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#not as a villain as a villain that's strong
paper-mario-wiki · 1 day
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alright look i know my following is not the target audience for this kind of post but i wanna at least point something out about a scene in the Fallout show that i haven't actually heard a single person point out or comment on.
spoilers ahead.
in the scene where the ghoul is rewatching his old movie, specifically the scene where he originally protested about killing the villain.
the first layer is the obvious one: he is talking directly to himself. "you were strong, ugly, and you had dignity. i'll give you two out of those three." he remembers what happened at that shoot just as clearly as we did, and after he literally tells himself to his face "you're strong, ugly, and have no dignity" followed by him killing the man he originally wanted his character to save. this, of course, coming DIRECTLY after the person he sold into slavery earlier that day sparing him with life saving medicine while he's on the ground and telling him to his face that he only lives on because someone stuck to their humanity. very heavy! i bet he feels like shit, which he probably should because he's kind of a jerkoff! (but in a cool way that i like to watch)
the SECOND layer is the one i find way more interesting. the phrasing of his final line we didn't hear before was so dripping with importance that it felt like i was reading RPG dialogue and story relevant words were highlighted. "i hope you like the taste of lead you commie son of a bitch". as we'd already seen in episode 3, he despises vault-tec for everything he knows they are responsible for while he was their face. moreover, it's made clear that he doesn't just resent himself for being used for their image, but he resents the fact that he was the face of the propaganda which drove the war fever that caused the end of the world. the wild west ideal caricature of masculine wisdom from the movies as the spokesperson of the company who stood to profit from the purposeful decimation of the human race. he became The Ultimate Jingo.
and i really enjoyed how brief yet informative that detail was! i really enjoyed how the directors tell you what the characters are thinking intuitively and effectively through the camerawork and those little details make the whole thing a lot more fun to mull over and consider as a part of the whole of Fallout! i think it's neat.
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j word coded
TO BE CLEAR: I am NOT claiming that this other game (Ikemen Villains) is a "rip-off" of TWST; I'm pointing out parallels between them because I think it's entertaining to see how different games interpret the same or similar fairy tales.
Please also note that although nothing I say in this post is explicit, IkeVil itself is designated as 17+ and contains dark content. If you decide you want to try the game out for yourself, BE AWARE OF THE AGE RATING AND TRIGGER WARNINGS.
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ARE THESE NOT JUST J WORD IN A BLACK WIG AND CONTACTS (the last one looks like a blend of Jade's sus face + Idia's sus face) 😭 His face looks so similar… and they're both "attendant" characters that act polite but are more manipulative than they appear at first glance... (although Alfons has Floyd's hedonism rather that Jade's restraint!)
More of my first impressions of the characters of IkeVil below the cut!! Again, there's nothing explicit, I just wanted to keep this post not too bulky.
And not just him (Alfons) either, ashldbiasydefpaei there's a Trey-lookalike and a Silver pre-hair color change in the same game! Roger has a rifle and is cursed by Snow White's huntsman, so I joke that he's Rook and Trey's test tube baby... and Elbert has Vil's keen eye and desire for what is beautiful!
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There are also characters that don't look like an TWST ones, but definitely have personalities that remind me of a few! For example, Liam's laid-back affability is Che'nya and Chenya Cater-esque, Jude speaks in a gruff but aristocratic manner like Leona but is a tough businessman like Azul, and Ellis seems like a mix of Malleus's obsession with happy endings + Idia's gloomy demeanor…? No clue if he actually is gloomy or not, he just gives me gloomy vibes.
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Victor is Crowley-adjacent! Like they're both overseeing this group of powerful men with magic so you'd think they're serious types--but they aren't. They're silly and use their own skills to do frivolous things like doing magic tricks or making cake fancier. They also both seem to be hiding a secret...
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Harrison doesn't remind me of anyone in particular, though I do see little bits of our typical "lying" characters in him. He has the chill of a Che'nya but also Floyd's flippancy and lies as easily as like... I don't know, Cater?? Not sure on this one.
