#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."

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

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.

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

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

“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.”

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.

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.

“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.

"I am sorry." He whispers.

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

Silence.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

"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.”

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.

"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.

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.

[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

[dsaf-confessions]

I've been in the dsaf fandom for a year or two by now lol. but like I've only been lurking and...some fans take dsaf TOO seriously. Like, no hate. none at all. but,, I wish people acknowledged more often that Dayshift at freddy's at it's core, is silly. like, all three games are full of jokes (some less than others) and that's the original premise. Yeah, there's the serious lore bits and all.. but what about the SILLY bits? Can we have the silly bits appreciated? Jack can piss for 15 minutes straight, Dave ate an entire ashtray of lit cigarette butts and lost his sense of taste after, ALL the phone guys were programmed to say "darn" and "heckin'!" as a substitute for swearing, and Dee is a tickler (not ticklish, a TICKLER she tickled Dave til his springlocks went off in the premature ending, and she can tickle Jack when in the suit to set it off if you don't wind the box). Henry is the reason why they have cameras in the fazbender's bathrooms.

I love seeing the serious bits too, but I wish people spent as much time with the silly bits as the serious ones. Even when it comes to making your own silly bits!!! Like, yess!!!! Go write that Undertale!DSAF AU. Go write about Dave and Jack as kitchen appliances. Go write about what you headcannon Dee's favorite songs and movies are. Go write about Jack having magical princess half wolf demon powers. EVEN WITH THE PAINTINGS!!! I saw a drawing of Dave and Jack in sailor moon get up and they killed it. absolutely. I know the dsaf artists out here are killing it with their art, it's all amazing and I have lovingly gazed at all of them before. and yes!!!!! Go RP as Peter Kennedy having a deep carnal desire for bird watching, go RP as Harry Fitzergald enjoying himself at an aquarium, go RP as Dave Miller spending hours trying to figure out how air fryers work so he can give it a shot at building one at home.

Please do anything your heart desires!!!!! You can look out the car window with your headphones in and listen to music while imagining sad sfms of the characters and keep it to yourself. But if you wish to share, just now that there's people out there that have been wishing someone would create what they've been imagining too!!! Make your funky spotify character playlists!! Even your youtube music ones!! Because there will be someone out there who thinks the same as you and enjoys them the same as you !!

I live for the serious ones too. Please, go write that heartfelt fic about Dave yearning for his soulless friend's presence in the afterlife. Please, go write about Jack despairing that he doesn't just stop existing after death, and is stuck in a void. Please, go write about Dee speaking to the gang in afterlife about how she wishes she had a longer childhood, and how she is sad that the very few things that made her childhood a childhood is gone and that she can never truly have it back( jack, and all the friends and lovely gifts and animals and all the joy). Please, go write about DaveTrap surviving the fire in the good ending and being miserable because no matter how much he was angry and hateful, he missed Jack, he missed having a quarrel with him, he missed asking just one more time, if Jack wanted to kill kiddins' with him, and then him having to visit Jack's grave and despairing that Jack had never lied when he told him his name. And then DaveTrap sees the other graves, all the other ones, of the kids that died at fazbender's because of fazbender's. And he also sees a grave bearing his own name. His real name. And it was right next to four other graves, of people who's names rang bells in his ears, of people with a last name he recognized, of people he remembered betting on whether or not they'll die with Henry.

AHHH I think this might be too long. i just love ranting about my ideas because as much as i have a love for writing, i can never execute the ideas. they are cursed to forever be just an idea i can share to my friends who don't like dsaf but like hearing my rambles.

So, whoever is reading this, please go enjoy the games as much as you wish!! enjoy the silly AND the serious side !!!!!

.

[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-

[team7-headquarter]

There's no way I can analyze the Team 7 dynamic before saying a bunch of stuff about Sakura.

Most vital parts of her character in relation to the theme of the story get completely overlooked in favor of #GirlPower, making her just part of a ship or hating her without taking a moment to really dive in how she exists on the Naruto world.

What do you mean you can't remember Haku's speech on how in the shinobi system people want to become tools for the people they love and how it connects to Sakura later becoming a medic nin?

What do you mean you can't see how she was not given proper continuation to her Naruto classic breakthrough in the Chunning Exams + after the Sasuke Retrieval mission? And before someone can say her only realization was has been useless all that time, it's even more important!! She knew she had been unfair to Naruto for treating him so bad and expecting him to shoulder all her burdens like nothing, that she did a disservice to Sasuke too by not acting as her teammate but basically asking him to rescue himself and Naruto it failed. She makes a promise to herself to grow for her and not someone else, to become a kunoichi and focus on her career instead of letting times drag her around, she makes herself a promise that she won't be powerless anymore, because her friends deserve it and she deserves it.

Naruto Classic even makes a point of letting her go back into her old ways out of stress and the minute she notices what she has done, what she did to Sasuke and Naruto, she apologizes to him (Naruto) and promises to burden the weight of the promise he made with him— that's why, back then, Shikamaru and Tsunade were able to smile to both Sakura and Naruto, seeing their courage in the face of Sasuke leaving.

Shippuden just repeats and exploits those scenes in new ways, bringing Sakura back at the start for the sake of drama or ship baiting. What Sai told Sakura and how it leads to Sakura fake confession makes no sense given the hospital room scene!!!! She knows she hurt him, she saw it back then!!!! She knows he suffers for her and that's why she promised to go after Sasuke with him next time! She apologized for her behavior and she worried about Naruto's wellbeing and she ran to ask to be Tsunade's apprentice because she knew!!!!

It makes no sense!!!

Her arc in the Classic is supposed to be about how she doesn't have a definition of herself that she feels belong in the world, so she hides behind pretences. During their presentation, you learned more about Sasuke than Sakura. She was on the same level of Kakashi revealing nothing about her life. The Chunning Exams start with Kakashi all worried that her lack of confidence/independence would force her into the exams. She realizes how little she has truly work on her own self during the Sound shinobis attack and cuts her hair, swearing she'll do better. It's her sense of self HIDDEN SO DEEP WITHIN HER, what break a technique that is not supposed to be capable of being broken.

The Classics portraits Sakura as being annoying and naive and causing damage through ignorance but it always Sakura to grow. She learns and she's able to keep that knowledge. She's neglected by Kakashi in her training, but she's able to seek a sensei for herself —and that's an important thing for her! She's not waiting for someone to teach her or recommend her! She has agency now! She has gone so far, evolved so much!

Sakura offering herself as a puppet to Chiyo is not about lack of independence, it's Sakura showing that she acknowledged and accepted the Shinobi philosophy of being a weapon. She's still Sakura, too sentimental, too willing to jump to shield the life of another, but now it gives Tsunade's energy. Those women turn weakness into power, love and fear into determination. Sasori allows them to kill him because the battle was never about the knifes and always about the dispute on points of views.

It's a battle of philosophies: Chiyo and Sakura won

But after that? There are moments of importance and coherence, but the story starts regressing her progress in favor of some angst with Naruto or Sasuke and it kills their dynamics. The storytelling is messy —not cohesive enough. Contradictions start to appear everywhere. It's not even a form to being depth into her characterization, it's clear it's nothing but indecision, confusion, too many lines to take so you take several and end up mixing it.

