#what a man ugh his mind

[varggies]

Hit a point where I'm going through the Cullen Critical tag on tumblr cause I really like Cullen, but in a fucked up way and I hate that the writers overlooked some of the more egregious things this guy did (or, more accurately did *not* do) while serving in Kirkwall

Mostly i think im mad that the writers fucked up the chance to take a guy who spent a long time turning a blind eye to and justifying a fucked up system of abuse, and actually have him held accountable for it

Instead of him just. Feeling kind of bad about it but not actually addressing it in a real way?

I mean, dont get me started on how Inquisition fumbled pretty much everything that happened in DA2 (the fact that there's no option for Hawke, Varric, or even the Inquisitor to agree with what Anders did? You can either condemn it or like... waffle around it?), but like. Cullen was actively looking the other way when Mages were getting whipped in the streets, SA'd and fucking lobotomised

The templars turned Kirkwall into a police state by the end of it, and all the writers have him saying is like "man, i feel bad :("

Cant believe im saying this, but Blackwall actually does have a better redemption arc than Cullen

I just

There is gold. Right there

They had a fucked up guy and completely squandered the opportunity to have him SO fucked up about the shit he's done

They still could've had their poor little meow meow of a commander! Just make him so much more fucked up about his mistakes man!

But we already know bioware is full of cowards so im pretty much talking to the wind here

[jinikaris]

felix 🫧 update // 50125

[gingermintpepper]

In light of my recent Asclepius and Apollo musings, I feel like it's the perfect time to post this, actually.

How do you build a human being? 

Bold question. Foolish question. But a question it is all the same. 

The memory of his father’s consternated expression is still bright behind his eyes, that unusually furrowed brow, the tension in his gentle jaw. He didn’t falter in his setting of Asclepius’ broken shin, hands perpetually steady and sure, but he hesitated for a conspicuously long moment as though reluctant to give an answer. In this body, he resembled Orpheus something fierce. The same flaxen curls of his hair, the same delicate eyelashes that stand stark against the dark brown of his skin. Often Asclepius wondered if his elder brother was nothing but a body built to suit their father’s preferences. The subtle wrinkle of skin around their eyes when they smiled was the same, and the steadiness of their hands, the soothing power of their presence. 

And Orpheus did not bleed like Asclepius did. The blood in Asclepius’ veins were as red as any human’s, any mortal’s, but Orpheus seemed not to bleed at all. Even when he’d suffered the same fall down the crumbling cliff as Asclepius had. Even when his skirts had ripped and jagged stone sliced into his shanks. 

Even so, Orpheus was unmistakably alive. His eyes were rich with grief fresher than any blood spilt from the worst of Asclepius’ wounds, his counsel too, was tempered with the wisdom of a life well lived. So even at the apex of his most perfect, inhuman beauty, Asclepius never once doubted that his brother was a human being. Just that he was more divine construct than flesh and blood. Just that their father had built for himself a son that would not break as easily as all the others. 

His father stayed silent for so long that Asclepius assumed it would be one of the million questions that would go unanswered. Then, just when the last of his bandages had been wrapped - 

“A human body is easy to build,” he’d had that faraway look on his face as he spoke, like he was speaking to the horizon. Or a version of Asclepius that was not quite here. Such things happened from time to time. “Any flesh would do. From men, or animals, or even monsters. Any flesh would do.” Their gazes had locked then, and Asclepius would never forget the flecks of gold which swirled in his father’s blue eyes, the weight of divine words rattling at the boundaries of their mortal apparatus, “But the breath of life, a living soul? That is beyond your means as a mortal man. You ought never seek it.” 

(Asclepius would remember these words when he revives a man for the first time at the age of nineteen. He’s surprised to find that his father is wrong for once. Souls are easy to source when they’re already eager to return to their mound of flesh.) 