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abfhbyoafvadpiadgo OKAY OKAY BUT THE FUNNIEST ONE TO ME IS WILLIAM BECAUSE HE'S "THE QUEEN OF HEARTS" CHARACTER... Most of the time when you have a character with this inspiration, they're controlling and easily angered (*stares at Riddle*), but William is NOTHING like that???? In fact, he's got a strong sense of justice and often encourages others to be honest and to act freely, even if it means disregarding the rules. Every time William opens his mouth... I picture Riddle shrieking and sobbing/j
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kindlespark · 1 day
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guys ive become so so attached to a sympathetic but incompetent jace stardiamond who failed to save those kids in the mountains but was too cowardly to choose death. and is now forced to lead them all to their doom
jace becoming a fucked up guardian for the rat grinders as the only adult who knows what happened to them and who is helping them with the larger plan with ankarna. while navigating his own guilt and the kids’ bitterness over how he failed them. he wasn’t strong enough to protect them but maybe now he can stick it out with them. softlaunching a new fhsy doomed tragic dynamic for me to go crazy over: student and teacher.
so badly want a jace stardiamond that puts the pathetic in sympathetic ❤️ i am beaming visions into past brennan’s brain i simply think this could be sooo much more interesting than your classic “evil and manipulative from the start” type villain
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cherryxblossxms · 21 hours
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🔞 Ellis looks like one of those deceptively strong type of guys that can actually pick you up with ease. Very athletic, wiry, and picks you up without hesitation just to see you get flustered
Just imagining him really teasing you, hoisting you up by your thighs and pressing you against the wall. And hes holding you up so effortlessly so the only thing you can do is wrap your legs around his hips as he grinds against you. He loves seeing the shiver run through your body when he grinds just right, feeling the way his hard-on tries to slot itself between your legs, just a few measly layers of clothes separating his skin from touching yours.
Hes quick to get needy for more, but he'll try to wait until you admit it first or even asks you what you want him to do. The moment you give in, he's not even bothering to undress completely, simply shoving aside whatever clothes he has to until his heat can touch yours. And once he's inside, that strength comes in handy to bounce you on his dick, easily pulling you up and back down and watching you fall apart as you're used like a toy.
He's not mean about it, though. In fact, the compliments and praise that fall from his lips only serve to fluster you more, telling you how good you are to him, taking him so well and accepting his love. His eyes never leave you for a second, basking you in his adoring gaze as it travels from your face down to where you two are joined, and back up again.
And he makes sure to angle his hips just right to hit all the best spots, because your pleasure is so important to him. He doesn't care how noisy you might get, any scratches or bites, as it all serves as a physical reminder of how happy he's making you. If someone happens to overhear, he's just making his lover feel good, is that a crime?
And the moment you fall apart for him, he's taking you down gentle, wringing out every last bit of pleasure from you as he tells you how well you did for him, how perfect. How you make him so happy that he can deconstruct you completely. Now, how happy has he made you?
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demidokuriya · 1 day
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Maybe it's just my speculation, but it seems to me that AFO has a soft spot for a certain type of person.
That moment when Mineta talks AFO out of stealing Tokoyami's quirk always struck me as very strange. AFO really had no reason to pass up the opportunity to steal a powerful quirk, but he looked into Mineta's tear-stained eyes, while also remembering Jirou's tear-stained face, and suddenly changed his mind. We don't know what AFO was thinking at that moment. All we see is a meaningful "…", after which he leaves, because "every precious second counts now".
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Although, to be honest, it seems to me that this whole situation looked like he was looking for an excuse for himself not to steal Tokoyami's quirk. He pretended that he just didn't have time to get a quirk, but I think that's bullshit. AFO is definitely fast enough to steal multiple people's Quirks in a matter of seconds. He had already done something similar when Eri's quirk first started affecting him.
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He definitely could have taken Tokoyami's quirk, but he decided not to.
I suspect that the students reminded him of Yoichi when he was still a child: a weakling with tear-stained eyes. The reminder of his brother made him feel uncomfortable, so he hurried away.
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Maybe this weakness for people who remind him of Yoichi will play a role in the near future. After all, Izuku has a lot in common with Yoichi: Izuku is small and weak/worthless (according to AFO), but more importantly, Izuku is very stubborn and he is hopelessly kind, just like Yoichi. Izuku, like Yoichi, is a gentle person, but he has strong moral principles that he will stand up for if he has to. They have similar personalities, and I think Izuku is really very similar to little Yoichi.
