face and kiss his palm, before closing your eyes "id put myself through anything and everything to keep ya with me for however long i can."

-

@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited

[dalliancekay]

"There is no 'our side', Crowley!"

Was Aziraphale happy to have Armageddon coming? No. They tried to influence the Antichrist. But had the wrong boy. Then they tried to think of how to find the real one and in that short time - what? Kill him? Talk to him? They had no idea what the kid is like (WE DID). What powers he has, what worldviews. What personality.

The Great Plan. It is coming to its fulfilment. It is written. The War is about to begin. Heaven and Hell. The big one. They both know this. It's not something they can just stop believing in. They had their Arrangement, their side (sort of), and they managed not to get caught. But now? Now Aziraphale is right here. There is no OUR SIDE, NOT ANYMORE. There might have been a moment in their existence on Earth (about 12 hundred years?) when they could feel like/pretend they are having their own side. That it does not matter whether they are an angel or a demon. But now the full reality of their existence is back. What there is, is Heaven and Hell and they are preparing for War. They have no interest in Earth. Aziraphale and Crowley are tiny pawns in a very big picture. They both belong to their respective sides. They always have. Even when they found ways to work together. (Mostly cos their sides are conceited bunch of idiots, both.)

And so Aziraphale decided for one more desperate attempt to get God to see how the whole thing can be avoided. After all, so did Crowley. He too tried to talk to her. Does Aziraphale think She might understand? We don't know. Does he look full of hope as he walks back to his shop? He doesn't.

He gets broken up with again by Crowley who nonsensically (and yes, romantically, sure) wants to go to another star - to do what? Wait till the end of universe reaches them? (Why is everybody always defending Crowley? And act like he's being reasonable there? And blame Aziraphale for hurting him?) And then Aziraphale gets punched in the stomach. By a fellow angel. And told by Metatron to not be a bloody fool and report for service as the good angel he surely is.

And he gets discorporated. Which looks like it really sucks.

And then he DESERTS the War AND Heaven (that he apparently still has faith in etc etc...) and goes on a limb to find the boy and just see if he can come up with something. Anything. Thinking Crowley is gone. Packed his stuff and left.

Because Aziraphale feels the War and ending of the world is an injustice. Written or not. Great Plan or not. Maybe he didn't think at first he could make any difference but Crowley showed him it's worth considering it. Crowley is always showing Aziraphale that things can be questioned. Whether they can be changed is up in the air, but questioned, sure. It didn't take Aziraphale long at all to reconsider letting things just play out as they were written, and instead fight to the last breath he doesn't need, for Earth instead. The conditioning he needs to fight isn't that Heaven is good and right. The conditioning he needs to fight is that things can't be changed. That it is all written out. That he is a nobody and can't influence anything. Aziraphale's biggest fight and learning curve is in having faith in himself. So. Much like he felt it was unfair to leave the first humans unprotected and how he felt killing Job's kids was cruel, he disobeys and does his own thing again. He learns he can. But all this comes at a cost. To himself (thinking he will Fall for these things) but also to his beloved - and THAT is much harder for him. He would never want to put Crowley in danger. And he does. Every time they meet. The guilt he must feel for this.

Aziraphale lives between two sides. And they are both awful. And he is often misunderstood for just acknowledging this as reality he and everything else exists in.

I think his view of his reality is pretty accurate. There is no our side. They wanted one. But they can't leave their sides. Even after S1 they couldn't. Not really. And they both knew it. They were still afraid, still on edge. And no, he is not in clutches of Heaven or sometimes reverts to their indoctrination or anything like that. He goes along with Heaven as far as he MUST. And SO DOES CROWLEY. Aziraphale's life alongside his demon, however tentative, was always precious to him. But.

Crowley who showed him how to keep questioning things, try to make them better, didn't see it his way and left.

Aziraphale has to do the best he can and just do something. Anything. He can not just do nothing. He can not, not try and run. Or hide. Or wait some more. Crowley showed him that things can be different and Aziraphale had to do everything to try and make it better. And he will. And Crowley will help. He always does.

Is Aziraphale always right? No. Does he make mistakes? Yes. I am never saying Aziraphale is faultless - but I think many things he is blamed for are not right. And I also think Crowley is often seen as can do no wrong. Everything he says is right. 100% correct. The right things to do. He knows more. Understands more. If he disagrees with Aziraphale than it follows that Aziraphale is wrong. That's not true. They are both beautifully rounded, full, flawed characters I love. They complement each other in ways I bet I have not even noticed yet. And they are their own beings too. They don't only exist for one another.