The Sakura from the Classic was unknowable for her teammates. Naruto couldn't see her struggles because he was too young. Sasuke could see it, but he didn't want to engage with it 'cause he had his own agenda. They had their dreams and they were her dream. They were far more developed and on a different stage of their storylines, while Sakura was far behind, a late bloomer.

Her whole story is about her trying to catch up with them not in power, not in importance, but merely on the idea of having work on herself enough that she can't stand on her own and do something on her own and mean something of her own, without them, outside of them, so their dynamics can mature too.

Must mention that I'm not talking about romance at all, but you can't avoid it a lot because romance is one of the obstacles in their relationships. The love triangle and later the nostalgia encourages them all to see the others through the lenses of idealization or through memories. It's not until the end of the Classic that the masks fall, with Sasuke forcing it. He forces Naruto and Sakura to grow, the same way the violent reality of the Waves arc forced them to face the nature of the shinobi life.

The main conflict of part 1 is that they were kids.

Then Shippuden (with all the love in the world, I love Shippuden so much but wait a minute) goes the coward route. It pretends to be all mature and political and then avoids the real problems, never continuating that personality traits presented in the Classic that would lead Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke to take different decisions that what they took later on the manga.

Naruto wanted to semanticsize the word shinobi after Zabuza! Sakura questioned the system right then and Kakashi had to give a speech about it!!!! The real context of Sasuke leaving is not "oh no, Sasuke you can't be a rebel!!", it's the knowledge that Orochimaru wants to experiment on him and he already has without Sasuke's consent and he (Sasuke) was in real danger by going forward with the cursed mark! The other kids only knew about Orochimaru through the tell of how he killed the Hokage, but Sakura and Naruto fought with him on the Forest of Death!!

Sakura says all she says to try and stop Sasuke for leaving because it is a director callback to their conversation after Naruto transformed in Sasuke and tried to kiss her. Sasuke said Sakura made him sick because she didn't know what how lonely was horrible and dared to talk about it without knowing and saying stuff like she would be better without her parents. So Sakura tries to tell him on that night, look! I'm feeling it now! If this is how you were feeling then stay! Or take me with you! She plays with the fact he must remember that conversation. This time she's not thinking "I want to overwhelm him with sex appeal", mouth full of words she doesn't comprehend. She's saying "I love you!" because she still doesn't comprend how Sasuke feels, but she knows how she feels now.

She's gone a long way, but she still has further to go and Sasuke would never mess with her own development. He would never do that to her. He can't talk to Sakura, she won't get it, she still has to learn about the world, so he won't waste more words. So he thanks her. Who knows what for, but he thanks her. Her ignorance's annoying to no end but he appreciates how she, despite the barriers, tries to reach him anyway. She lacks the words or the method or the strength, but she tries anyway.

For him.

It's very much the same with Naruto. She turns herself into a weapon for them both and she even internalizes the cruelty of the shinobi world, that she had to treat Sasuke like the enemy and fight him like the enemy and stop him for commiting more crimes (view from the Konoha perspective), but she fails. She can't. She does the same thing Tsunade did to poison the people she loved and tried to solve it on her own, but in both cases they were lying to themselves. They wanted an easy way out. I kill you, it's over, I don't have to deal anymore with the pain your own decisions bring me because I can't stop you, you're your own person. They KNOW it and the fold under the knowledge of it, okay?

Naruto is a jinchuriki and they are hunting him to kill him and she can't do nothing, because going on with those missions is Naruto's decisions and not hers. She's selfish in wanting them save and sound! It is bad and it is human! She is erasing them as their own persons! She loves them so so much! She acts several times on her desire to go back and pretend everything is okay and then her friends have to correct her, sometimes gentle or sometimes reprimanding her. As tempting as it is to close your eyes and pretend, it can't be. That's the only reason why she didn't fell for the lure of the Eternal Tsukuyomi: her whole life has been about learning why that living of illusions won't bring happiness to anyone.

Shippuden somehow traps her in that realization like a personal hell. I love you both. You are willing to sacrifice your wellbeing for your dreams. I can't do nothing. I can only cry and ask you to stop and do something reckless and try to use myself as a living shield. But I can't do nothing. You are your own beings and you will destroy yourselves if you want to. I can only sit, wait and see if I can mend you later. I can only deal with the afterwards. I can only control my reactions to your actions.

Making her a medic is amazing because she has to wait for one of them to start bleeding to come in the scene. They will never allow her to fight for them in the way they did for her in the Classic, for multiple reasons —including just how important is agency and free will for both Naruto and Sasuke.

When people say she's useless? Or have no place in the narrative? Or bring nothing to the table? Or speaks in no way about the failures and cruelty if the shinobi system? When people don't get that she's Naruto and Sasuke narrative foil in terms of her arc being narrated in a completely different way with different aspects? That's she's all they're not or can't be or can't have or weren't allowed to be? When people erase her from the dynamics of Team 7 and don't see the gaping hole they left in her absence?

It makes me utterly insane. All members of Team 7, the original and all the Shippuden versions, are relevant to the themes. All of them.

[nanomooselet]

My Brother's Keeper (VII)

Knives, despite it all, I do indeed pity you. You horrible creature. More than you might imagine anyone would dare.

I said some time ago that Knives has agency and Vash doesn't, and that the Eye of Michael's dogma demands sacrifice.

One lives. One dies.

When Knives tells Vash to leave humanity, it's at that very instant Vash realises the truth: that this isn't about the Plants versus humans. It was never about that, ever, and trying to dissuade Knives from continuing his descent by arguing from that premise isn't ever actually going to work.

It's about how discovering Tesla broke them in two. It broke reality, cracked the singular unit they once believed themselves to be in half, and sent each half down forever-separate paths in both space and time.

Vash, through Rem, decided he could face the future. Even despite this discovery, how apathetically cruel the world is to the innocent, the future is always ours to shape as long as we live to choose. Rem showed him that through acknowledging and accepting responsibility for the pain of the past, even if once ignorant or complicit, one could learn and heal, and therefore work to be free of it. Not perfect. Never perfect. But still better.

Nai only saw potential pain. The fear of facing the world where it could be inflicted, and of those who'd done so, consumed him. He would erase both by returning to the past, the innocence and ignorance of having never learned the frightening truth. He'd thus build a paradise, an Eden, where no sin was committed and no sinner would set foot. He alone, in his own singular perfection, was fit both to assume this task and the power - and thus the right - to fulfil it.

Since when have we been so different?/Who are you? We've become so different I don't think I even know you anymore.

Vash begins to cry because he sees now that Nai… Nai is gone. Maybe he ran for too long, or maybe the Nai he thought he knew never existed. It doesn't matter anymore. There's nothing of his brother left to love in this monster before him, who's done everything that he's done and isn't sorry and wants to keep doing it by seizing control over Vash's own body. (Even though they look more like each other now than they have since they were kids, which still absolutely ruins me.) Vash grieves his brother, his brother's love and their togetherness in the past, but he finally knows for sure that they're gone, and he must define his own identity, and move beyond them.

His declaration that he'll always run isn't about running from humanity, anymore than Knives is truly fighting for the freedom of the Plants.

Seriously, Knives isn't fighting for the freedom of the Plants. He thinks he is, because he thinks that justifies controlling their bodies and consuming their power and benefiting from their suffering, but he's reversed cause and effect. He acts and so they suffer, but he believes their suffering is what motivates his actions and not his fear and his greed for the power to destroy whatever he fears. It's circular, and it's entirely self-centred.