[hooked-on-elvis]

[gayvampyr]

i actually cannot stand xander like i don’t know if we’re supposed to like him or sympathize with him but he is an absolutely insufferable character and every word out of his mouth makes me want to turn him into compost

[jirachuuu]

I think they’re neat lol

[eepybogboy]

same energy

[adwox]

drawn to you

[sheila--e]

it was a small passing comment in the story but when its mentioned Sheila saw her dog get beaten to death when she was a kid and it made her feel like humankind was just like that (+ her sister's murder afterwards cementing that worldview)... augh.

[frigidlyauthorial]

so sleepy tired so to keep myself awake I’m mentally picking apart every plot hole one miraculous ladybug.

[todayisafridaynight]

One of my fave jackets is this green jacket with a fur hood im wearin rn because 1.) its green 2.) my dad gave it to me 3.) it reminds me of saejima. Who also reminds me of my dad

[nandorisms]

My eternal sunshine of the spotless mind Nandermo fic lives rent-free in my head.

Would love to write it someday.

Would love to feel the urge to write again someday 😩

[abyssalpriest]

God I could and should write a whole fucking book by the end of this life here on Lev and his symbols

ill write it then burn it before anyone else gets a copy. or i wont. im supposed to be helping him this incarnation here to get a better anchor in this plane so maybe it would help more than itd be weird - im just getting from him the energy of "yeah no people already effectively have these things, people on my plane already know me inside and out to an extensive degree, may as well have it here too" you know. fair

[pankomako]

sometimes i think about interactions boat and i have had and things he's said to/about me over the years and it makes me feel as though i must occupy some little space in his heart. like i live in his mind rent-free the way he does for me, although not nearly to the same extent lmao.

speak of the goddamn devil i just got a steam notification he's playing tf2

anyway i never thought i'd have that kind of effect on a person, much less my favorite content creator. but it sure appears to be that way, and idk. it makes me feel special. warms my heart n all that :)

[prettyngeto]

historical hoe || ryomen sukuna x f! reader

summary: 10/10 cuddle sesh ruined when you remember your man was basically for the streets in his past life. ugh, what a whore.

content: fluff, established relationship, my boy sukuna is just confused, crackfic?? idk i might make this my brand atp 😭 word count: 1k

main masterlist || jjk masterlist

It started off as a nice lil cosy night. You were nestled in between Sukuna’s legs, the low hum of a movie playing in the background - neither of you were really paying attention. His fingers lazily traced circles into your hip, his chest rising and falling against your back. Realistically, you should’ve taken advantage of this rare occasion, you should’ve been basking in this softness. Because everything was fine. Perfect, even.

Until it wasn’t. 

The sudden thought hits you like a truck. How dare he? 

You stiffen instantly, expression souring as your brows knit together, lips pushing into a pout. A loud, frustrated sigh escapes you, making your displeasure very clear. Sukuna notices the dramatic shift in your mood - because, although he won’t admit it, he pays very close attention to you. His fingers still, eyes flicking down to you. “The hell’s wrong with you?”

Silence.

“Oi.”

More silence.

His crimson eyes narrow, patience slowly wearing thin. “You were fine not even 5 seconds ago. The fuck is your problem, brat?” The question is punctuated with a squeeze on your waist.

Eyes still fixed onto the TV screen, you mutter something under your breath, barely loud enough for him to hear. 

“Hah? Stop mumbling, use your words.”

You finally look up, glaring at him with all the fury you can muster, and repeat yourself, this time loud and clear. “Whore.”

Sukuna blinks. “Excuse me.” 

“Whore.” You scoff, arms crossing.

Sukuna stares at you, clearly trying to process what the hell just came out of your mouth, brows twitching. “The fuck did you just call me?”

“You heard me, whore,” you repeat, voice dripping with betrayal as you scoot away from him like his whorish tendencies were contagious. His expression shifts from confusion to one of mild amusement. “And what exactly did I do to earn that title?”