[mightydyke]

The way that Paul Shapera presents love in The Puppetshade Chronicles, specifically the second album, is so fascinating to me.

You have Jes, who declares "love is perfect, love is all" before shooting the girl she loves at the end of the first album, claiming it's the only way to prevent Jenna suffering and betraying her. At the end of the second album, she kills Molly after finding out that she wasn't tortured into betraying her but actually wanted to abolish the monarchy of her own volition. Jes claims "now the girl I love is gone". To me, it seems like Jes has such an idealised view of love that anything that doesn't live up to her perfect expectations must be eradicated. It fits with her character, being a princess who's used to getting what she wants and views anything inconvenient to her as unacceptable. But before she kills Molly, she hesitates and changes her mind multiple times, almost like her view of love is shattering as she realises that it isn't perfect, that it doesn't guarante that there will be no conflict between people who love each other.

This is even more interesting compared to Paisley Piper's view of love. She thinks that love is painful and maddening. She says that love can be sweet, but ultimately it will entice you and drive you crazy. And yet at the end of the album she decides to go and rescue her love. Entirely the opposite to Jes, she acknowledges the pain caused by love and how it's far from perfect, but decides to help the person she loves.

Then you have Oki, who seems entirely dissilusioned with love (and every aspect of existence), saying that his friend Jeza said "love was just a fleeting treat, illusion to me now." He's clearly been caused a lot of pain by love and is definitely going through a sadistic phase, but seems to genuinely love the other Puppetshades.

And all this just makes me wonder how Jenna, L3X and Yery will think of love now. Jenna has been betrayed by a person who claimed to love her, L3X loves Jenna but her love makes him feel guilty, Yery has had the person he loved most killed. They've all seen people they love murdered. And then there's Cobalt Rose, who can almost be seen as a metaphor for how people who are loves live on in the memories of those who loved them. I think love is such a fascinating driving force and motivation behind this story and I can't wait to see how this theme develops.

[brightvelvet]

Been think abt Halbrand again. Dude is so gross, covered in dirt and grime, and yet who would he be without it? Halbrand's authenticity DOES come from his appearance. Look at this dude!

A bloody, gross little man. Hair unwashed and covered in ash from the forge. He needs to be dirty though. The dirt is another layer of his disguise! This skrunkly dirt rag of an appearance does several things for Sauron.

1. He's unconcerned with what people think of him.

2. He's a busy guy.

3.He understands the value of struggle.

4.He's not a threat to Galadriel.

To explain a little more, the grime is form of connection between Halbrand and his surroundings. Halbrand isn't trying to get attention on first impression, in fact the grime tells people that he's not trying to be noticed at all. Therefore, when people interact with him, such as the guild members in Numenor, they immediately assume they have the upper hand in confrontation with him. His looks say, "I don't have the time to think about how I look, much less to think about your opinion of me.". It's super effective.

The grime also tells a physical story of how Halbrand interacts with his environment. He doesn't look like a thinker, he looks like someone whose to busy moving to stop and think. When we don't see him on camera, we assume he's off getting his hands dirty somewhere because he's always covered in crap. He's not a plotter like the obvious example of Miriel's advisor, sitting clean and majestic at the market. Halbrand is a dirty, rowdy boy, and actions speak louder than words when it comes to appearances.

Once people are smacked with the ~virtousness~ of kingly and responsible Halbrand (after a few meetings of warming up), his grime takes on a new meaning. At first impression he's a working man, but now combined with his sad backstory and self-sacrifical tendencies where Galadriel is concerned, the grime becomes a political connection to his humanity. This walking dust mound is actually just too humble! Everyone jumps from the guilt of misreading this guy on first impression to immediately respecting him out of self-recrimination. It's so sneaky!

Lastly, and arguably most important, Sauron is humbing himself for Galadriel. Their relationship is freakishly complex on several levels but it boils down to this-- he wants her support at least for the moment. And for all that Galadriel is a tough nut to crack, her weakness for hard workers is an easy role for Sauron to emulate. A mortal low man who fights and believes for a larger system of order is vulnerable enough for Galadriel not to be defensive against but similar enough to her own story that she would reciprocate his ideas. His disgusting coat of mortal elements versus her timeless and otherworldy appearance. What a match! The grime is its own story for Galadriel, one she can look at and reread Halbrand's struggles and continuous hope in.

Which brings us to squeaky-clean Halbrand:

What a goon. What a poncy looking airbag. Halbrand isn't connecting with his environment here, isn't telling a story. This is simply just a face. The tells and appearance that made Sauron Halbrand are gone. And this gives a new meaning to the scene.