It's the logic not of a liberator but of the entire system of oppression.

Knives's paradise, the home to which he's so desperate to return, no longer exists. It never will again. Not for him or for Vash or for the Plants. Knives himself broke it. Knives himself ripped it out of the heavens and plunged it into the earth, shattering it, so he could reshape the pieces into something that he alone controlled. Knives will always assume control, and he won't stop if you give what he says he wants, because he won't admit or even try to understand that it's not the truth.

He wants to stop being scared and alone. He wants his brother to need him and never leave him. He wants his mother, but she's gone. (He killed her. Over and over and over again he kills her and she's still always gone and he hates her for always being gone. Why is she gone? Why didn't she stay? He asked. He gave her a choice.)

(Yet in Vash's memories and in the people he loves, Rem's spirit lives on, and always will. She still loves him, her perfect boy, even still protects him, just as she promised she would. Did you guys know Vash's coat is bulletproof? Did you guys realise Vash literally still walks around kicking ass in the protective embrace of his mother? I actually had to take a minute, when I figured it out. It made me tear up.)

I was rejected?

Let me back in! Take me back.

Knives wants to go home. To be a child again with Vash by his side. Innocent, together, in paradise. But once you've grown up, you can never really go home again. It's a fundamentally selfish desire to want everything to go back to being the same forever - what it means is that because it was good or kind for you specifically, everyone else has to conform whether it was good and kind to them or not. There's always danger in nostalgia even when it's not misplaced. It encourages destructive nihilism, malicious and ignorant apathy. If the best can only ever be behind us, there is no reason to try to go on.

Vash is not nostalgic. Vash will run, and run, and keep running. For a lifetime if he has to - and a Plant's lifetime is a long one. It's not that he hasn't made a choice, but that he'd already made it long ago: to be free of Knives, to live and to fight for independence from his brother's abusive care, and to find a way to unite humans and Plants, the purpose he's been eager and happy to serve since the day he found it. Rem's dream is one he longs to fulfil, and he finally knows he has the power, intelligence, resilience, strength and above all, the right to take up that task.

He's just acknowledged and accepted that it's not also his purpose to help his stupid brother, not if this is all he gets in response. Dismissed, ignored, insulted, his grief and compassion mocked; abused, put down, smothered, injured, rendered permanently disabled, scarred, violated, traumatised. Forced into the shape that Knives imagines he should be in, pieces cut away until he fits the image in his brother's head.

It's very sad that after all that Knives has done to him, Vash doesn't value his own life and wellbeing enough to care for himself as much as he cares for everyone else in the world. But it still beats Knives trying to do it for him. He's so bad at it.

In the past, on occasions such as this, when Vash demonstrated like... the capacity to sort of almost disagree, Knives would yell at him suddenly and loudly enough that Vash would freeze up in terror, and then Knives would do whatever he wanted regardless. My man isn't good at hearing the word "no". If yelling or insults failed, he'd do something physically violent. I've seen a lot of takes on how funny and/or gay it is that Vash's reaction to Wolfwood grabbing his lapels and threatening to torture him to death is... this.

But understand that when Vash suggests an alternative that doesn't involve mass murder, his brother tends not to agree to it. Or stop at threats. Vash's arguments with Knives always make Vash sound a bit pathetic and dumb because Knives doesn't actually engage Vash - he shuts him down or insults him, telling him he's too weak and stupid to even speak. He has no respect at all for Vash's opinions, abilities, or as a person - honestly, I wouldn't treat an animal this way.

When someone finally respects your beliefs and abilities after they've been coldly or violently dismissed so many times, that's… how it feels.

Knives assumed that Vash had no powers so he was weak, and then when Vash did demonstrate powers, that Vash was weak because he was frightened of them. As usual, the trauma he's inflicted maybe being the problem never entered his mind; it's always Vash's fault. When Vash finally has both power and the will to assert control of it, he finally has the capacity and strength to enforce his refusal. And that leaves Knives finally exhausted of any means to break his will.

Except one. One final choice.

Vash is right: the plan has failed and this is over. Knives can never again have the power he desires, and what's more, Vash would rather be shot at for another hundred years than be together with his brother in paradise.

In spite of everything Knives has done to destroy it, the independent identity of Vash the Stampede yet survives. And so.

One lives.

One dies.

Nai is dead.

There's no turning back.

(The stars are falling down.)

And no one ever really goes home.

If you want to tell me Stampede is a poor quality adaptation, it's not funny and it's shallow and Vash is a loser now and there's no Milly and they're just exploiting the property and if it just hadn't been called Trigun maybe... maybe...

Maybe! You're entitled to an opinion. I'm open to the discussion. I do always try to assume good faith.

However, I'm still probably not going to agree.

And I'm done. Now I need to lie down on the floor and cry over my beautiful disaster twins. Thank you very much for reading! I encourage you to be as insane in the tags as you feel moved to be, because I crave validation.

(Extreme Lesbianism for Meryl Stryfe: Coming Soon.)

(Part I)

(Part II)

(Part III)

(Part IV)

(Part V)

(Part VI)

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 29

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, 18+/Explicit

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20 l Ch. 21 l Ch. 22 l Ch. 23 l Ch. 24 l Ch. 25 l Ch. 26 l Ch. 27 l Ch. 28

Chapter 29 summary: The Partisans arrive on base, and Crosshair realizes how much he still doesn't know about Dara.

Extra content warnings for this chapter: References to last chapter's smut but nothing direct.

As the Partisans’ ship began its descent to the landing pad where they were all gathered, Crosshair was not looking at Dara. He wasn’t even thinking about Dara. He definitely was not glancing over at her to see her reaction to the ship’s arrival, wondering if that was anticipation or eagerness or anxiety on her face. He wasn’t remembering her trembling in his lap, crying out his name, and lamenting that he might never get to hear that sound again.

And maybe he didn’t technically need to be here for the Partisans’ arrival on base, but the rest of the squad was here anyway so he might as well be, and Crosshair definitely wasn’t here just because Dara was here and he needed to see with his own eyes how she reacted when Gerrera came walking off the transport, if she smiled or her eyes lit up or she kept her expression carefully schooled like she always did only to sneak away with Saw later to some dark corner—

He couldn’t do this. He should just go. He was only going to end up causing trouble, and that was probably the real reason why Dara had broken things off in the first place—because working out an alliance between their two groups was too important, and she knew he would just ruin this for her.

Or maybe it was because she knew something else. Suspected, long before he did, what he had only realized he couldn’t keep denying the moment that she had told him things had to end.

Maybe, somehow, she knew that when he laid awake in his bunk at night, he didn’t always fantasize about finding ecstasy between her legs. Sometimes he just pictured staying with her afterwards, burying his nose in her hair while she slept.

Something in Crosshair’s chest had clenched tight as soon as the words had fallen from Dara’s lips the night before, panic and desperation bubbling up from deep in his belly, and it was pure muscle memory to cover it over with snark. He had proposed having sex again just to delay the inevitable, to give himself some time to figure out where he had gone wrong. She was angry that he was being possessive because of Howzer—yes, obviously he was staking his claim there—but there had to be something more.

