#montag: thread

[lotus-n-l0ve]

THREADS OF AFFECTION

— Biker!Ryomen Sukuna x Bestfriend!Female Reader

Sometimes, The One You Need Has Always Been There.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

*⁠.⁠✧ SYNOPSIS : After a rough experience with your boyfriend, you turn to your best friend Sukuna. As the night goes on words unravel. The tension between you two grows and everything lay in your hand. But one thing for sure—Sukuna will always be there for you, no matter what.

*⁠.⁠✧ WARNINGS & TAGS : No cheating, bestfriend!sukuna, one sided pining, almost rape, traumatizing elements, vulgar language, confession, 3k words.

*⁠.⁠✧ NOTE FROM LOTUS : O my gosh! I'm so excited. I'm back in my Sukuna brain riot days. He is all I'm thinking about nowadays. Also, always remember that unless it's an explicit "yes", it can't be counted as consent.

*⁠.⁠✧ — NAVIGATION // JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

➥ THREADS OF AFFECTION : THE MONTAGE

DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. MINORS DNI, IF YOU DO THEN IT'S YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Sukuna’s towering body pushed the blondie against the sink, his lips locked with her in a fiery battle, fighting for dominance. Their hands roamed all over each other's body, desperate to get rid of any article of clothing. Even the biggest earthquake or tsunami could not stop him from getting any release tonight. Nothing but the familiar ringtone of piano that he set specifically for you could get in his way.

Sukuna pulled out the phone faster than he could blink, ignoring the whine of the very high and wasted blondie who's name he didn't even bother to remember, Sukuna slid the accept icon across the screen and pressed the cold phone close to his ear.

“Hello?” Sukuna said as he waited for any response but was only met with silence.

“Suku—” Before the blondie could speak, his hand slammed on her palm, forcing her to keep quiet. Her weak punches did little to no damage to Sukuna.

“S-Sukuna…” the trembling voice of yours from the other side of the call threw him over the edge. His eyes darkened and eyebrows frowned, “Where are you?”

After a few seconds of silence you spoke again, “I'm….. I'm outside of Ryle’s house.”

“I'm coming.” Sukuna cut the call and strode out of the party house, ignoring the angry calls, telling him to go back.

The black yzf-r1 cut through the wind. It took Sukuna approximately 10 minutes to get to your location. Even from far away he could see you sitting on the sidelines, knees pulled to your chest, restless sobs eruption from your chest. His bike stopped in front of you. Crouching down in front of you, he cupped your cheeks in his warm hands and raised your head up.

“What happened?” Sukuna asked as he whipped your cheeks only for them to get wet the next second.

“Kuna.” You broke into another feat of breakdown. The words coming out of your mouth sounded like only nonsense.

“Hush, calm down.” He pulled you in his arms. Sturdy fingers running through your hair, providing solace for you, “Follow my breath, come on.”

Your breath aligned with his and finally your speeding heart came to a steady pace. Sukuna broke the hug and whipped your cheeks clean again.

His hold on your face didn't release, “Now tell me what happened?”

You recalled how you ended up here. ‘Little miss virgin’ is what your friends called you. Heck! Even the whole school called you that. It's not like you didn't want to have sex. You just never had the right opportunity for it. Random hook-ups were not your thing. You wanted your first time to be with a special someone.

That's where Ryle came into the picture. He was your seatmate in English class. Because of his continued bad grades Mr. Smith asked you to tutor him in exchange for extra points in the final semester. He was a nice sweet guy who always made you laugh and thus you gave him a chance when he proposed to you.

Well, he was not such a nice guy after all. A month of dating, Ryle was very clear about intimacy. He wanted to have sex with you, he brought up that topic quite often and after a month of thinking you finally prepared yourself to lose your v-card. And that night was tonight.

Ryle was very excited and the big grin on his face on the way to his house made it very clear. You were barely inside the house when his lips attacked yours, catching you off-guard. Your hands, as if instinctively grabbed his shoulders to push him away but his hands on your waist pinned you to the door.

Panic flooded in your heart. Everything felt rushed. You thought you would have enough time to prepare yourself while he took a shower but now you wanted to bolt out of there. Your view hazed and everything became blurry. When you were on the brink of passing out, then did Ryle pull back but dived right down your neck.

“Ryle, stop. Stop it.” Your voice was close to yelling.

Ryle paid no mind to your protest. Placing wet kisses down your neck that felt like a burning rod was touching your skin.

“RYLE, STOP!” You pushed him with all of your strength.

Ryle stumbled back and hit his head on the wall. A painful grunt came out of his mouth as he clutched his head. Guilt filled you in as you quickly rushed to his side.

“Are you okay? I'm so sorr—” tried to grab his hand only for him to jerk your hand away.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck was that?” Ryle shouted on top of his lungs.

‘I’m s-so sorry…..” your voice trembled.

Ryle took a deep breath, standing up straight, “Okay, it's okay. It's your first time so I understand. Let's continue.”

Ryle grabbed both sides of your face and kissed you again only for you to avoid it and step back.

“Ryle, how about we stop today. I feel a little tired.”