Sauron's not trying to connect to or sway Galadriel's allegiance here. He's not even making an argument for her to join him at this point. He's instead dropping a revelation on her. Halbrand's worse than dead.

He never existed at all.

I made him for you so I win.

Acknowledge your loss, and admit the significance that we both found meaning in him.

What. A. Shithead!

[idaisyy]

Tag , you’re in - a cmpunk x oc enimies to lovers

-Chapter 45

The silence was unbearable.

Daisy slid into the driver's seat without a word, adjusting her mirrors and gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping her together. Punk sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before getting into the passenger seat.

He shut the door, glancing at her. "I can drive," he offered.

Nothing.

"Daisy." His voice was softer this time, almost pleading. "Come on, you've been wrestling all night. You gotta be tired. Just let me drive—"

Still nothing. She started the car, eyes fixed on the road ahead, her expression unreadable.

Punk let out a frustrated breath and leaned back against the seat, drumming his fingers on his thigh. "So that's how it's gonna be, huh? You just gonna pretend I don't exist?"

Daisy remained silent, shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the parking lot.

Punk let his head fall back against the seat, staring at the ceiling. "Jesus, you're stubborn."

No response.

The minutes passed in silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional movement from Punk shifting in his seat. He exhaled sharply, glancing over at her. "You won't even let me drive?"

Still nothing.

"Because it's my birthday, right?" he muttered, more to himself than her. "Even though I was a complete dick, you're still making sure I don't have to drive."

Daisy's hands tightened slightly on the wheel, but she didn't say a word.

Punk closed his eyes and sighed, feeling that awful, gnawing guilt settle deeper in his chest. He had messed up. Bad. And now, he had to sit in this car for hours, trapped in the silence, with nothing to do but face the fact that he had hurt her worse than he realized.

Punk sat in the passenger seat, the unopened gift bag at his feet catching his attention. He hesitated for a moment before reaching down and grabbing it.

With a quiet sigh, he pulled out the first item—a vintage wrestling magazine, one of his favorites from when he was a kid. He stared at it for a long moment, flipping through the pages. His chest tightened.

"Where the hell did you even find this?" he muttered, mostly to himself.

Daisy didn't answer. She just kept her eyes on the road, her expression unreadable.

Punk swallowed hard and reached for the next gift. A black hoodie with a design he'd once pointed out months ago, thinking she wasn't even listening., she had and remembered

The next was a shirt with an old wrestling promotion he loved when he was a kid

And at the bottom of the bag, a handwritten note in Daisy's slightly messy but familiar handwriting.

He hesitated before unfolding it.

"Happy Birthday, Punk. Even when you piss me off, I still wanted today to feel special for you. You deserve that, even if you don't think you do."

Punk's grip tightened on the paper. His throat felt tight.

He turned to her, still holding the note. "Daisy—"

Nothing.

She just kept driving, her posture stiff, refusing to acknowledge him.

Punk exhaled sharply and ran a hand down his face, guilt settling deep in his gut. She had done all of this—gone out of her way to make him feel special—even after he had said some of the worst things to her.

And now she wouldn't even look at him.

For once, he didn't blame her.

Punk let out an exaggerated sigh, slouching further in his seat as he glanced at Daisy, who remained stubbornly focused on the road. He could see her jaw set tight, her hands gripping the steering wheel just a little too hard.

"You know," he started, his voice casual but laced with underlying frustration, "I only turn 26 once."

Silence.

Punk rolled his eyes. "I mean, I don't ask for much. A little 'Happy Birthday, Punk' doesn't seem like it would kill you."

Nothing. Not even a glance in his direction.

He huffed, leaning his head back. "You went through all that trouble decorating the locker room, getting me gifts, and now you won't even say it? That's actually insane."

Daisy's expression didn't change.

He knew he was going to have to make her laugh to break her and make her speak to him

Punk exhaled, tilting his head toward her. "Daze... come on. I know I was a dick, okay? I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But do you really hate me so much right now that you won't even say it?"

She finally glanced at him, just for a second, before looking back at the road.

"Wow," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're really gonna do me like this on my birthday? What if I just drop dead right now? What if this is my last birthday ever?"

Daisy's lip twitched like she wanted to smile, but she quickly pressed them together.

Punk narrowed his eyes. "I saw that. I saw that little almost-smile."

She gave him nothing.

Punk groaned dramatically, dragging his hands down his face. "Fine. Be stubborn. But just know, I'm gonna be the most annoying person on the planet until you say it."

Daisy rolled her eyes, still refusing to respond.