He didn’t really know much about Dara’s past, when it came down to it. All those long years that natural-born beings had, living unregimented existences. When he thought of everything he’d managed to get up to just during the handful of shore leaves they’d had while the war raged on, he had to acknowledge that it was unrealistic to expect her sexual history to be any less extensive.

But that, surprisingly, didn’t bother him. What bothered him was the thought of anyone else having her now.

Especially if it was someone who mattered to her.

Crosshair wasn’t sure if he was convinced by her pronouncements about Saw, but the least he could do was show her that he was just as good. Could offer just as much. Better. Even if sex was all she ever needed him for.

Dara must have seen right through him, though. The way he had declared how badly he wanted to make her cum over and over was practically a neon sign pointing out that his affection had strayed beyond what she could tolerate. Not to mention how he’d lied to get her to stay on top of him, just because he wanted to sit there with her a little longer before he had to let go and never feel her like that again.

He was so pathetically obvious. In retrospect, the way she had driven him wild with her mouth seemed at best a bitterly cruel parting gift, at worst pity.

Hunter squeezed Crosshair’s shoulder as the Partisans’ ship finally landed. “Easy, vod,” he murmured.

The sniper wasn’t sure what his brother’s enhanced senses were picking up from him. Probably that the hatch wasn’t even open yet and Crosshair was already seriously considering fist-fighting Saw Gerrera just to make himself feel better.

Crosshair huffed. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh. Just try to behave,” Hunter replied skeptically.

With a hiss of steam, the ship’s ramp finally descended, and the Partisans had arrived.

About a dozen people in a mix of species, all clad in hodgepodge armor and equally mismatched weapons, slowly shuffled their way out into the morning sunshine of the landing platform. Dara nodded and exchanged pats on the back with each one as they passed by, murmuring her greetings. Most smiled warmly to see her, though a few leaned in with serious expressions, speaking quietly and earning a significant look from her in turn. The Partisans had sent a mixture of fighters and Dara’s intelligence specialists, and Crosshair couldn’t be sure, of those who treated her like either an old friend or a superior officer, which group was which.

One individual, however, he had no doubt was a friend, as a tiny Theelin woman with silvery-blue skin and bright blue hair squeezed Dara tightly, chattering a klick a minute.

“You said the operation would only take a few weeks and it’s been months and you let yourself be compromised and captured and we are never sending you in without backup again, and your last message was utter banthashit by the way you barely gave me any details and don’t start with me with that mission security shit I was ready to track this place down and bust you out of here myself if it came down to it you absolute—"

“Everything’s fine, Yaru,” Dara soothed. “I had it all under control.”

Yaru brightened as she released her friend, somehow immediately appeased, her sudden change in attitude liable to cause whiplash. “Well, of course you did. But I need to get you up to speed on—”

The Theelin, who had been surveying the crowd of clones as she spoke, stopped short in the middle of her sentence and lifted her gaze, drawing it up, up, up, until she met Wrecker’s eyes where he towered at least half a meter taller than her.

“Well, helloooo there,” she greeted him, drawing the words out longer than strictly necessary. She looked him up and down without an ounce of subtlety. “You’re certainly a big boy, aren’t you?”

Wrecker turned bright red and rubbed the back of his neck a little sheepishly, but still laughed and beamed at her. “Uh. Sure am!”

Dara scrubbed a hand down her face, lifting her eyes to the heavens as if begging the Maker to spare her the indignity of witnessing this. Crosshair could relate.

She sighed, gesturing between them in introduction. “Wrecker’s one of the clones who picked me up when I crash landed. Yaru works comms and tech for me. Can we dispense with this until after you’ve taken more than five steps on planet, maybe, Yaru?”

The woman gasped in mock outrage. “Is that all I am to you, Dara? An esteemed colleague? And here I brought some of your things from base. That’s the last time I try to do a nice thing for you.” Yaru shoved a pack into Dara’s hands, tilting her head back dramatically and resting the back of her hand against her forehead as she stomped away, faking sobs, the effect of which was almost immediately undermind when she paused in order to wink at Wrecker as she passed by.

Dara shook her head, an amused smile playing at her lips that made Crosshair’s chest ache, before she caught a glimpse of the final person descending the ramp and her expression turned serious once more.

Saw Gerrera had piercing blue-green eyes in a severe, scarred face that his unkempt beard and buzzed head did little to soften. His demeanor was somehow even harsher than Crosshair remembered. It had been two standard years since he had seen the Partisan leader, and through the haze that permeated all his memories of that time under the influence of the inhibitor chip, he could still recall the simultaneous contempt and foreboding that he had felt when Saw had warned them that a civil war was coming.

Crosshair wondered how the rebel had seen what was happening so early on, when they themselves were still floundering. Though he had thought Gerrera was simply an arrogant insurgent at the time, destined to be destroyed, the rebel had been right, in the end. The Batch needed to pick a side, and shortly after their encounter, they had.

Unfortunately, Crosshair had not been on the side the rest of his squad had chosen at first. But he was here now.

Dara nodded at her leader, greeting him no more or less than she had the rest of her comrades—to Crosshair’s quiet joy—but then furrowed her brow at his glare.

“Saw. Did something happen?”

“We had a stowaway,” he growled.

Dara, confused, looked beyond him deeper into the interior of the ship. Suddenly, her eyes lit up, and she smiled, her expression radiating warmth. It was dazzling, like staring directly into a star, and Crosshair felt his chest ache again.

She’d never looked at him like that. From where he stood, he couldn’t see who made Dara shine like the night sky, and maybe he’d been wrong about Saw all along—maybe someone else was the reason she’d ended things with him. And how could he possibly compete with anyone who had an effect on her like that?

The moment felt impossibly long, far longer than it could have been, before the person came into view, and Crosshair’s fragile and confused emotional state hurtled into the next system when he caught sight of a sullen teenager.

The boy couldn’t have been much older than Omega. He had rich copper skin and dark, wavy hair, but his eyes were a strange milky-gray, pupils barely pinpricks. He blinked in the sunlight, gaze flicking uncertainly between Dara and Saw as he shifted from foot to foot. Dara folded her arms and scowled at him, but her eyes gave her away, still twinkling with happiness.

“What, I’m gone for a few months and suddenly you’re too good to give me a hug?”

Relief washing over his features, the boy took the last few steps at a run, practically tackling Dara in his eagerness. “I thought you’d be mad,” he breathed. “Saw was.”

Dara drew away from him, grinning. “I could never be mad at you for coming to see me.”

The boy frowned. “But I left my post.”

“Well, it’s about time you gave me a field report, isn’t it?” She ignored Saw’s displeasure entirely as she looked the teen up and down for a minute. “Dank farrik, kid, how much taller did you grow?”

The boy only shrugged before he glanced out at the group of clones and realized they had an audience. Dara patted his back in support when he drew back.

“Boys, this is Brith, my best field agent. If you want to know everything there is to know about a target or an Imperial base, all you have to do is drop him in town for a few weeks and wait.”

Brith shrugged a little self-consciously as the men smiled and nodded at him. Omega caught his eye with an excitable wave, and Crosshair was certain she’d be interrogating him, wide-eyed, about his adventures before the hour was up. Crosshair himself, though, wasn’t sure exactly what to make of it—Dara had certainly never mentioned anything about a kid before, and he couldn’t help but wonder how much else she hadn’t told him.