And with each word the smile on his face wavered till it faded into the darkness. You didn't like the look in his eyes, the negative feeling. The Ryle you knew was always so nice to you so his next action came as a heartbreaking shock to you.

His hands gripped your arms with so much strength, his nails dug into your skin, as he shouted at you, “Are you fucking with me right now, Y/N? I didn't put up with you all these days only for you to chicken out and stop me from getting my fun.”

“R-Ryle, you are h-hurting me.” Tears pricked your eyes.

“And you are annoying me. Did you think I ran around you like a dog for nothing huh? Fuck! The least you can do is shut up and take it.”

You didn't like this Ryle. He scared you, suffocated you with fear. His words sent you in a spiral of thoughts. The guy in front of you was nothing but a potential rapist.

In fear, words spouted out of your mouth like a fountain, “Ryle, let me go right now. Otherwise Sukuna will hear about this and you and I both know that you will not like what comes next.”

You looked straight into his eyes, daring him to continue with his absurd act. You could tell, he had more to say but only the name of Sukuna was enough to evoke terror in his heart. No one in their right mind would like to be on his bad side. His personality may have subdued now but his chaotic past personality was well known to everyone. Not to mention his status as the heir of Lumino Corp.

Finally Ryle released you but not without a hurtful shove. He went up the stairs muttering, “Get the fuck out of my house.”

You didn't need to be told twice.

“That damn fucker!” Sukuna jumped up running towards the front door, with the intention of killing, you were sure of.

You hurriedly blocked his way, wrapping your arm around his huge torso, “Wait Sukuna, he is not alone.”

That's when Sukuna heard the indecent noises coming from the house. Sukuna tried to get out of your hold, his jaw locked in a clench, “Even more reasons to end that fucker.”

Your arms only became more firm around him, “No, let's go home. I don't want to be here, I'm not feeling very good.”

Sukuna felt a debate in his heart before he finally took your adequately smaller hand in his and brought you to the parked beast of a bike. Your feelings were way more important than breaking that prick’s nose at the moment. Putting his helmet on you he buckled it tight. His body defending you against the seer hits of wind. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and forehead resting on his back as the night played in your head like a movie.

“I didn't put up with you all these days only for you to chicken out and stop me from getting my fun.” was what he said. You wonder if everything was fake. From him being interested in the same subject as you to the same food. All the times he called you late into the night only to hear your voice to getting you coffee every morning. Maybe, everything was fake.Your arms tightened around his waist, the only source of comfort for you, now and forever.

Sukuna’s apartment building, which turned into your hideout over the years, came into sight. Sukuna parked his bike in the underground garage. You didn’t feel like moving but still reluctantly got down from the bike, followed by Sukuna. He led you to the elevator and then to his apartment on the 17th floor.

You found yourself sitting on the gray couch in the living room as Sukuna rummaged through the fridge, “Want something to drink.”

“Anything will do.” You replied as you fidgeted with the blanket on your lap.

Sukuna came back to the living room, placing a can of matcha milk shake as he settled on the couch beside you with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. You picked up the can, taking sips of your drink.

The two of you sat in silence for a long time. Sukuna was bad with words, comforting someone was not his forte but that's what you liked. The comforting silence with him. He let you pick what wanted to do instead of forcing.

It was a quarter till an hour when all your resolve broke and a waterfall of tears ran down your cheeks without break, painful sobbs erupting from your heart. Sukuna silently pulled your head in his chest, his hand running through your head in gentle strokes.

You let all the agony out that you had been holding inside since the moment you went to Ryle’s house. You felt used, as if you are nothing worth other than your body. All the lies of Ryle kept floating in your mind.

“God! I'm so stupid.” You almost whimpered saying those words.

His hand stopped midway in your hair before resuming, “Stop, cry all you want but don't you dare degrade yourself for a lowlife like him.”

“I don't know what to do. Today was supposed to be so special but it turned into a disaster all because I'm such a coward.” Your voice trembled with each word.

“I said stop.” Sukuna held your shoulders and pushed you away from him. You saw an unexplainable fury in his eyes that you knew wasn't directed towards you.

His eyes softened as they stared at your watery ones, “Ai, stop. These things don't happen like that. I know I should be the last one to say this but..”

He cupped your cheeks, bringing your face closer, “Sex is not something to be rushed. If you had gone on with him then I know damn well he would have hurt you. That prick would have made you hate sex or any kind of intimacy.”

You stared into his eyes, heart throbbing because of the intensity in his eyes and the utter sincerity in his voice. It made you want to cry even more because—

“Why couldn't it be you? Gosh! I wish it was you. But it's not possible.” You were about to break into another fit of cry but his next words shocked you to core.

“Do you want me to be? You know……. I'll do anything if you tell me, Ai. Anything.” His thumb on your cheek rubbed back and forth, letting you know he was okay with any decision you make.

You wanted to believe that Sukuna uttered those words as a dear friend of you but the look in his eyes made it so hard to not see the obvious meaning behind his words.

“What?” Your voice barely escaped, a mix of disbelief and vulnerability. You tried to pull away, but Sukuna's hands held you firmly in place, his eyes unwavering.