Punk grinned, leaning back with his arms crossed. "Oh yeah, you're in for a long ride, sweetheart."

Punk immediately recognized the name flashing on Daisy's phone screen, and his stomach twisted. He knew this wasn't going to be good.

Daisy hesitated before answering, her voice already tinged with exhaustion. "Hey, Mom."

Punk stayed silent, watching her closely as he shifted slightly in his seat.

"I saw you on TV tonight," her mother started, skipping right past any kind of greeting. "I was wondering... are you dating that Punk guy?"

Daisy closed her eyes briefly, gripping the wheel tighter. "Mom, I really don't want to do this right now. I've had a bad day—"

"I didn't ask about your day, Daisy. I asked if you were dating him."

Punk clenched his jaw, already feeling the heat of anger rising in his chest. He knew Daisy's mother never cared about how she felt—never asked, never listened.

Daisy let out a slow breath. "No, I'm not dating him."

"Well, good. I'd hate for you to embarrass yourself more than you already do."

Punk felt his whole body tense. He turned his head sharply, watching Daisy as her face fell.

"You looked ridiculous out there tonight, by the way," her mother continued. "Flailing around, letting that other girl get the best of you. You always make everything so much harder than it needs to be. No wonder you—"

Daisy abruptly hung up.

The silence in the car was suffocating.

Punk stared at her, his hands balled into fists on his lap. Daisy kept her eyes forward, her lips pressed together, her breathing uneven.

After a few seconds, she let out a shaky breath. "Can we just... not talk about it?"

Punk exhaled through his nose, still fuming. But he nodded.

"Yeah, Daze," he said quietly. "We don't have to talk about it."

But he was sure as hell thinking about it. And if he ever met her mother, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from saying something.

Punk sat there, staring out the windshield as Daisy kept her eyes fixed on the road. The weight of everything hung heavy between them, but now, after hearing her mom tear her down like that, he couldn't take the silence anymore.

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face before turning to look at her. "Daze... can you please just talk to me?"

She didn't answer.

Punk exhaled sharply, drumming his fingers against his thigh, trying to find the right words. He sucked at this—apologizing, admitting when he was wrong—but if there was ever a time to try, it was now.

"Look, I'm—fuck," he muttered, shaking his head. He forced himself to just say it. "I'm sorry, alright? For everything. For what I said to you earlier, for how I acted, for being a complete asshole today. I—" He huffed out a breath. "I didn't mean it, any of it."

Daisy stayed quiet, but her fingers twitched on the steering wheel.

Punk ran a hand through his hair, his frustration now directed at himself. "I was just pissed off, and I took it out on you, which was fucked up. And then I saw you with Drew, and I lost my damn mind because—" He stopped himself, biting his tongue before he said too much.

Daisy let out a small scoff, shaking her head. "Because what, Punk?"

He swallowed, gripping his knee. "Because I hated it," he admitted. "Because the thought of you with someone else—especially him—makes me fucking crazy. But that's not an excuse for how I treated you."

Daisy's jaw clenched, her face still set in that heartbreakingly distant expression. "You said some really awful shit to me today."

Punk nodded, guilt pressing down on him. "I know. And I hate myself for it." He turned his body slightly toward her. "I just... I don't want you to hate me. Please, Daze. Just—stop ignoring me."

Daisy was quiet for a long moment, eyes focused on the road, but Punk saw her bottom lip tremble slightly. He wanted to reach for her, to touch her, but he didn't know if she'd let him.

Finally, she let out a slow breath. "I don't hate you, Punk," she admitted, her voice softer now. "But you really hurt me."

Punk felt something twist in his chest. "I know." His voice was rough, honest. "And I'll make it up to you. I swear."

Daisy glanced at him, her walls still up, but something in her softened just a little.

Punk took that as a start.

Daisy gripped the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. "I don't forgive you," she finally said, her voice even but laced with hurt. "Not yet. Because honestly, Punk... it feels like you broke my heart today."

Punk swallowed hard, his stomach sinking. He deserved that. Every bit of it.

She let out a slow breath, fingers tightening on the wheel. "But... I do want to know if your birthday was good. If I made it special for you."

Punk exhaled, his body slumping slightly against the seat. His usual bravado, his sarcasm—none of it was there. Just him. Raw. Honest. "Yeah," he admitted quietly. "You did."

Daisy still wouldn't look at him, but he kept going, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it. "I hate my birthday." He let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Always have. My parents never gave a shit about it. Never did anything for it. No parties, no cake, nothing. Just another day."

Daisy's grip loosened, and she finally turned her head slightly toward him.