Dara stood aside for a moment, murmuring quietly to Brith, while Rex stepped forward to clasp Gerrera by the hand. “Good to see you again, Saw,” the Captain welcomed him.

“You too, Rex.” Saw drew himself up as he returned the gesture, surveying the crowd of clones. When his gaze alit on Crosshair and the rest of Clone Force 99, his eyes darkened. “Just wish I could say the same about all your men. You know…” he took a step toward the sniper, arms crossed, expression murderous. “I promised myself if I ever saw you again then I’d even the score.”

Crosshair smirked. “I suppose you could try,” he drawled.

Saw addressed the Captain over his shoulder without looking away, fists clenching.“I’ve got to be honest, Rex—if we’re supposed to be trusting each other, having him on your side isn’t doing you many favors,”he spat.

Crosshair surveyed him quickly, already sizing up his weak points in case it came down to a brawl. Behind him, he felt his brothers stiffening. Wrecker loomed menacingly over his shoulder while Tech shuffled Omega behind them, to her muffled protests.

“Hmm,” Crosshair sneered. “I would give you a list of all the Imperials I’ve killed to prove myself, but I’ve already lost count.”

“Can’t say it would change my mind,” Saw retaliated. “Betrayed the Republic, betrayed your squad, betrayed the Empire…doesn’t seem to me like you care much which side you’re killing.”

Hunter stepped up beside Crosshair. “You’re gonna want to back off, Saw,” he growled. The Sergeant could tell his brother to behave all he liked, but when it came down to it, Crosshair couldn’t help but appreciate how quickly he’d back him up anyway. Both sides were preparing for a fight now, the tension ratcheting up until the air was thick with it, and the part of Crosshair that whispered that he was doing exactly what Dara didn’t want him to do warred with the element that would rather let his feelings out through his fists.

When the woman herself intervened, standing between Saw and Crosshair and glaring at each of them in turn, the sniper almost found himself shrinking back a little.

“Far be it from me to put a stop to this little pissing contest,” Dara interrupted, “but I’ve already had this discussion.” She turned toward Saw, arms folded. “And I’ve made my peace with it. You don’t have to trust him, but you should at least trust my judgment.”

Saw worked his jaw, still glowering, his eyes darting between Dara and Crosshair for a moment.

“You’ll vouch for him?” he finally asked.

Dara glanced back at Crosshair, expression unreadable, and he felt a traitorous flip in his stomach. It was ridiculous, how his nerves were steel in the face of what very well could’ve escalated into violence, only to wobble the minute she looked at him.

She nodded. “I trust him. We wouldn’t be doing this otherwise.”

She trusted him. Surely, she didn’t mean that—she had told him the opposite herself. Dara was just trying to appease Saw, to get this alliance to work. Inexplicably, Crosshair suddenly noticed that the bruises he’d left on her neck had disappeared, and, his stomach churning with all the jealousy and anticipation and disappointment and everything else he’d been subjected to over the last rotation, he wondered if she’d also bothered to waste bacta on erasing the lovely, succulent marks he’d dedicatedly inscribed over her breasts. He hoped she hadn’t.

Saw didn’t relax even an iota, still chewing stubbornly on her affirmation, but most of his fighters did, sensing that the moment had passed. From the corner of his eye, Crosshair saw Hunter signal the rest of the squad to stand down.

Rex placed a firm hand on Gerrera’s shoulder. “The Empire’s hurt all of us, Saw,” the Captain avowed quietly. “It’s time to work together.”

Finally, Saw tore his gaze from Dara, shooting Crosshair one last mistrustful scowl. “We can do that. At least, for now.” He turned to Rex, gesturing with his chin. “Lead the way, Captain.”

As the clones and Partisans followed their leaders from the landing pad toward the briefing room, Crosshair was close enough to hear Dara and Saw’s quiet conversation.

“Where’s Ryndi?” Dara asked, glancing over the group behind them as if expecting to see another face there.

Saw tensed his jaw almost imperceptibly. “She had to stay behind on base to keep an eye on her patients. We had some injuries during an operation on Eriadu.”

“You infiltrated Tarkin’s compound without me?” To the casual observer, Dara was looking at Saw with mild disapproval, but Crosshair could tell she was furious, her nostrils flaring ever-so-slightly. He scoffed internally, thinking that Saw’s boldness must really outweigh his intelligence if he thought he could take on the Imperial governor in his own base.

“It couldn’t be helped,” Saw asserted. “There was a summit of high-ranking Imperial officers that we were targeting. I didn’t want to pull you out from here.”

Dara was gritting her teeth and seemed to want to object, but appeared to decide to bite her tongue. “Well did you at least complete the objective?” she asked instead.

Saw gave her a look. “Do you think I would have this expression right now if we had managed to take out Tarkin?” With that, he caught up with Rex at the head of the group, leaving Dara shaking her head in frustration behind him.

Crosshair was beginning to see where some of Dara’s hesitation in describing her relationship with Saw had come from during his interrogation the night before. Perhaps it was more complicated than he had thought. Though a small part of him was still ringing with a stubborn, certainly misplaced hope—she trusts me, she trusts me, she trusts me—he couldn’t be sure if that was a good thing for him.

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog @flaming-dumpster

[captainimfangirling]

Here's something I don't understand. I see many reviews say how they feel bad for Lydia because Beetlejuice has been torturing her for 30 years.

Warning: Spoilers

Edit: Lydia actually did say she can feel him every now and then so he wasn't entirely unsuccessful. But still I don't think it was torture and she always had issues way before she met him.

How is Beeltejuice torturing her for 30 years when she didn't even notice him until recently? Beeltejuice said so himself that she's been ignoring him for 30 years and finally saw him "that last time" so he's been UNSUCCESSFULL at getting her attention for 30 years. Yes Lydia has mental health issues but it's not just because of what happened with Beeltejuice in the first movie. I mean the girl wanted to die as a teenager. She's been having mental health issues way before she even met him.

I think interacting with ghosts for 30 plus years is the main reason for her mental health issues as an adult. It's all fun and games when you're a teenager but I'm sure it took a toll on her over the years (so she started taking pills at one point) and because of the TV show everyone knows about her gift. Basically everyone knows about her life. Also not having the Maitlands around anymore for who knows how long. Lydia and Delia didn't become close until Lydia became popular or had her own TV show (something like that correct me if I'm wrong but think Lydia said this). All Lydia had as parents were the Maitlands and she did anything to keep them/save them but they're gone. Her birth mother is alive and most likely doesn't acknowledge Lydia's existence. Even Delia thought she was dead. Sadly even her own daughter ignores her because Astrid thinks she's a fraud.

Sorry I'm just annoyed because I feel like so many aren't paying attention to a lot of things. If I made a mistake about anything please let me know because I've only seen it once. I'm willing to listen if you don't agree with me.

[buttercuparry]

I now know why the idea that courtesy is the answer to every conflict is so prevalent in the fandom. You have a handful of tumblr intellectuals who would rather discuss if Arya should have been feeling guilty about killing the Bolton guard or the degree of it ( he is just a guy standing around, we don't know anything about him, hey maybe he doesn't get paid enough to stop 3 prisoners from leaving!), rather than acknowledge that Arya had gone through hell to survive and she more than any other Stark kid knows the cost of war. Arya's list is called fucked up ( they add the "understandable" adjective immediately after but reiterate that it's fucked up). And the prevalent idea then, in use of all these words is equating Arya to violence. Which is why all those incorrect quote posts of 'Arya's every solution being violence' get so many notes.