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I don't expect AFO to get redemption or anything like that. Unlike Tomura, who was manipulated from his birth, AFO committed evil knowingly and deliberately. AFO is the real villain and after everything he's done, he doesn't deserve to be forgiven. However, I believe that until AFO accepts his brother's death and admits that he regrets the way he treated him, he will not leave Japan alone. Even now that AFO has accepted that Yoichi's death has left a hole in his soul, he still views his brother's death as a tool for achieving power. "It is tragedy that makes people stronger" is what he said.
But at the same time, AFO spent nearly a century trying to bring back his dead brother, only to lose him again, this time perhaps for good. Regardless of what AFO says, this is indeed a major blow to him. And as long as this wound bleeds, he will be a threat to heroic society. Someone needs to help him heal this wound so he can leave.
I'm guessing that Yoichi might return at some point to talk to his brother one last time, but I'm not sure how that could happen considering Eri's quirk failed to return OFA to Izuku.
Even if Yoichi doesn't end up coming back, I think Izuku will still make an attempt to talk to AFO to help him. Whether this attempt will be successful or not.
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cripplecharacters · 2 days
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Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.
For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.
Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.
It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!
Hi!
"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.
In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.
It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.
Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.
Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.
The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.
"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."
This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?
"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."
This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.
This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.
I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!
mod Sasza
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hazelkjt · 1 day
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What Type of Villain Are You?
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"Come on, get up! Our FUN isn't over yet!"
Sportsmanlike- "You may be a villain with selfish goals, but you recognize that there are rules to this back and forth between heroes and villains. You have honor. Morals. Some may call you old fashioned, but there's tradition to this whole evil business and you'll be damned if you let yourself break it. You offer hospitality to the heroes when you recognize you must, even when it gets in the way of your plans. You play dirty only when absolutely necessary. You honor your word and if you lose, it is with grace and dignity. You consider yourself classy, respectable, and while you realize you may be evil, you're not gonna let that make you an asshole."
Quiz can be found here
Tagged By: @nolanel-corbeaux, tyty!!!
Tagging: YOU, reading this!
Boop
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With the whole anti-Daemon agenda Condal and Hess have going, I am surprised they didn’t pile on him more lies and bullshit told by his enemies in the book.
Let’s be real here. The only death which Daemon might have had something to do with pre-war in actual canon, was Laenor’s (and there’s a lot of grey area here too).
Let’s recap:
1. Rhea Royce: in canon, she died nine days after she fell off her horse. You would think that if Daemon had done something to her, she would have said something to someone in those nine days she spent suffering. Whether or not Daemon was in the Vale at this time (many claim he was in the Stepstones), is irrelevant. The guy got lucky, that’s it. He wanted to be rid of this long and unwanted union and the Gods granted him this wish.
2. Harwin Strong: the idea is even more absurd than the one previously mentioned. At least with Rhea, Daemon could have had true motive. What motive could he possibly have for torching Harrenhal and murdering Lyonel and Harwin Strong? Harwin had been invaluable to the City Watch, and Lyonel was a very decent and loyal Hand.
The only thing that could determine Daemon to do this would be jealousy. Jealousy that Harwin was rumored to be Rhaenyra’s lover and the father of her three sons.
But do you honestly expect me to believe that he went through all that trouble, and created such massive destruction because he was petty? He had nothing to gain from Harwin’s death.
But you know who had something to gain? The Greens. They got rid of Lyonel Strong to place Otto Hightower back in the very influential position as Hand of the King, and getting rid of Harwin managed to hurt Rhaenyra (as a plus).
3. Laenor Velaryon: there are two theories here and I kind of think both are possible. Either his lover killed him out of jealousy, or Daemon arranged to have him killed so he could marry Rhaenyra. I am more inclined to believe that Daemon arranged it, however there are a couple of things that still bug me:
Corlys is Daemon’s best friend. Would Daemon risk his friendship with him in such a way? You would think that Daemon and Rhaenyra are both smart enough to realize that if they marry soon after Laenor’s death, the Realm would whisper that they had something to do with this death. And if Corlys and Rhaenys both believed these rumors, they would have broken off relations with Daemon and Rhaenyra immediately. And so, the Blacks would have lost the Velaryon support.
But that’s not what happened. Corlys and Rhaenys both stood firmly by Daemon and Rhaenyra from start to finish.