“We can take things slow. Or you can take the lead. Do whatever you want, I won't say a word.” Words sprouted out of his mouth like an indomitable waterfall and it made him want to slam his head on the wall and black out if he could just stop his damn mouth.

Maybe it was the desperation that was increasing day by day, when he knew he would give you the world if you asked but it's not him that you chose. It was that lowlife jerk who only ever thought with his dick. Sukuna resented those days when you used to talk about him with stars in your eyes, completely oblivious to the turmoil in his heart. His heart ached like hell.

The words hung in the air, the tension between the two of you shifting. The world outside his apartment seemed to stop as you processed what he had just said. Your heart hammered in your chest, every inch of your body aware of how close you were to crossing a line that you had never considered before.

You swallowed hard, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, the weight of his presence making you feel more vulnerable than you ever had before. The reality of what he was suggesting didn’t quite settle in yet. Was he serious? Was he offering something you couldn’t even allow yourself to imagine?

“I’m not saying this to confuse you,” he continued, his voice low and steady. “But I don’t want you to think you’re alone in this. Not when I’m here, not when I can help you.”

The softness of his words mixed with the roughness of his usual demeanor was enough to make you pause. You had always known Sukuna as someone who didn’t easily show affection or care. But in this moment, as he wiped the last of your tears away, his face softened in a way you had never seen before.

Your heart fluttered, an unexplainable feeling swarming your chest. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the fact that the person who had always been there for you, who you trusted above all others, was now offering you something you couldn’t have imagined in your wildest dreams.

But then, the fear and uncertainty crept in again. You thought of Ryle, his words, his actions. You thought about the vulnerability you had felt tonight, how everything had gone wrong, and the weight of what had just happened still clung to you like a heavy burden. Could you trust anyone again? Could you trust Sukuna with something as important as this?

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice trembling once more. “This is all so much. I don’t even know what to think right now.”

Sukuna's face softened even more, and for a moment, he just held you in his arms, letting you feel the comfort of his presence. He didn’t push you. He didn’t rush you. He simply allowed you the space to breathe, to feel, to make the decision for yourself, without any pressure.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Sukuna said, his voice tender. “Take your time. Just know that I’m here for you, no matter what. You don’t owe anyone anything—least of all a bastard like Ryle. Not after what he did. It's only you who matters. Not Ryle. Not me. No-one else.”

His words hit you like a wave, washing over you with a strange sense of relief. It felt like you could finally breathe again. No longer trapped by someone else’s expectations, no longer bound by the need to please or perform for someone else’s desires.

“You’re safe here,” Sukuna added quietly. “Always.”

And like all the times, you believed him. The weight of the night and everything that had happened finally caught up with you. In Sukuna's arms, surrounded by the warmth of his presence, you felt a strange sense of peace that you hadn’t experienced in hours, maybe even longer. His heartbeat was steady against your ear, the rhythm soothing you like a lullaby. Your breathing slowed, and your body relaxed in a way that felt almost foreign, as if you hadn’t allowed yourself to truly rest for so long.

Sukuna didn’t move, didn’t try to disturb you. He simply held you, his strong arms wrapped around you protectively, grounding you in the moment. There were no expectations, no words needed. It was just the two of you, sharing the silence, the comfort of each other’s presence.

And then, without even realizing it, you drifted into sleep.

In his embrace, you felt safe. Safe from the world, safe from the turmoil and confusion that had plagued your mind. You felt as though, for once, the world had stopped spinning, and you could finally breathe without the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Sukuna’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, seeing the vulnerability and exhaustion in your face as you slept. He gently adjusted you in his arms, careful not to disturb you, making sure you were as comfortable as possible. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though it was a rare and almost imperceptible expression. He didn’t need to say anything. He knew you needed this—peace, quiet, and the reassurance that, for now, you didn’t have to face everything on your own.

As the night wore on, Sukuna stayed by your side, watching over you. The world outside seemed distant, like it no longer mattered in the face of what was unfolding between the two of you. The only thing that mattered, in that moment, was that you were safe, that you were in his arms, and that he would protect you from whatever came next.

The events of the night could wait. Right now, it was just you and him, and for once, that was enough.

LIKED IT? THEN PLEASE LEAVE A LIKE, REBLOG & COMMENT. IT WOULD MEAN A LOT AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE LIKE THESE. THANK YOU ♡

© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarise any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

[nightrae13]

Our wifi was cut-off for weeks, so I was late in some Comic Bang episodes.. I'm on episode 22 now, and excuse me, I want to cry because after more than a decade, there's now a Nozaki who was emotionally aware of his feelings😭😭❤️❤️ Grabe yung kilig sa montage putek HAHAHAHAH

[theglassesgirl]

Lazarus continues to be a surface level faux intellectual disappointment because we have spent the entire season with them insisting that Skinner was a grand humanitarian and philanthropist so the likelihood of a child being shot down in front of him is statistically greater than anyone else's in the world but your telling me that a little boy in a very nice airport in a first world country was what broke him can we wrap this up??????