Arya's list isn't the measure of her violence. It instead is the proof of her trauma. And she tries again and again to leave the nightmares behind: the countless times she tries to reach Jon, her feeling what good does Joffrey's death do if her mother and brothers are dead, her wanting to stay on with the crew of Titan's daughter.

They would talk about how fucked up her list is hence insinuate the tremendous capacity of violence and draw up theories after theories about Faceless Men but won't ever be conscious enough to recognize that Arya never truly wanted anything to do with the FM ( even after reaching Braavos she tries to stay on the ship).

So imagine knowing all these. To have read all these chapters and to get stuck on the ethics of murdering the Bolton guard. Mind you this is brought up because it has been admitted that previously Arya has had to kill in self defense and for others. There has been a reiteration that there these kills are pardonable since there had been an active threat on her. But the murder of the Bolton guard is a matter of ethics!

And you know what I am not even arguing about that. It is a grey area. But it's the extra scrutiny placed on the female character that gets to me. A clood blooded premeditated murder committed!! As if this murder exists in vacuum. As if this girl who the world around knows to be a commoner would have been allowed to leave Harrenhal by that guard just standing around. As if prisoners and slaves have a say on what is to be their fate. As if each day and every day Arya isn't surrounded by the violence wrought in Harrenhal. As if this violence wasn't necessary for her to make a safe escape.

They would argue it wasn't and here I realize that the issue goes deeper than that. Here is an excerpt of their dialogue:

They maintain that only Gendry and Hot Pie had been in danger here. That Arya was actually safe as she could have just revealed her identity anytime and apparently there were ways of proving it without one recognizing her face ( I doubt that).

Somehow this makes me realize that this sort of thinking is what dismisses Arya's entire arc. This is what had been going wrong in the tv show which reduced all of Arya's trauma to ✨adventure✨because they think all the suffering Arya went through was intentional and could have been stopped anytime! All she had to do was reveal her identity.

I honestly do not know what Arya could have done to prove she was a Stark. When they sent guards to hunt her down and Arya realized that maybe in convincing her two friends to run away with her, she has in turn condemned them- Arya makes a decision to reveal who she is and let herself taken hostage. But here's the thing and no matter how many so called intellectuals throw up shit that her identity could have easily been proven-there would always, always the matter of chance. They could believe or they won't. And what would happen if they won't? Arya would be killed.

Now let's see what would have happened if Roose had ahold of the real Arya? Wouldn't she be in the place of Jeyne Poole. Jeyne has had to suffer under a monster, under a sadist. And those cries that echo around Winterfell now, would have been Arya's. This is what the fandom wants. I mean to say this is what the fandom wants from its female characters. Be the passive recipient of all that is to happen. There is no admiration in taking yourself promptly out of a situation that can be dangerous by actively interfering in the storyline. Act only when an action has been committed against you. There would have been more sympathy for Arya if she bled the way they wanted her to. If her cries echoed through halls. If she wasn't an active participant in her own storyline.

The other thing is the matter of could have. There is always the matter of could have when it comes to Arya. Arya could have tried to be more courteous. Arya could have just let Joffrey cut Mycah's face. And now Arya could have hatched a plan keeping in mind the safety of not only her party but of everyone else ( the Bolton guard) and snuck past. Every decisive control Arya takes is countered with a could have. That Arya chose to simply eliminate the risk in a situation that begged a safe escape isn't taken well. There is always a could have even when the text itself provides us with no definitive answer to this alternative could have.

I never understood how people could judge Dany when she actively brings down an empire of slavery. But now I think I can. There is no passivity. There is unapologetic action against the slave masters. They too perhaps are just some guys standing around to many in this fandom. And every decisive move against them, every violence against them also brings about the compulsion of the could have.

These female characters refuse to be a part of the could have. Of passivity. Their grey actions are to take back control of their storyline. Hence are they vilified. And hence should there be guilt and remorse on their part.

[metvmorqhoses]

A big issue that they (unfortunately) carried over into the show was how dense Alina is. Yes, Aleksander came off as a weak obsessive rather than someone who was entangled in a mutually complex yet deeply felt connection with Alina, yet he was posing very REAL and valid questions towards her which were brushed off with reactionary and flipppant answers. They had a chance to address these real issues Alina faces alone with him out of the picture. Because he’s posed as the villain, his centuries long experience is completely thrown out the window instead of at least contemplated. Unless the show writers are planning to tackle this in a substantial way next season they otherwise come across as incredibly stupid at least. He’s known loss, he’s known love and pain and violence and all of that is completely disregarded and shunned by Alina who in the books (which I still have issues with) at the bare minimum acknowledges a real connection towards him. I mean, she boldly asserts she will walk her own path and not five minutes after his death is already dabbling in morally grey territory because *shocker* things aren’t actually black and white (good or bad) as she thought.

You know, the more I think about this season putting it against the implication the ending gave us, the more I'm convinced it was done on purpose. I refuse to believe they reached this level of utter absurdity for real and no one thought to stop them.

The only way this even thicker Alina makes any sense in the grand scheme of things is to consider the entire season her corruption origin story. This interpretation is actually backed up by many subtle things and literally most of her exchanges with the Darkling.

He tries to make her understand things, he constantly tries to warn her about power and their unique circumstances, about balance and sacrifice - she doesn't listen and only villainizes him further and further (constantly making him her villain), while the plot actually slowly and unrelentingly proves him right. She calls him power-hungry and immediately proceeds to desperately search for the next amplifier. In their every interaction he acts as the proud mentor, even calling her "one of his out-of-control creations" and saying things like "I saw what you truly are and I never turned away". She takes off her kefta saying she will never wear his color again - her own dress underneath is black. As the season progresses, her makeup turns darker and darker. She's obsessed with tearing down the Fold almost as if it was her way to prove something to herself more than for the sake of Ravka ("Ravkans will see the skies from here one day, by my power!"), that probably would have actually benefited from the existence of it at that precise moment in time. She shames him for his use of Merzost and then proceeds to use it for the most selfish reason imaginable. The Darkling's ending is also very odd, I'm more and more convinced he actually went there with the intention of being killed by her (he basically closed his eyes and waited for her sword), afraid of his uncontrollable powers. He even begs her to make sure "nothing of him remains", and if at first I was influenced by the books' reason (he didn't want his body desecrated), I now actually think he was trying to make sure nothing of that infectious power remained to haunt her and Ravka while he was gone - and what I think actually happened right away to both Nikolai and Alina, immediately possessed and, in her case, corrupted. This is even teased by Nikolai's attire in the last moments of the show. When I was watching it I immediately noticed they put him into a black uniform with a golden "eagle" that looked strangely way too similar to Alina's kefta from the Winter Fete and even to Aleksander's new one. I found it odd and then, surprise surprise, Nikolai is possessed! Is everything a big coincidence? I think not.

In short, the entirety of the narrative is actually hinting at the same thing, proving her wrong and the Darkling right. Even with the wisps of light in his kefta and her shadow cut, I think they are definitely hinting at their shared powers and probably they more in-depth books dynamic in season three. This would also explain why they didn't include any canon darklina scene this season. They are saving them for later.