So, it is very possible that Daemon might have gotten lucky again, and Laenor died in the right moment. And since there was no point wasting time, Daemon and Rhaenyra married after only a few months, standing firmly against the Greens.
Bottom line: Condal, stop trying to turn Daemon into a villain in a desperate attempt to make a certain faction look better.
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silverskye13 · 3 days
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how do you create helsmets? like, are they *opposites* or just personifications of negative traits?
A little bit of both! A little more of one in some and the other in the rest. [Wibble wobbles my hand back and forth] it's an art not a science I think!
Normally I start with two questions: What do I think makes most logical sense as a bad trait/fatal flaw? What do I think best matches that flaw that comes from the source.
So Fwhip/Flipside, since he's new.
Fwhip is a chaos-causer. A lot of his empires characters involve a strong personality built around a strong aesthetic, that then commits to a story and uses that story to stir the pot. As a goblin with his goblands, he spends his time digging beneath his friends' houses and stealing their stuff. When he's a prince(?) of the grimlands, he takes petty slights against him and amplifies them and throws them back on Jimmy and Sausage. On his single player worlds, he is building a kingdom, and he is deeply entrenched in the idea of making a cohesive world that makes sense.
As a character [on the whole], Fwhip's strongest traits are: Putting places to order, finding cohesion, and breaking cohesion [for the fun of it, to inform his previously established order and cohesion, to tell a story].
For Flipside, I decided making someone the complete opposite in a literal way [someone chaotic, who intentionally breaks or meddles in other people's story to rob them of stability, someone who prioritizes the individual] wouldn't be interesting. He would be a villain character, which wasn't what I needed. Instead I focused on what things a person who prioritizes order and story would fear, what would be a flaw? And I decided a flaw in that kind of person would be a deep need for security, and a tendency to build their personality off of that sense of security.
Flipside then, is a nervous character who is trying really hard to define himself, and so far has only gotten close by putting himself into the most stable and defined place in hels: The First Church. It's time consuming, it helps him run away from his listlessness and lack of identity, and it gives him a sense of purpose he desperately needs. As a helsmet, he is the personification of Fwhip's need for a story to feel "safe" in the worlds he's a part of, and reflects that Fwhip has a fear that he has no real sense of self or personality.
Meanwhile the one quick cameo of MythicalSausage basically amounted to: Sausage has an established evil character, that character is already a subversion of a lot of his personal character tropes [caring, secure in himself, selfless, kind], so I will keep his EvilSona as his helsmet. If I want to find [or build] depth into that, I can, but his basic building block is as he is now.
Hopefully? This helps?
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bibibbon · 1 day
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Sukuna is a good villain analysis
Coming from someone who hates villains that are evil because they were born that way and with no other explanation. To be honest, out of all the villains in jjk I always found sukuna to be somewhat boring , he is well written but I just couldn't really see what people saw in him. I still think that kenjaku is way more interesting than him but I will say that due to the recent arc and chapters that my opinion of sukuna has significantly changed.
Sukuna is the abstract embodiment of nihilism (in a way). His character for the longest time has always been about destruction and chaos. Sukuna's first introduction consists of him saying that he is going to destroy absolutely everything and there is a heavy focus on him destroying the woman and children. He simply views then as little maggots that he can easily destroy with ease. We later learn the connection (I guess) he has to his mother which he doesn't regard her disrespectfully and his devoured twin whom he is shown to remember the presence of. Every time we meet him before shibuya his power is further emphasised and he is further demonised and built to be the big bad.
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It is later in shibuya, during his fight with jogo that we get more to sukuna. In this fight sukuna brings out his CT of flames and jogo is surprised however, before sukuna kills jogo they share an interesting conversation. Sukuna recognises jogo's ideology and desires to be human and sukuna relates to it. He understands jogo's desires of taking humans place and ruling the world yet he views that view as foolish. This is where we learn that sukuna believes that being alone and having the power to destroy everything you care about is what makes one powerful. This can explain sukunas love for destruction and simple chaos. However, sukuna is incapable of understanding why he is talking to jogo, why does he even care for him in a way and instead of trying to understand he does exactly what he said to jogo that he should do and destroys/ fully burns jogo after calling him "strong". At this point both of these curses have experienced what it's like to be 'human' with emotions flowing through them that aren't negative but while one (jogo) questions it and tires to explore it the other (sukuna) rejects it and burns it all away.