You whipped around, eyes blazing, “OH I DON’T KNOW?? Maybe the fact that you had like 300 concubines in your past life??” 

He does nothing for a few seconds, brain still buffering before he bursts out laughing. 

Yeah, you just made Sukuna, King of Curses laugh. Truly, you would have been admiring your exceptional feat if you weren’t currently so disgusted by him. 

“Woman, there’s no way you’re mad about some shit that happened centuries ago.”

You gasp loudly, hand flying to your chest like he had just admitted to killing a room full of puppies (which, knowing him, isn’t entirely impossible - but still.) “So you’re not denying it??” 

This man(whore) just stares at you, still baffled at your outburst. “...huh?”

You, on the other hand, were on the brink of losing it. “So, you cheated on me.”

His eye twitched, “You weren’t even fucking alive at the time.” 

You just scoff, shaking your head in utter regret and disappointment, “For the streets before my birth is crazyyy.”

A deep, exhausted sigh makes your head snap up to him, your eyes narrowing as if daring him to try and speak. He would later wish he hadn’t, but alas - he did. 

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? ME? I’M the one being ridiculous?? Sorry, remind me which one of us was out there entertaining an entire fucking harem?” You rolled your eyes, the scorn in your voice evident now. He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly tired of your antics - which, in your mind, were completely valid. 

“Babe, it was a thousand years ago.” This man really needs to learn how to shut his mouth. 

“Oh, so that makes it okay then?” You counter, eyebrows raising accusingly. 

“That’s not what I-”

“You really expect me to be out here cuddling you, knowing you were practically a historical hoe?”

His mouth drops open, at a complete loss for words - look at that, your second feat of the night that you could have been celebrating but noooo your boyfriend just had to be a bop before society even invented the word. 

“What the fuck…” 

And then it hits you. The real tragedy. Yet another scandalised gasp leaves you, your face one of pure horror.

“Oh my god,” you immediately scrambled to the opposite side of the bed, practically pressing yourself against the wall, voice dropping to a whisper. “I was laying on whore thighs.” 

He could only groan, dragging a hand down his face in absolute despair. “I swear to every god out there, I will throw you out of this fucking room.” 

“You probably used that exact line on all your concubines. You didn’t even have one. No, you had MULTIPLE. I can’t believe this. How greedy can one get.”

“Oh my fucking god.” 

You decide you've officially had enough of staring at his stupidly handsome face, so you turn your back to him, facing the wall like a petulant child. Your eyes immediately land on the pictures of you both scattered around, and you barely manage to muffle a scream. “Don’t talk to me.”

This time, his groan was accompanied by both hands dragging down his face. “You cannot be serious right now.” 

You didn’t move. You didn’t even acknowledge him. 

You were determined to see this silent treatment through. 

Sukuna exhales through his nose, closing his eyes for a brief moment to try and fathom exactly what the fuck had just happened. Before you know it, a strong arm snakes around your waist, effortlessly yanking you back into his chest. “Enough.” He murmurs. 

“No,” you grumble, still pouting. “Go back to your little harem.”

“They’re dead.”

“Oh, so now I’m just a replacement.”

He rolls his eyes, tucking your head under his chin as his thumb draws small comforting circles on your hip. “Woman, I swear-” He mumbled. “You know damn well you’re the only one I give a shit about now. Behave.” 

You mumbled something incoherent into his chest, still sulking (although the way you immediately melted in his embrace said otherwise). But when you felt his lips press against the top of your head, soft and lingering, you supposed you maybe could let this slide… for now.

“...still a whore.”

“For fuck’s sake, I should have just stayed single.”

ᯓ★ notes from star: this idea came to me during a lecture. i was fighting demons to not start writing then but i didnt want anyone seeing 😭 as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!!

also happy mauritius independence day!! 🇲🇺 prettyngeto © 2025. all rights reserved - please do not plagiarise, translate, steal and repost any of my works on any social platforms for whatever reason.