[victoriadallonfan]

@ssordin

See, first off, this is the first I'm hearing of people not particularly like his backstory. Is it a tumblr fandom thing? That's sort of neat.

Secondly, I LOVE Cradle as a character. I love how smarmy he is, I love how he plans to blackmail and extort EVERYONE he meets, and I love his stupid hand puns.

I think he serves a lot of purposes, but I think I'll stick to just 3 for brevity's sake:

He's the analogue to Victoria's worst impulses and desires that she never acts on. Manipulating people onto his side just to secure his position, cutting himself off from all his support when he needs it most because it might impede him, and chasing after the cause of his trauma for pure revenge. There are pieces of this seen in Diary!Victoria for sure, but Victoria has moments where she wishes that she could just have Amy gone, but never acts on it.

He's meant to be everything that Victoria thought Tattletale was... and Tattletale thought the same. The story puts a LOT of emphasis on Tattletale clearly having sympathy for the cluster and how she highlights Cradle as the "sane, stable one" multiple times. Even when he's going to chop her into pieces, she tries to reason with him, and he shuts that down instantly now that the mask was off. Which is fitting because HIS thinker power is the fanon!version of Tattletales, able to see weakness in people, and that aided his ability to mold himself into someone she WANTED to see (also helped by clusters messing with her power). The way he planned to use March as a manipulated scapegoat is close to exactly how Victoria imagined Tattletale swayed Taylor and Foil to "the dark side", even.

He's a fascinating exploration into a different kind of relapse than Amy. Amy relapsed because of her inability to face her guilt and acknowledge the consequences of her actions are not hers to control anymore. She ultimately finds a path to therapy by having Flashbang (with Sveta/TT/Vic helping) and Darnall get her into a position where she has to hold those realities in her mind as a responsible human being. Cradle is the opposite. He knows what he wants to do is wrong. Not just in how he plans to torture Rain to death or betray his teammates, but that he plans to purposely harm everyone who's in his way to do so. And he's fucking smart enough to know how to manipulate plausible deniability, by having his minions use his weapon first or extorting people with crises so that they can't refuse. To be clear, he has absolutely every right to be so traumatized. Absolutely valid, especially after all the effort he put into being "normal" (even though it started from a place of blackmail). But the way he parses it after is that he's upset that he wasn't rewarded for being good. The realization that karma truly did not exist, that all that effort doesn't mean anything in a world where everyone has free will, and that means being hurt.

Like Victoria says, he fucking sucks at coping.

But we got a badass fucking hand mecha, so it's a win in my book.

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: You Disgrace The Human Race

Summary: Jon and Damian decide to hate each other, but it doesn't go as planned.

ft. Damian being a smartass, Jon being a dumbass, and that one scenario where one is caught in the rain and the other helps them out a lil bit. (2nd one shot)

Life was good as Jon Kent, alright?

He walked into school and there were people fawning over him, groups of his peers who demanded his attention. Sure, schoolwork was there, but it could wait. Besides, who needed school when they weren’t going anywhere, anyways?

His brother Kon had gone into high school with the same ideas, and came out passing everything with fairly decent grades, surely he could too, and have even more time. 

He was wrong, evidently, as his latest report card had him failing nearly every one of his classes. 

And that was when fate decided to drop one very aggravating, very hot boy in his lap. 

He wouldn’t lie, he had seen Damian around some time, but had never gotten a full glimpse of him. It was always just his hand going up in class or his clothes with varying shades of green sweep around the corner. 

Now that he knew him, and his family’s history with teens like him. He was determined to not be another sucker.

No offense, Kon.

Besides, he was so annoying, with his smug smirks and stupid remarks and his pretty eyes and there was NO WAY he was falling for it.

However, now that he knew who he was, and put a name to the face in a way, Damian was everywhere .

In his AP class, bumping into him in the hallways, seeing him at lunch. Damian never acknowledged him farther than a “Excuse me,” when he bumped into him and moved to get by.

It was infuriating, frankly, because now that he knew that he existed, a foolish part of him wanted to be seen. Would a hello kill him?

He asked just that as they collided in the halls, sending Damian’s books and papers flying all over the hallway. 

“What’s your problem, dude?” The girl Damian was walking with scowled at him, helping Damian pick up his stuff. If he remembered correctly, her name was Maya.

“It was an accident.” Jon bit back, picking up the book that landed in front of him, but not adding it to the stack the other boy had in his arms.

“Accident, my ass.” Maya scoffed, Damian reaching a hand in front of her to stop her movement.

“It’s alright. You can head up without me, I'll be there as soon as I collect the rest of my items.”

She nodded and left, but not before a glare sent Jon’s way.

“The book, please, Kent.” Damian held a hand out, waiting.

“Oh, so now you acknowledge my existence.”

“I’m sorry, I was unaware we were friends.” Damian raised an eyebrow at his seemingly offended tone.

“We are not! ” Jon sputtered. “But it would be nice to be said hi every now and then by the person i am in forced socialization with on weekends.”

“I was under the impression that you hated me?” His calm air rubbed at Jon's heighted one the wrong way and he glowered at the shorter boy.

“I do hate you!”

“Feeling is mutual. Now, my book?”

They faced off, staring at each other. Jon slowly raised the book up above his head, watching the distaste spread across his face.

“I cannot believe you. Truly, you put the juvenile in juvenile delinquent.” Damian eyed the book above him, gaze calculating.

“That may be, but let’s think about this, short-stack, how high are you going to have to jump to get what you want?”

Damian seemed bored, and completely unfazed. “I am not a trick dog. Besides, how do you know that one is even important to me? Let’s see, my next class is Advanced Algebra ll, if that isn’t my math book then you can very well keep it.”

Jon brought it down to eye level to read the title, “This is for Englis- HEY!”   

As soon as it was lowered, Damian snatched it out of his hands. “Pleasure doing business with you, Kent.”

He watched as the other sashayed past him, an annoying little laugh escaping him.

“I hate you.” Jon seethed to himself, definitely not watching him leave, before turning on his heel and going the opposite direction.

Honestly, what was this guy’s problem?

Damian minded his own business, went along with his day, and ignored him. Obviously if you didn’t like someone at all, you would never demand their attention!

But now, coming down the hall with the newly reclaimed book in his hand, he asked himself exactly why Jonathan Kent seemed so insistent on getting his attention, only to use it to mock him.

He was certainly feeling similar to how the delinquent said he felt, although hate was a bit strong. 

Insane dislike? That was closer.

Much more like an annoying prick in his side, or a constantly probing pain. Something that in theory, could be brushed away, but kept coming back.

An untrained puppy?

No, no, Jonathan wasn’t cute enough to be a puppy. Not that he wasn’t attractive. Not that he was attractive to begin with.

Ugh. 

None of this was going to fit, so it was much easier to file him away with the label of “annoyance.”  

Surely, this too would pass.  

Damian shuffled through the day as usual, answering questions and avoiding all contact with Jon if possible. He did not need something to distract him from his studies, nor convince him to divide his attention.

The final bell rang and he gathered his books, shoving what he could in his bag, but only ones that wouldn’t smush the papers in the carefully color-coded folders.

He hauled the rest out and wrinkled his nose as the cold air hit him. It was unusually chilly for the day, and little droplets of water began to fall in a slowly scattered shower. 

It would be a pain to make the walk outside all the way to the vast pick up area where one of his older brothers was sure to be waiting with the car.