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There's also sukuna's relationship with his relatives especially itadori his nephew. Sukuna and itadori share completely different ideologies while sukuna believes in him being the strongest and destroying everything he cares for to stay that way yuji will believes that he is a simple cog in a system and tries to do everything to fulfill his role and protect others. Both are strong characters yet it is yujis drive and strong resolve that makes him so much more mentally stronger than sukuna and what irritates sukuna as yuji is claimed to be unbreakable in his views and passion. Yuji also makes sukuna question his own purpose and what he is here to achieve. Even though the two are strangely similar in many ways considering that yuji is a part of sukuna they're vastly different especially with their ideologies.
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There's also the huge contrast between sukuna and his twin Jin itadori. Sukuna is strong, cold hearted and would put himself before anyone. Sukuna doesn't care for others and his existence is mainly him trying to satisfy himself and his needs while flaunting the immense power he carries. Yet from the little we have seen from Jin itadori he is is the polar opposite of sukuna. Jin itadori died for love, he was so blinded by grief that when kaori came back even though it was kenjaku he still loved her the same and he loved itadori more. It was stated that Jin really wanted to have a child and truly cared for itadori to the point he and itadoris grandpa got into fights about it. Jin from the moment we see him seems like a really nice and somewhat nerdy guy the complete opposite to his twin sukuna heck even their character designs are completely different with them only having the same colour hair and eyes (I think).
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These twins are also juxtaposed to the zenin twins. Its stated that sukuna had to eat his twin to survive in the womb due to how poor their mother was. However, the only thing that sukuna got out of his twin was the physical characteristic and his CT while Jin's soul went through cycles before coming into he human realm again. This contrasts with eh zenin twins whom voluntary chose to join together and when she died Mai chose to take all the CE they both had while dying physically she joined her sister spiritually by becoming a sword. Maki and Mai will always be together and entwined by their souls. The sukuna and jin twins are only connected physically which could be why sukuna has 4 eyes and 4arms.
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Sukunas own character design just shows that he is the embodiment of destruction and how he simply devours everything around him. When asked if sukuna ever feels lonely he literally says that he lives however he wants and that he can eat as much human flesh with all of them tasting different and filling him with different emotions. The closest thing that sukuna has to a friend is his loyal servant urauame and they only obey his orders while entertaining him. It's stated that the only reason sukuna keeps urauame around is due to their talent in cooking human meat, the same thing that gives him joy aka any real emotion.
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There are then his other fights that focus on sukuna and his views on love and power. Yorozu's fight is an interesting one where we get more on sukunas cannibalism and how both of those characters view love as a means of destruction and death. Yorozu is happy that sukuna killed her and got to know more about her through that while sukuna is questioned on stuff that he views as pointless and meaningless like marriage. Yorozu sees the solitude that sukuna is surrounded by and think that he can understand her since she has faced similar yet they heavily clash with sukuna believing that to have power one must face the burden of solitude. In the end yorozu, does give sukuna a gift crafted by her which he actually takes and uses during the current battle. Yorozu's attempts to get to sukuna and to make him reciprocate his love all fail even when she makes a TRUE SPHERE. Something that has the largest surface area and can contaminate and touch everything yet sukuna leaves untouched by yorozu at all. I think it's interesting that yorozu's heart took a shape of a true sphere just to show how obsessed she is with sukuna and her desire to be with him.
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Sukuna then fights with kashimo. Kashimo somewhat like jogo has an understanding of what it's like to be strong yet kashimo is sick of superficial interactions that the strong have to have with people that are inferior to them or want to challenge them. Kashimo asks sukuna if there is a way where he can be strong and surround himself with love sukuna says that this is selfish thinking considering his view that everything he cares for must be burnt for him to be strong. Kashimo isn't satisfied by only having strength but he also wants to experience simple things such as love, sukuna could of been similar to that long ago yet he gave up and has resorted to taking in all the destruction and enjoying himself from it. Kashimos fight with sukuna was more of a self discovery journey for the both of them and at the end they both come out on different sides.