There's other things you can watch

[francaoliveira]

🦜ꜰʀᴀɴᴄᴀ ᴏʟɪᴠᴇɪʀᴀ & ᴀʟᴇᴄ ꜰʟʏɴɴ

Franca, admittedly, wasn't much of a drinker. But, after getting into it with Beatriz earlier at the sanctuary in front of the employees and volunteers (and even a few guests), she needed to get away. Texting Phoebe to see if she could meet up with her, she tried to figure out which bar could be the best option. Aurora's was great, but more for when she's in a better mood; The Labyrinth was too flashy and she didn't understand the references too much, nor was she really into fantasy and mythology; Mic Drop!, well, she hates her singing voice (despite being told that it was good), so that's not an option; She will keep avoiding O'Shea's, the place of an awkward blind date that ended horribly a year ago, like the plague; Static was loud, very loud; The Vault wasn't too bad, but she didn't feel like dancing; and then... The Pour House. Fuck, that place kind of scared her, always has. She's rarely, if at all, has come here. But... If she keeps her head down and has a few drinks, maybe she won't be bothered. Fortunately, it didn't seem too busy (or scary) tonight. Sitting at the bar, she'd been about to order a drink when she saw the bartender. "H-Hey," she breathed out. Recognizing her old classmate. "I... didn't know that you work here."

🦥ᴡʜᴏ: @alecflynn

🦥ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ; ᴡᴇᴀᴠᴇʀ ʀɪᴅɢᴇ

🦥ᴡʜᴇɴ: ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 16ᴛʜ, 2024

[rawliverandgoronspice]

ohhh I managed to convince my potato laptop that it was indeed capable of running clip studio paint let's fucking goooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[badrcputation]

— "Even with my perfect memory, I cannot know everything, dearest. This is why," he pauses as he puts a hand on Murasaki's shoulder,

"I need you to play the role of an investor. You'll head in with the pretense of striking a deal, and you'll meet the CEO inside. I just need a little stroll through his reel of memories."

@barxlupin - Murasaki // sc.

[lazysoulwriter]

his little spot - pedro pascal ── .✦

requested! thank you. content: fluff, domestic softness, playful teasing, fan reactions, kisses (so many kisses)

---

you noticed it the first time he spent the night — not in a just hooked up way, but in a he stayed for coffee and let you touch his face in the morning light way.

that tiny bald patch on his beard, right under his bottom lip, shaped like a heart if you tilted your head a little.

“what’s this?” you asked, brushing your thumb over it gently.

“hmm?” he mumbled, sleepy and shirtless, eyes half-lidded as he sipped your terrible coffee. “oh. that? stubborn patch. never grows in.”

you leaned in, kissed it once.

“what was that for?”

you smiled. “felt like it needed some love.”

he blinked, then smiled so wide it made your stomach flip.

it became a thing.

a quiet ritual. your lips would find it in the morning, when he was barely awake. or when he was nervous before a press event. or when he came home tired, arms falling around your waist, forehead to yours — you’d tilt his chin up and kiss that tiny little bald spot.

“you know it’s for you,” he’d murmur sometimes, eyes soft. “mother nature left a note: this patch is reserved exclusively for my girl’s kisses.”

“so what you’re saying is… it’s your built-in kiss button?”

“exactly,” he nodded. “you press it, and i power down into cuddle mode.”

you tested it. it worked every time.

and then the internet noticed.

someone posted a gif of you leaning in during a red carpet moment, whispering something in his ear — but sharp-eyed fans saw your lips brush the spot. and another gif. and another.

a fan account posted a thread titled: "that tiny bald spot on pedro’s beard: a love story"

“i think it’s shaped like a heart. don’t argue with me.” “she kisses it every chance she gets, i’m gonna cry.” “guys what if it’s their version of a wedding ring i’m gonna lose it.”

you showed pedro one of the edits — a soft montage of all the times your lips pressed to that patch, set to “the only exception” by paramore.

he choked on his drink, snorted, then got weirdly emotional about it.

“they get it,” he whispered, hugging you from behind. “they really get it.”

one night, after a long press day, you curled into bed together. you kissed the spot. slow. soft.

“love you,” you said, lips still resting there.

he sighed, happy and relaxed under your touch. “that spot was made for you.”

you smiled against his skin. “i know.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

---

taglist: @sarahhxx03 @lloydmustache @lolareadsimagines @greenwitchfromthewoods @silksepia @pascalswiftie @itstokyo-cos @mani-pedro @llsister @authorbriannarae13 @introvrtedjellyfish @aj0elap0l0gist @spencercmlover @cixrosie @cherrqbaby @cup-half-full-of-anxiety @joelmillerpascal @freakbobcult @sunlightpleasure @barnes70stark @mooniscrying @ohnaurshayla @croissantbakerylws @nellispunk @kasienka @taylorswiftsrep-blog @emerencedaily @byzyz @noovaarq @kristend512 @alltounwell @libbyaller @beaagiannelli @broad-shouldrs @oceanmcu @kysosa @melloispunk @jollycupcakeblizzard @angvlicsoulll @needz1nk @daddypascal17 @agustdpeach @mrsbilicablog @k4t13ispunk @hotdadlvr95 @lnnysnts @pedropascalfan221 @queenofklonnie22 @christinamadsen @ilovecheriies @stvr-bloom

---

[mmrydirector]

— "Seeing as I can't provide a reason for my lack of shame... ah, well, you could also consider that a 'character quirk', wouldn't you say?"