Punk looked down at his hands. "I guess at some point, I just stopped caring. Stopped expecting anything. Figured if I ignored it, it wouldn't suck as much." He swallowed, his throat tight. "But then... you did all that for me today." He glanced at her, his voice barely above a whisper. "No one's ever done that for me before, Daisy."

Daisy's expression softened, her lips pressing together. She wanted to stay mad, wanted to keep her walls up, but hearing that—knowing that she had done something for him no one else had ever done—made her heart ache for him.

She didn't say anything, just turned her eyes back to the road. But Punk could see it—the way her shoulders relaxed just a little, the way the tension between them shifted. It wasn't forgiveness, not yet. But it was something.

And for now, he'd take it.

[harbinger-savior-catalyst]

What's your thoughts on melanie and folly after NULLS dialogue dropped??

Idk I've seen some persons theory about them knowing eachother to be confirmed on here. Just curious on what your thoughts are?

oooo, i didnt get a lot of NULL when i was playing last night so i had to read up on the wiki, and OH LORD IS THIS GUY SOMETHING

i am both in love and insanely curious as to why he calls Folly 'the dreamer', it adds some kinda layer to their relationship that i yearn to pick apart like an operation board game.

the balls this guy has to essentially deadname her, not even just around her co-workers, but to the general public if we consider the NPCS are mostly aware of our existence and each others when on the elevator, and you can sense the anger, yet she inevitably gives into what he asks, it's fucking insane, probably the closest another NPC has gotten to learning ANYTHING about how she feels about her past that isn't some kinda 'random emo splurge'. its sad to know that thats all she thinks life is, pain, suffering, anguish, but thats all she knows now, that damn parasite

another half of me wants to read it as understanding and acknowledgement rather than something hes doing out of malice and authority, like there is some sense of understanding that they're both disjointed people, mentally broken and unable to fix themselves to their greatest ability, both striving to become whole again just in different ways.

they're coworkers who, if they sat down with each other and talked like normal people (which they cannot do) would probably have a lot more in common than they'd expect, but i can also see them both standing around toolbox speedway watching people explode or whatever just for the fun of it and having a laugh together if they were both bored. it genuinely, in this situation, really depends on both of their moods and how fast the wind blows

as for melanie...holy fucking shit????? ok. very interesting.

seeing her try to interact at least slightly is very on brand, i love how no matter what she tries to bring the best out of people and herself, even if they don't share or reciprocate it.

rlly interesting to see her memory get fuzzy as soon as the dreamer is mentioned too, yeah. i think the only character who's gone through similar is poob during a conversation WITH melanie, i have a feeling theres something in her brain that is wired to completely block out conversations about her or her past, similar to a trauma response of sorts, but 100% a legitimate software thing in this case bc shes a tv head.

going back to this though, thats absolutely fucking tragic, because the only time that really doesn't happen is in conversations with folly herself, where melanie CAN'T ignore it, has to stare her past right in her face, and desperately wish it was the way it was before as she begs her not to look at her. she'd rather forget all of the good moments she had with her instead of remember and have to deal with who she used to be friends with staring back at her as nothing but a monstrous husk of what she used to be, all caused by trauma she probably has no idea about and could never even attempt to fix.

I LOVE THESE TWO GRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

[rei-ismyname]

X-Comics Weekly Roundup

Week 3

What's good? I reviewed X-Men #17 here! As I said in my last Uncanny review, I'm done with that book and anything that just plods along. Who has the time? I'll say something about every book every week in the roundup, and also choose issues that excite me for a full review. Exceptional X-Men and adjectiveless are in my good books, though the latter is on the edge. But yeah, this is the one stop shop and masterlist for my X-Men comics thing each week. Spoilers for all, including Imperial #1, Ultimate Wolverine, and solicits. To me, my X-books!

Looks great, drags a bit

Ultimate Wolverine #6

Looking good, Yana

The Ultimates #12 changed a lot for the Ultimate line in my book. It was already excellent - as if every time a Marvel event has been disappointing the ideas all went to this universe to multiply - but the books were really taking their time to get out of act 1 and come into focus. Act 3 has always been sitting there, the called shot of The Maker returning after 2 years, but now it's clear that EVERYONE in this prison universe has to fight for freedom. He's the enemy of every person on this planet, even his lackeys, though they probably don't know that. Too busy doing atrocities.