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After higumara's death there is a whole chapter about sukuna and he starts questioning his own life view. What has he been doing? Is it worth it? Where is the joy in what he used to do? And he is again faced with his complete opposite yuji. He is deep in thought and he feels empty, confused even he can't seem to understand why everyone is dedicating themselves to this belief, they're all united and strong yet he is alone and bored. Sukuna has done everything he has fought and killed but like kashimo said that caught up to him and now he is tired of it he wishes to experience the unity and stuff that the others fighting him are experiencing. Sukuna has no purpose but to destroy at this point but he has caused so much that him destroying over and over again has just been a mundane cycle.
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Yet things start to change as the tides are against him and he may taste losing for the first time.
In conclusion, sukuna is an abstract and literal ideology of nihilism to a cerian extent and conveys the big bad villain trope in a fantastic way. I find him way more well written than AFO and muzan.
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chaifootsteps · 1 day
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I’m kinda devastated by the “cockblocktavia” thing, she’s the only female character who really feels like a lead, the closest to a real girl, even if her only waking thought is her dad just like Loonas is boys in general and Millie’s is her husband. Octavia just felt, different, more real.
I’m also a huge fan of Barret Wilbert Weed so I was so excited for her to have more focus and sing with that incredible voice of hers. I thought lots of people would see Via shine and be on her side, creating an actual dilemma in the show that’s been well foreshadowed. But now it’s like Brandon completely overshadowed it, and sabotaged the emotional impact of her story arc and performance for the sake of his character and his musical debut (which is going to sound bad, I’m sorry, but it is) What a selfish prick. What the fuck is Via even getting “in the way” of?? Stolas actually loves her, not obsesses. They have an actual bond. What irritates me too is “stolitz” is nothing but a marketing tool. Only garbage shows have to rely on a dramatic gay ship for views and money, and even this show is better than that.
Also how pathetic is it that the so called protagonist only has a musical debut now in season 2, and even then he has to share it with another character who has sang three times to date. That is the craziest case of creators pet I’ve ever seen. Why isn’t Blitzøs daughter having a big emotional moment? Why can’t we see his family breakdown in real time? Everything is about stolas’ shitty family while Blitzøs is the one that’s actually interesting. And sad. Tight-knit families formed under harsh environments have strong touching bonds, nobles don’t give a rats ass about each other, but Viv hates the poor, so she would never understand that.
Agreed, agreed completely.
I hate that I actually had some hope that maybe, this show wasn't actually going in the direction the Octavia leaks made it seem, that they weren't actually going to villainize this sad, troubled girl in favor of her dad. But it looks like that's exactly what we're getting, and it's surreal and disgusting.
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muzansfangs · 23 hours
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Bloodstain.
Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to past Shuhei Hisagi x f!reader;
Format: multi-chapers story;
Warnings for this chapter: nsfw, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, mention to violence and blood, strong language, choking, hair pulling, biting, marking the partner, kind of toxic dynamic, unprotected sex, touch-starved Sosuke, dom!Aizen, sub!reader, degradation kink, drunk sex, unhealthy coping mechanism;
Plot: Waking up in a familiar room, you soon are face to face with your ‘former’ enemy. Your reunion with Sosuke is intense and, in the heat of the moment, you are overwhelmed by your own emotions. Finding comfort in his arms was not something you had planned, just imagine moaning his name at the top of your lungs
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𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
"You are not like them".
You propped your chin over your hand, elbows resting on the table. You could almost hear your step-mother scolding you in the back of your head, her soothing voice inviting you not to forget about your usual composed and inflexible sense of respect for the rules of polite society. In other circumstances, you would have probably listened to her. But not now, when you were confronting the devil himself.
"You are right. Something is clearly wrong with me. — you replied, focusing on the way he was leisurely running the pad of his index around the rim of his goblet — After all, I should cut you down right on the spot. I wonder why I am still sitting at your table, listening to you talking absolute nonsense instead" your voice was distant, devoid of any other emotion that was not sheer frustration.
Sosuke seemed unaffected by your dry words. His lips curved into a pale imitation of a genuine smile. But you knew better than deem anything coming from him as genuine, authentic. Treacherously, he had fooled the entire Soul Society and even you, after he had helped you hiding in his barracks, when the entire Gotei was hunting down you along with Ichigo and his friends.
"You haven't touched your food yet. — he noted, changing the topic of your conversation, his fox eyes softening whilst subtly inspecting your dish — You must be famished" he said, bringing his glass of red wine to his lips.