He gathered up the last of his stretcher and hugged his books to his chest, so as not to destroy the ones that wouldn’t fit in his bag. 

Damian had made it halfway when a warm weight draped across his shivering form and he looked up.

Jonathan was holding his jacket over him and placing it on his shoulders.

“Gimme your books.” He demanded in a less than friendly tone. Damian stared at the taller boy, wondering slightly if he’d hit his head by accident.

“ Oh for God’s sake -” The boy muttered, yanking them out of his grip and moving him forwards.

“What the hell are you doing?” He found his voice somewhere between then and where they were rounding the building to the parking lot.

“I’m carrying your stupid books, what does it look like?” Jon’s voice was irritated, ushering him along quicker.

 Damian quirked an eyebrow. “Careful, I might just start thinking you don’t hate me after all.”

Jon scoffed. “Can’t have Mr. Perfect ruining his spotless attendance with a sick day, can we? Don’t think this means we’re friends or anything, I just don’t want your demise on my hands.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Damian muttered, tightening the borrowed leather jacket around himself.

They reached the car and Jon handed him his books, Damian trying to offer him the sweater back.

“Keep it, it’s already infested with your good boy cooties.”

“What are you, five?”

“And a half!” Jon smirked, trotting off. “Keep your stupid face out of the rain.”

“Ass.” Damian muttered, sliding into the backseat of the car.

Dick was the driver today and he looked in the rear-view mirror, smiling.

“Who’s your friend, lil D?”

“He’s not my friend, he’s the most annoying human being to ever grace my presence.”

“Well, looked pretty friendly to me, carrying your books. I don’t think that’s your jacket either, is it now?” Dick tapped his finger on the steering wheel, keeping his eyes on the road and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Just shut up and drive, dick. ” Damian hissed, subconsciously burrowing into the warmth the borrowed jacket offered.

“That felt more targeted than my actual name.” Dick pouted. “I’m just trying to bond with my baby brother!”

“I am not a baby, Richard. ”

“Mhm.” They switched lanes and made their way home, Damian grumbling all the while.

The leather jacket stayed on, and ended up folded over his desk chair for the next few days.

What they don’t know, won’t hurt them.

[yuseirra]

This isn't totally about 162 so I'll just post this without a read more:

Here I am trying to make sense out of things that don't~ it's times like this I realize I have a brain because I can feel it running frantically on its own in the background like CPU to form an analogy to make it all work together.

It's really confusing...tbh,

By the way, WHY did Kamiki acknowledge Ai was just your normal, ordinary girl if it were to come to this? It's what's helped me build my understanding around this guy, is that idea still relevant? About Kamiki still loving Ai even while seeing her as a person?

At this point, I won't be surprised if the author writes they changed what they originally planned bc they saw the reactions that insisted Kamiki should be a villain, because what's been going on totally contradicts what he's said back there. He DIDN'T have to say it, no one expected the character to make such a statement but he did, was there a point in that? That was the line he's made that sold me the idea that him and Ai could have really been a match as well as Ai's video.

Yeah, it's probably that Kamiki broke down after Ai passed? Because he couldn't bear her presence fading away year after year after her death, so he couldn't accept that and wanted to become closer to her somehow(through this bizzare reasoning he's formed)

So, this motive of his isn't about her popularity or how well she's known to the public, it's more about the way he "feels" about her. Because... Yeah, killing someone who surpasses Ai doesn't really automatically lead to her suddenly being acknowledged more by the public. It's really hard to form that sort of connection, wouldn't it?; and why do something like that during when Ai's still alive? It would have taken place after she's gone away.

Would it really be that he changed only because she left him? That wouldn't be it, could it?; she had his kids!! He could have gone and met them! The fact that she's alive and he could meet her would BE proving her presence and significance. So I do insist on the idea that Hikaru started growing the way he is after Ai's passing.

It does also align with the song's vibes on how he can't bear to live without her and would sacrifice anything, to fill in what's missing and all that. The song also states that he's accepted this sort of fate he is, and that he "wants to get closer to the only Ai"

So yes, it's determined that Fatal is really indeed his song.

In that case though, how DOES doing what he does make him grow closer to her?; Is there something that's made him convinced it'd actually prove to do so and an idea that has some sort of solid base or reality, or is it just him having a vague feeling of twisted closeness towards Ai? Goodness, what's gotten into him?

In an analysis I wrote sometime back, I wrote this must be the way he felt after Ai's death:

He hasn’t been able to move on at all. It’s like he was unable to take a single step forward from the moment Ai died. He’s probably been living with that kind of deep sorrow and despair, thinking he deserves to suffer as punishment, and he might have intentionally kept those feelings alive. That’s why I believe this character would’ve tried to undo the situation. To him, it’s as if time hasn’t passed at all… He just couldn’t accept Ai’s death, so he’d wish, even at the cost of anything, that it hadn’t happened, and maybe he wished he were dead instead of her. Without Ai, as the lyrics say in the song, he can't go on living. He doesn’t even want to live. If there had been any hope of saving her, I think he would’ve clung to it. If such a hope didn't exist, it would’ve been tough for him to hold on to these emotions for so long.

He really could not move on at all, huh...

But would he be worth sympathizing with or deserve some sort of pity if he only results to this... He's the one Ai loves and risked so much for, I really, really wanted that to be the case. Now I just don't know. Ai should smack him back to his senses if it is that he's lost it;

I really should give up on the idea that he wanted to bring Ai back to life at this point (even if that's what he wanted, I guess he's already crossed the line)

But why have lyrics like that in Mephisto, I wonder;; that song really ISN'T Aqua either. It's about wishing the dead back.

Hm.. It could be that he really did want her back but since that's what's impossible, he wanted to become like her by taking lives that he deems as valuable as Ai's and that really was all there is to it.

It'd be.. Sad if the guy Ai loved only amounts to this much though, I can sense his desperation and how significant Ai was to him, she really WAS his everything, but... That's not someone Ai should wish to save. He really should rot with all those lives he's taken(if he's ACTUALLY done so)so I wonder.

This turn of events would make sense and I'd have accepted it in one go if only 153-154 did not exist, so I really have to wonder what the author wants to do with that... Man, he seems too far gone repair,

REALLY!! Maybe he's really possessed and needs to undergo Misogi you know?? Sarutahiko is THE symbol of misogi.. Involves salt and water -_-)

Mephisto and Fatal really turned out to be his song!! I believe so? Because Aqua is not about wanting to meet someone beyond death again?? He's not all about I can't bear to live without you, what should I use to fill in what's missing?

So is this all there is to those songs? They seem too strong to be left at this. I feel it should be displayed in a more obvious and significant way within the story if it's tied this strongly. I'd do that if I were to be a comic writer because it'd be a perfect opportunity to bring a catharsis, but again, who knows? Mhm, I'll just stand back and read a few more chapters.

Seriously why introduce the idea that he was as far as being "noble"? There is no point in that if he results to someone that can kill their own child for some ridiculous reason. And some parts of the lyrics always stood out so much for me... Is it really natural for your average person to say things like embaracing destiny or fallen-ness, reincarnation, forgotten who I lived as, etc? Become someone else? I wonder if there is point to hope, but I do really want some explanations regarding why those whole had to be mentioned.

Will then, till next chapter drops!