"Talking about one hole with you is already one too many. But since we're here," and he was going to regret this, "why is that a plot hole exactly?"

[lotus-n-l0ve]

THREADS OF AFFECTION : THE MONTAGE

— Biker!Ryomen Sukuna x Bestfriend!Female Reader

Sometimes, The One You Need Has Always Been There.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

*⁠.⁠✧ SYNOPSIS : After a rough experience with your boyfriend, you turn to your best friend Sukuna. As the night goes on words unravel. The tension between you two grows and everything lay in your hand. But one thing for sure—Sukuna will always be there for you, no matter what.

*⁠.⁠✧ WARNINGS & TAGS : No cheating, bestfriend!sukuna, biker! sukuna, one sided pining, almost rape, traumatizing elements, vulgar language, confession, friends to lovers, cuddle, hurt/comfort, fluff, university au, 6.7k words.

*⁠.⁠✧ — NAVIGATION // JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. MINORS DNI, IF YOU DO THEN IT'S YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

*⁠.⁠✧ — CHAPTERS・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

PART ONE

After a rough experience with your boyfriend, you turn to your best friend Sukuna. As the night goes on words unravel. The tension between you two grows and everything lay in your hand. But one thing for sure—Sukuna will always be there for you, no matter what.

PART TWO

The next morning of everything going down with Ryle, you find solace in Sukuna's arms. After a talk with Shoko, you realise how oblivious you were and come to accept your feelings for Sukuna.

© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarise any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

[rxzennia]

that faintly lingering sound of warmth

– inspired in song 

✎𓂃 the flame of love, rokudenashi. had my wisdom teeth pulled a week ago ughghghghghgghh anyways phainon phainon phainon phainonnnnnnn

in okhema, the sun never sets.

in okhema, people live in the blessings of the worldbearing titan.

in okhema, humanity's final bastion –

today, the dawn device still gives light to the holy city.

and in the unseen corners of amphoreus, the flame-chase journey continues.

"are you afraid?" phainon asks, gently but firmly squeezing your shoulder.

you shake your head. "no," you reply, yet you place your trembling hand over his. "when i'd chosen to follow the flame-chase, i'd made up my mind."

"i will be with you."

"i know," you say, again, "i'm not afraid."

he doesn't call you out, doesn't say anything else, silently standing by your side, until your hand ceases to shake. until you decide to pull your hand away. 

every expedition could very well be your last, every goodbye could very well be a farewell, such is the fate of the warriors fighting alongside the chrysos heirs. it doesn't matter where you fight your battles, it is all the same – treasure every encounter, every parting, every day that you breathe, for the uncertainty of tomorrow looms over everyone like a stormcloud.

in a world like this, where heroes die and leave behind tales of their brilliance, what do commoners leave? the chosen ones bleed gold and carve their lives into history, but what of the people? the unremarkable, the insignificant, the mundane, what of their tales? 

maybe someday, you will have your legends passed on in the highest honor, too. not as some famous hero of okhema, but simply…

as yourself. as the mundane, as the insignificant, as the unremarkable.

as someone who loves the eternal holy city as much as everyone else.

so you hold onto that fading thread of light, fingers curling around that formless string as you take your final breath. it's not the end, far from it – your story simply finds its final chapter here. you're not afraid, oddly, as you see your memories replay before your eyes in a messily cut montage. in fact, you feel warm, even as your body turns cold from the inside. the chrysos heirs will fulfill their prophecies, and a new dawn will surely come. 

"all shall bid farewell to one, and that person alone will witness the miracle."

if, at the end of this journey, you can look back and confidently say that you've lived…

if, when amphoreus enters era nova, you can finally dream of an endless tomorrow…

then "today" would've been worth it.

"see you tomorrow, phainon."

[pastafossa]

Thoughts on Matt's 'This all feels fake' line from the last DDBA episode and why it was a genius move

I've had a night to think and process the episode last night, and the more I think about it, the more I think that line was the absolute best way to go.

Obviously, spoilers ahead.

Let's set aside 'is the show good or bad' for a moment since everyone's vibing with it differently (we know where I stand, I'm happy and having a grand old time, but that's not important). Let's instead think about where Scardapane and the new writers found themselves when they were hired on to do the rewrites and reshooting.

Imagine being a cook. A good one. And someone comes to you, with an absolute dumpster fire of a cake. 'Hey man, we got the potluck in a few hours. It's really important there's a cake since it's someone's birthday. If you fix this, I'll let you bake the next one.'

Except the cake is a mess. Parts of it are burned, the flavor's all wrong, it's unfinished, and you have no idea why it's shaped the way it is.

You don't have the time or all the ingredients needed to entirely make a new cake. Your only option is to save what you can and cut off what you can't, and then build from there.

But how do you do that?