David fucking Haller is dead, the poor kid, but that doesn't mean he's gone. He exists as code for now. It's a really clever usage of him that facilitates a genre shift, maybe. Logan has his own brain back and I have no idea what happens next. Beast is there, Forge and Brand too plus a whole bunch of resistance folks. There's a lot of different directions to take the book from here and I'm pumped for what comes next. It's called Ultimate Wolverine and while he's been present physically we've only seen personality and relationships through others and flashbacks. It's unclear how long the Rasputins and their evil AF authoritarianism had Logan as their Winter Soldier or what he'll do now that he can exercise agency, but there's an insurgency going on. As Logan gets his memory and sense of self back so too does the reader learn details about the strange shape of this world's mutants - deported en masse to Eurasia, familiar faces dead or changed, suffering under the Rasputins' (literal) iron fist.

However, this is the Opposition, the resistance, and it doesn't care what's in your genome. Xavier's nightmare of humans and mutants fighting side by side, against a regime that doesn't care enough to hate or fear them. Everyone here is a winter soldier - will poor Logan even have the space to explore his guilt over being made to kill his friends? Of course he will, but there's still a lot of work to do. Logan tends to interpret guilt as revenge, and the people who hurt him most also made him a lot deadlier. Who am I kidding? He'll want to rescue Jean.

Imperial Chuckwatch

No Chuck in issue #1. Imperial was Chuckless, I repeat Chuckless. Maybe next time. No Cannonball or Sunspot either but I think they're confirmed as not showing up, alas. The issue was very Hickman and liberal with continuity, seemingly MCU-ified in many ways. Doofus Peter Quill, for instance, and characters with movies. The most X-Men thing about it is the Shi'Ar all over the place, with Deathbird getting some great lines and being more competent than usual.

STORM #9

Huh, weird. Storm is in jail. She got arrested last issue, so it's not entirely unexpected, but the whole aliens/FBI thing continues to be bizarre. They put her in rags in a shitty cell but she gets a phone call! Alas, She-Hulk is busy at the fighting tournament taking place in Ro's house. Apparently DOOM wanted this? LOL! It's great to see acknowledgement that DOOM runs the world but why would he want Ororo imprisoned for helping Xavier escape? DOOM should go catch Chuck himself, I'd pay to see it. I think I'm coming around on the banquet Ayodele is cooking, just the sheer amount of courses overwhelmed me.

Hold up! Arakko is in the house, literally. Is that Isca the Unbeatable? I think it is. Uh, Lactuta the Knower (who famously DGAF about trivial things.) I know that's Jon Ironfire. Callisto is chilling. It's the Morlocks/Arakki crossover I've been waiting for! It's a shame they have no lines or anything, but I'll take what I can get. What are the odds of a Craig of NASA cameo I wonder? Is Blue Marvel the referee? Fuck, I love all these black characters that rarely get used. I've come around on the fighting tournament at Storm's house. Jude Jones put forward an insightful rubric about the reality of a black creator using black characters in a white supremacist world. I'll link here instead of paraphrasing further, as I'm not black, though I will refer to it. I feel the tension between wanting Ayodele/Storm to succeed and feeling overwhelmed by the impressionistic deluge of threads. I too find Ororo's voice absent and am certainly glad it's showing up re: Eternity, but there's so many plots going on! Honestly I kinda wish the cosmic god nonsense was removed and Storm's community focused on heavily. That's the stuff I'm enjoying and honestly, 'gods you've never heard of are doing a thing' is a bit of a dry well. Ororo ends the issue vowing to kill Eternity for joyriding her body, which - sure Storm kills now, fine - isn't Eternity the universe? All of existence? Sigh, it's been killed before by randos, why not Storm? It makes at least as much sense as Eternity deciding it really likes Ororo specifically. Keep cooking, Ayodele.

Agent Fuckface! Oooh, 'it's time.' Idiot.

The US government has some weird fucking plans and even weirder agents. Mutant hate looks very silly when you have fish aliens and cosmic juggalos doing wack schemes. I can absolutely buy that the 'greatest country in the world' LOVES financing regime change in sovereign bodies (duh, it's the USA) but Limbo? Do they have oil I didn't hear about? Why would demons give a shit about the USA? Whatever, it's funny. I really wouldn't piss Maddie Pryor off if I was them, she will burn your shit to the ground and snort the ashes. I don't think they've considered the 'then what?' of this operation. Maddie or Magik might Inferno you once a decade, but a 10000 year old demon seems ... worse? Did DOOM approve this? Somehow I doubt it. I mean, they tried to pull a fast one and fucked up so badly that they had to let Storm go. Omega Maggot conveniently had invited half the regulators in the universe over just as the FBI does a warrantless raid assuming Limbo demons would distract anyone there. RIP Limbo demons. Does that mean the FBI plot is over or will Storm have to go to court? I still think she should have lied but whatever.