That's essentially where they were, writing-wise. The OG writers had created an absolute mess, something that didn't feel like Matt at all, something that had no respect for all of the lore and character building that came before. And it's definitely not the Netflix vibe show that Feige had asked for (which was why that team was fired, shocker). But reshooting the entire season would have thrown off the larger schedule, it would have required contract changes, and it'd be expensive as hell. That meant they had to use at least some of the footage that had already been shot, and build onto it rather than sweeping it away. But what do you do when the new footage you want to shoot has a very different vibe than the old footage? Especially when those two energies are very, very different?

Answer: you acknowledge it.

There's a technique in writing known as lampshade hanging, when instead of ignoring something that's implausible or weird, you point it out instead and move on, while also sometimes using it to advance the narrative. It's one of my favorite tropes! I love to use it, and I love to see it used.

Even better? They made it feel weird, which is something multiple people have brought up as a theory, this idea that it's intentional, and I agree with them. Even some of the teaser trailers before DDBA came out even played off of that feeling, Matt's voice hoarse and dark as a monologue while beneath his voice you get an eerily soundtracked montage of him going through his new 'normal' life day after day after day in a way that makes it clear this new life doesn't fit, and it never will.

I've been fascinated by how they've played it over this first season, both the writers and Charlie himself, using these jarring tonal differences to leave you intentionally unsettled. Sometimes it's done with music, like that early scene where Matt's getting ready for his day, clearly repressing and disassociating his way through life, all while more upbeat music is playing, or the slight alteration to our OG Daredevil theme. Sometimes it's a subtle pattern, these little ticks and tells from Charlie's portrayal - Matt always wearing his glasses even in softer scenes because he doesn't feel safe with these new people around him that are supposedly his friends, hell, even in his own apartment when he's entirely alone because it's not a home like his last place was.

And then there are moments like last night, when Matt literally came out and said it: this all feels fake sometimes. It's not my home. This isn't my life.

We know he doesn't belong there. And they managed to change the original story so that Matt? Matt knows that, too. He's known the entire time.

It weaves a thread through all the original footage, the tonal differences, and Matt's behavior. It's a thread that not only amounts to the new writers saying to us, the audience, 'trust us, we know,' but it's also one that reinforces this idea that Matt is literally just fucking faking it in the hopes that it will keep him away from Daredevil, in the hopes that he can be the man he thinks Foggy would have wanted. He's trying so hard to live that perfect, happy, wonderful life while repressing all of his trauma and depression and it's left him in this bizarre otherworld that he doesn't recognize. He's not himself. It grates on him every day.

And it makes that creeping darkness, that gritty reality, that dirt on his hands and the blood on his lips and his visceral screams all the more thrilling when it edges in, because that? That is the real Matt, his true self, the Devil tearing its way out of the prison he's trapped it in just long enough to bare its teeth and snap and bite before he forces it back into its cell.

And god does it feel real compared to the moments where Matt is just pretending this is all fine, all bright, all good.

I fucking love that they went in that direction. It's the best thing they could have done when locked into reusing the old footage which was different in tone than the Netflix vibe they want to bring back. It was always going to be jarring mashing both of them together. So they ran with it.

Like I said, I'm already really happy with DDBA. Some eps nailed it for me better than others (Ep 6 is just an absolute blast), but even when it gets a little rough, there's this sense of Scardapane and the new writers giving us a wink going, 'yup, we know. Just hang in there until we're not bound by old footage and we can take you on a fucking ride.'

They want what we want. And they're going to take us there. That line solidified it for me. I'm so fucking pumped for Season 2 when the chains are off and they're free to come out swinging.

Anyway thanks for coming to my rambling ted talk.

[badrcputation]

— The director sighs and shakes his head. "I suppose you and I just see the world differently. No point in trying to explain it over and over again, but... to put it simply- I have nothing but utmost faith in your character, Mr. Sunday."

He pats the halovian's shoulder as he straightens his stance. "In any case, if your arc on the universe's grand silver screens allows for a moment of respite, I know of a certain director who could use a brilliant lead actor such as yourself."

Thinking about it, he's had countless of scripts go through his hands, genres of all kind... what would be best suited for a fallen angel? "Someone with your looks, your grace, it'd be foolish to not consider an acting career. Or perhaps you'd be more suited to be a model. Trust me, dearest, I've been in the filmmaking business for quite a while. And I assure you, I know a star when I see one." Out of his coat's pocket, he slips a piece of paper and gently presses it against Sunday's chest.

"If you're interested, you should contact me. Or, even if you're not interested. Perhaps you and I could play the role of two romantic leads on their first date~" He chuckles. "I'm joking, of course." Or is he?

there's a vision in this madness? sunday blinks at that thought, if he was under ena's influence, he would of spat that out in a heartbeat, but he kept it wrapped inside. a gloved hand ran through his hair as he listened to his so called visions, unsure how to even feel about it all as his gaze averts again in a bit of nerves.

"is life to you just a series of possibilities defined by fictional tales seen in movies? you memokeepers truly are an unique bunch, but i assure you, i left the 'stage' long ago. i am not my sister, i am not made for grandness, i simply prefer to support those who need me." an insistence from the harmony emanator who simply claims to pathstride that path. though he couldn't deny the relief he felt hearing someone else claim he can make the journey of redemption happen.

but to hear his story intrigues the illustrious mr reca of all people, the wings flinch slightly in shock as he looks at the other properly. "i... i see... well, i am glad it was entertaining for you."

[koyagifs]

one last time

pairing: yunho x reader au: 9th member | idol | poly genre: angst with comfort word count: 1.2k synopsis: you release a song for every member on their birthday while they are away in the military warning(s): unrealistic

You smiled at the crowd, tears stinging your eyes as the reality hit you — you had just sold out your first solo tour. It was a dream you could hardly believe was real. You had just finished singing Utopia, your voice still echoing in the venue, unaware that Yunho was watching from the crowd, a wide smile on his face, the lightiny glowing in his hand.

"ATINY, how are we feeling tonight?" you asked, pulling out your earpieces. The roar of the crowd hit you all at once, sending a shiver down your spine as you took in a deep breath, soaking in the moment.

"As you guys know… it’s Yunho-oppa’s birthday today."

“And he’s not here to celebrate with us, unfortunately,” you added, voice trembling slightly, “but just know — he loves you all. So much.” A soft sniffle escaped before you could stop it.

The crowd let out a collective aww, which made you laugh through your tears. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, trying to compose yourself. A small cough escaped as you raised the mic again, your voice steadier now.

“So… I prepared a little birthday gift for him,” you said with a gentle smile. “And I want you guys to tell me what you think, okay?”

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, a wave of excitement rolling through the venue. You smiled softly, then gave a small nod as the lights dimmed and the stage faded to black.

You made your way to your cue spot, heart pounding in your chest. Sliding your earpieces back in, you took a deep breath, grounding yourself in the darkness.

For just a moment, it was quiet — the kind of stillness that feels like the breath before a confession.

Then the music began.

Soft, intimate piano chords filled the air, and the sound of the crowd faded into a hush. You clutched the microphone tightly, grounding yourself as your heart pounded in your chest. The first verse left your lips like a secret finally spoken aloud, your voice full of emotion, fragile but unwavering.

Behind you, the screen flickered to life — a warm montage of shared moments: you and Yunho laughing during rehearsals, playful glances in interviews, quiet behind-the-scenes clips, and lingering hugs after long performances. The kind of moments fans had always noticed... but never quite had words for.

You took a shaky breath and began to sing.

"One last time, I need to be the one who takes you home..."

The chorus hit like a wave, and the entire arena swayed with you, some fans mouthing along through tears even though they were hearing the song for the first time.

In the crowd, Yunho stood frozen, the Lightiny in his hand forgotten. His eyes were wide, lips parted, chest rising unevenly — as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. The emotions in your voice cut straight through him, threading between every beat of his heart.

The crowd erupted into cheers as you soared into the high note, your voice unwavering and full of raw, unfiltered emotion. But Yunho barely heard them. His world had narrowed to just you — standing on that stage, bathed in golden light, singing a song that felt like it had been written from the very center of your soul.

It was like he had fallen in love all over again.

The way your voice cracked slightly on the bridge, the way you clutched the mic like it was the only thing keeping you grounded — it was all so you. Vulnerable. Brave. Beautiful.

Yunho’s heart ached in the best and worst way.

He wished the others were here to witness this moment, to see you shine the way only you could. But he knew — you’d planned this. You told them to come to certain dates, spaced out, quiet and private. It was so like you to give each of them their own space in your spotlight.

Still, tonight was his. And he knew it.

He didn’t look away from you, not even when the final note faded and the lights dimmed just enough to soften the edges of the stage. The crowd erupted into cheers, some chanting your name, others openly crying — but Yunho just stood there, eyes locked on yours, like you were the only one in the room.

And when you finally looked out, eyes scanning the audience as you caught your breath…

You found him.

You smiled through your tears, the sight of him grounding you like nothing else. With a soft laugh, you wiped your cheeks, stepped forward into the spotlight one last time, and brought the mic to your lips.

“Happy birthday, Yunho-oppa,” you said, voice thick with emotion but laced with the kind of warmth that only belonged to him.

The crowd cheered again, but all you saw was the way his lips curled into that familiar, gentle smile — the one that always felt like home.

Blowing a kiss to the crowd still chanting your name, you smiled through the shimmer of tears and waved one last time before the stage platform lowered you beneath the floor. As soon as your feet hit solid ground, you were surrounded — your team clapping, cheering, offering hugs and congratulations as they guided you toward your dressing room.

But none of it truly registered.

Not until you opened the door.

There he was.

The second your eyes met his — tall frame, warm smile, Lightiny still in hand — your breath hitched. Without thinking, you ran straight into his arms, leaping up as he caught you effortlessly. His soft chuckle rumbled in your ear as he spun you around, grounding you in the kind of warmth only he could give.

The tears you’d held back through the entire performance finally broke free.

“You came! You actually came!” you cried, clinging to him tightly.

Yunho didn’t trust his voice, so he just nodded, arms wrapped around you like he never wanted to let go. His own eyes shimmered as he pressed his cheek to your hair, breathing in the moment, the relief, you.