Not how She-Hulk works but whatever

LAURA KINNEY WOLVERINE #7

This fantasy world mini arc is not especially relevant to the issues preceding it, which is fine, and it was an interesting enough diversion. I think if you just want to have your protagonist kidnapped by aliens and escape over the space of two issues, why the hell not? Laura dwelling on the implications of her 'perfect life' has opportunity, but I don't think we'll see the Badoon again. I wouldn't be against it, as shutting down mutant trafficking is very much in Laura's wheelhouse RN. However, alien abduction is a poor fit for the mutant metaphor. We'll see.

Nobody cares about your wack schemes. Get rekt

If I was a pettier person I'd unblock that queerphobic kook from last month to jeer about Laura walking away from Hellion and the comphet fantasy world. I don't think there's a Wolverine in existence that accepts the suburban fantasy of normativity at face value. Maybe Logan would with Jean and Scott, but that's just another reason Laura is the best Wolverine. No Akihiro is a shame but I get it. So Laura got kidnapped by random aliens for an issue - sure why not? I'm noticing that aliens are more present in the line, here, there and in the FBI. I'm not sure what to make of it. It makes the universe feel bigger and smaller at the same time. Aliens in the FBI, Badoon abducting mutants, Imperial kicking off interstellar wars, Phoenix fighting Dark Gods, Thanos and her sister, etc. They're all under the same office yet the connections are absent. Space is enormous but it feels like a missed opportunity.

GIANT-SIZE NOSTALGIA #1

Wait a minute, I'm getting deja vu. I must have travelled through time to last week when this came out. I do have thoughts, foremost of which is that I have not seen a single person talking about it. Not even to say 'meh, the backup story by Ewing was okay.' I don't really see people, X-Men fans, discussing the current X-book releases at all, but especially this one - which feels grim. There's the odd panel from one of the flagships here and there, but even Rogue fans aren't talking about Rogue in the Savage Land, at least that I'm seeing. I don't see anyone talking about Kitty Pryde and Wolverine. Granted, they're not great, but it might be worse than that. The X-books might be boring and exhausting.

That's a pretty big statement, and it's going to be different for everyone usually, but who is this stuff for? I really like Kamala, and NYX was doing fun new things. Going from that to this feels like a meal nobody ordered. Here's the thing - woo 50th anniversary of Giant-Size, let's celebrate! It didn't feel like a celebration to me. It felt like an OC in a Kamala skin solving the plot because they read this one (somehow.) There's four more of these coming and differentiating it from Weapon X-Men, Kitty Pryde and Wolverine, Spider-Man and Wolverine, Deadpool and Wolverine, and whatever other 'set in the past' 'say the thing' story is out that week is tough. As I said, nobody is talking about it? Are they reading? Buying? Are you? I'm not even mad about the gibberish continuity and nonsensical implications; I just wanted something new and this ain't it. Even feeling mad is better than feeling bored.

I feel kinda bad ending on a cynical note, but constantly recycling nostalgia is a fundamentally cynical practice. Kamala Khan is popular! Giant-Size is a favourite! Her touring through the big X-Men moments in history should feel Giant-Size, but there wasn't even enough story to fill all the pages. Her MCU powers hitting the page was bound to happen eventually, and it happening next to her speaking Krakoan to Krakoa itself (never mind that's not how it works, at all) should make me happy. Theoretically it does, yet the story itself flopped. There's four more of these, with Giant-Size Dark Phoenix next month. Giant-Size Age of Apocalypse is after that, as well as a relaunch? Reboot? Mini? X-Men of Apocalypse, where the world and X-Men in it didn't die, actually. They're coming to 616 for reasons, and nothing will ever be the same! It's like someone is playing Boggle with X-Men titles that sold well in the past, desperately trying to recapture the success of previous decades. I can play that game too. Giant-Size Wolverines Omega. Age of Weapon X-Men. All-New House of Phoenix. Astonishing Old Man X-Venom 2099. Admit it, you can imagine all of these existing, despite being gibberish I cobbled together. Those would be new stories too, I didn't even revisit old shit. Bah!

ASTONISHING X-MEN INFINITY COMICS

Hey Mondo

The Infinity Comics are... okay. They're full of interesting concepts and underutilized characters, plus Banshee the cop, copping around. It's basically a Generation X reunion, except for Monet (in jail, somehow,) Jubilee (wallpaper in Uncanny,) and Synch (NYX was cancelled, but he got an issue dedicated to him.) The promise of exploring the post-Krakoan struggles of the everyday mutants is being mostly fulfilled, though there's a bad habit of pulling away to a different concept just as it gets interesting. This is the most connected and lived in current X-books get, benefiting from a lot more latitude than the print books. It goes a little too hard trying to poke fun at influencers but veers into 'hey, Marvel is ruthless capitalism too.'