“You think I was going to miss your first solo concert?” Yunho asked, gently cupping your tear-streaked cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the remaining drops. “You have no idea how jealous the others are, by the way.”

You sniffled, laughing as your nose scrunched adorably. The smile you gave him could’ve lit up the room. “Well… if you hadn’t caught on,” you said playfully, “it’s because I wrote songs for all of you — for your birthdays.” You shook your head, eyes glimmering. “You have no idea how hard I had to fight to convince them to let me tour nearly the whole year.”

Yunho blinked at you, then laughed, rubbing a hand over his face like he was trying to believe you were real. “Oh, Hongjoong is livid that they actually agreed,” he said, voice laced with fond disbelief. “Why would you do that to yourself? You’re going to tire yourself out, baby.”

His voice softened at the last word, concern bleeding into every syllable. His hands never left your face, holding you as gently as if you were made of glass.

But you just leaned into his touch, whispering,

“Because I love you all. And if I can't be with you every day... I’ll sing for you instead.”

[eddiegettingshot]

even with the clear last-minute hotshots shit and the weird bump in the road that was the masks addition/confessions/no place like home switching etc. 8a was literally good. then you remember 809/810 were literally completed before that hiatus they just decided to rip them up and reshoot buck and eddie’s stuff. then 811 introduced this thread that for they’re trying to make you believe doesn’t need to be picked up again, so in 911 world all of that happened just so it could Happen (the ungenerous interpretation being that it was anti-fan service, which is awesome because “responding” to the audience in that way isn’t any better than just doing what they want). then 812 was supposed to be totally different except they chopped that up too and replaced it with a 7 minute uber montage and introduced A NEW CONFLICT between chris and eddie instead of discussing the existing one. after this they filmed killing bobby. but then they ripped up 814 too and inserted some shit ass episode in between that did absolutely nothing for the plot. and then gave bobby the most baffling memorial episode possible. then a moment of sheer brilliance in 817 where all the characters got Something to chew on. and then the finale, which they finished filming nine (9) days before it aired, said “remember everything you just watched? because we don’t <3” and who knows what else they were tearing up behind the scenes. i mean this is just awesome.

[badrcputation]

— "I understand you'd want something more lighthearted... but I already have a script written down, thrice revised and edited. I would be honored if you could look it over for me." An wide, unassuming smile spreads across his face as he hands over a rather thick stack of papers.

@pocketfulofgalaxies - Robin // sc.

[muunsick]

Peeping where they ought not to peep wasn't exactly a habit of theirs, but there was little else to entertain oneself with out here, so naturally, their eyes fell to Ceres. They stared, just a few moments past appropriate, and realized a hair too late that they were dangerously close to committing a faux pas. They had caught the flash of a pale chest, speckled with dots, shimmering with rain water.

Eden suddenly found great interest in the rock at their feet.

"Well, your sense of direction is probably better than mine." they muttered, itching passively at the marred skin on their cheek. "I ah—was planning on going home, once the rain stopped, but I don't know if that's a great idea right now." Eden gestured awkwardly around their eye. Even now, they still felt the discomforting wriggle of their slimy stowaway, drawn towards its sibling, resting in the skull of the woman beside them.

"I say we stick to your plan. Reach a settlement, fill up our bellies, and hope we're lucky enough to find a solution to our little problems." One could hardly classify this as a plan. It lacked structure and left too many things up to chance. Eden's shoulders sagged, weighed down with both the soggy clothing on their back and the ever dwindling chance they'll come out of this unscathed. They were never good at improvising. Hells, they were quite talentless overall. The weakest link, a ball and chain on Ceres' ankle, but they'll play the part of a dependable ally. Fake it till' you make it, eh?

"I'd hate to get more water in my shoes, but maybe it'd be good to keep moving? While we still have daylight." they suggested, quite reluctantly. "I … really don't want to be out and about past dark."

The pale woman pulled off her soaked jacket, trying to squeeze out the water. The cloth clung stubbornly to her skin, and while she wasn’t particularly bothered by the sensation, the cold was starting to seep in, and she hated the cold.

“A beautiful name,” Ceres mumbled, a hint of a smile on her lips. She was confident enough in her abilities to handle Eden if she posed a threat. The thought of throwing Eden into the rain to cool her down or fleeing like a startled cat brought a chuckle to her lips. She imagined the tiefling hissing at her, water dripping from her horns.

Eden’s question lingered in the air, and Ceres found it hard to answer. Which direction was she heading? She was following the path the energy called her to, a tug she couldn’t quite explain. She shrugged her shoulders. “I followed the path and hoped that the fresh water here meant there had to be a settlement nearby. If not for a healer,” she added, acknowledging Eden's point that not just any healer could remove the tadpole, “then at least to stock up on food, find out where exactly I am, and progress from there.”

She threw her jacket over a dry branch, at least hoping it would dry somewhat. She began to unbutton her blouse, the cold air biting at her skin. The tree was too small to set up her tent, and any attempt would result in everything getting drenched. She glanced back at Eden, the rain still pouring down around them. “What about you?” she asked, genuinely curious.