There was even a mutant activist group that seemed super interesting, except they turned out to be race war accelerationists who kill people for really trivial reasons. I find it pretty frustrating to be setup for a nuanced take on activism only for the anyone more radical than X-Men to go 'lol, we kill people. It's exactly one bad guy's fault but we'll give up because Banshee frowned at us.' I'm willing to entertain that desiring any sort of political sophistication probably places me in a demographic minority but come on! It'd be nice to see an exploration of organising. Maybe I'm delusional for having expectations from the medium, IDK. Either way, they're a worthwhile read.

Thanks for stopping by! ❤️

[s-wave-entertainment]

*BAM*

THAT WAS THE SOUND OF ME BUSTING THE DOOR DOWN. HI. Okay so first thing's first, I recently saw an animatic (??) by @/armintist on Instagram about N's perception of Tessa as of ep. 6 and it has broken the dam. Your honor I think about what must have been going through his head at that given moment So Often; some may say too often (I know my roommate definitely would, sorry Anna-). Y'all, he literally just remembered her existence and because we have no canon timeline as to how long was between eps. 5&6, I'm going to assume it was no LESS than two hours, IF EVEN. Doll could have gone straight to "Tessa" from Uzi's house, we'll never know. But like... what in the fuck was going on in his brain? This person, who he KNOWS that he knows, that he has vague, barely comprehensible memories of from a time far back into his past that he only just got back, is suddenly standing right in front of him again. And he hesitates, because OF COURSE HE DID. It looks like her (or does it? He doesn't remember his face, he never even truly saw it), it sounds like her, it feels like her... but how long has it been? And why here, why now?

Honestly, "Cyn's" pretty smart. She knew he would be willing to go along with what he told her because he's never really pressed into his memories before. He's relieved the tidbits of them, sure, but he tends to acknowledge them and move on. She knew all she had to do was act right and he would probably trust her. But what she didn't account for was him finding a love worth fighting for, and that's where her ultimate fucky-wucky was. But I'm not here to talk about "Cyn's" strategy, I'm here to talk about our beloved traumatized murder robot puppy.

What do you think happened when it hit him that that skin over Cyn's body wasn't of it's own creation? That his friend was technically still alive, if you count her preserved remains being thrown over a robot body like some sick and twisted reverse fursuit. And it can't be said that that didn't happen, because it definitely did. N's little episode in the hallway while "Cyn" hunted them down showed us that he is in fact recovering his memories. Slowly, and at very unfortunate times, but he is. And I can almost guarantee you that at some point, in some way, he must have recovered the full memory of the gala massacre. And oh me oh my, that must have been a long, hard day for him. Thank God he has Uzi now-

That aside, he must eventually realize what happened. And as he remembers more and more good times with her, his little heart probably just shattered more and more. Along with all of the other BULLSHIT he must be remembering following ep. 8.

AND ANOTHER THING ON THAT NOTE. I have so so so many emotions about N and how good he is and how,,,, Genuinely Good his heart is. Like actually. Y'all, need I remind the court that he was supposed to KILL Uzi. He had her PINNED TO THE WALL with a wing, but after watching her father turn around and ABANDON HER, he stopped. And sure, it can be reasonably said that this is because he spent some time with Uzi beforehand, but how long would they have had together, logistically? Ten minutes, maybe twenty, tops?? The fact that that was enough for him to COMPLETELY CHANGE SIDES and want to help her instead (which is also attributed to the conversation they had in the cockpit but again, TEN MINUTES)... listen, Uzi had no one before she found N, but N had no one either. J openly abused him, and V had to act like she hated him to protect him. N was lonely, just like Uzi. Somehow, someone found him who was kind to him and seemed to actually care. She was a little edgy, but she talked to him and she listened. It was more than he had at the base - and the same was true for Uzi. But again, I could talk about how much I love NUZI for hours, right now I want to talk about how good N's heart is. He was a worker, once. A worker who did everything he could to be... useful, to Tessa's parents, but a good friend to Tessa. And he loved his friends. He has,,, so much love in his heart. He always has. And he gives it so readily, and it can hurt him, but he like - he gets better about it, I believe. He can guard himself better these days, but he just. He still cares. And he cares so much and he just. GOD. GOD I LOVE HIM AND I FEEL SO TERRIBLE FOR WHAT HE'S BEEN THROUGH. FUCKING HELL-