Your gaze followed his gesture, your stomach churning for both the hunger and, actually, the untainted feeling of being attracted to him. Suppressing your desires had never been so unfairly difficult. It was not a merely carnal whim setting your heart ablaze. It was a devious emotion you could not comprehend.
You snorted, averting your eyes from him and focusing on the white marble at your feet instead "How do I know you have not poisoned it?" you bitterly asked him, jaw clenching in indignation. The smell of the delicious, exotic dish he had asked his Arrancars to prepare for you was flinging around you, the unintentional whiffs you had taken had made your mouth salivate like a starving animal.
Damn him and his villainous antics.
The sound of a chair being dragged on the floor made your head whip towards him again, your heartrate increasing while your hand aimlessly searched for the hilt of your zanpakuto supposed to be secured on your hip, obviously forgetting he had asked Ulquiorra to confiscate it.
Your eyes had widened in horror, upon seeing him approaching you. His feet did not even make a sound, his ethereal way of existing and letting his presence overwhelm whomever was in his area was inhebriating. What you felt was not fear, seeping into your heart and paralyzing you. It was far from that. There was curiosity and defiance in your eyes that the observant man in front of you did not fail to notice.
His hand swiftly reached for the fork, abandoned carelessly on the table. You did not even register him sticking the utensil into a piece of caramelized apple that it was already probing delicately at your parted lips. The sugary taste coating your bottom lip made you flick your gaze up to meet his one, unable to resist the temptation of having a small taste. You had no idea of what game he was playing, a mind game of chess, probably, and he was winning once again. Hazardously opening your mouth, tongue sticking out enough to lick the sugar away from your lips and let your tastebuds explode at the contact of the sweet apple, you gasped as he quickly withdrew his hand and shoved it elegantly into his mouth instead.
He chewed on the morsel of the fruit, gaze transfixed on you and the way you were still looking at him flabbergasted by the action. Messing with you was decidedly his strange addiction. Restraining himself, though, was out of discussion. Just when you thought it could not get any worse, his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, tracing it slowly to collect the small remnants the sugar had left behind, before bringing it into his mouth and sucking it clean.
"I guess now you know the food is edible" he chimed, before discarding the fork into your plate and turning his back at you, leaving you alone with your skin on fire and the rational version of you fading into the abyss of shame and repugnance you pictured yourself in for your inability to block him out of your head.
Your fingers twitched, a silky material making contact with the pads of your fingers as you gradually came back to your senses. Was that a blanket? It did not matter. Bittered, all you could think about was that the loathsome fragment of your past had resurfaced again. You thought you were finally over it, but casting away such experiences was something hardly feasible. This was a core memory that had been pestering you for years. Your permanence in Hueco Mundo had, boyond the shadow of a doubt, scarred you more than you liked to admit to yourself, let alone the others. Triggering it back to life had been the inexplicable appearence of the guest star of your ‘nightmare’ right before your eyes.
Lifting your heavy eyelids up, you noticed your vision was still blurry, dotted, and you quickly blinked a couple of times to clear it out. Wooden architraves and a white ceiling welcomed you in your temporary and oddly familiar shelter. Following the dim yellowish light enlightening the room, your eyes took in the sight of a small lamp on a nightstand at your left. Albeit you had been hiding yourself in this place for two days, you could have never forgotten the minimalistic design of this particular room. You knew this place, your assumptions were proved correct. This was Sosuke’s chamber, back when he was still the kind-hearted Captain of the Fifth Division, the gentleman who had not hesitated to let you use his private quarters as a safehouse to escape the eye of the other Captains.
You should have known a swordsman who had betrayed his comrades by helping the enemy meant no good.
Reminiscing about the time when you believed he was a good man was tantamount of feeding yourself a placebo to forget about the real monster he really was. All you had to do now was flee, leaving that place behind you as soon as possible. Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you let out a soft groan of discomfort, your joints protesting for the effort you were forcing them to make, while you attempted to swing your legs towards the edge of the bed. Letting your feet touch the floor was all you could do, though. To stop you from going further was the wave of intense reiatsu knocking the air out of your lungs for a few seconds. How could you forget he was indeed there too? It was terrifying how his spiritual pressure had not decreased at all, intensifying at unbearable levels instead.
“It’s pouring outside and you’re in no condition to leave this room” his baritone voice pierced your ears, your hands cupping your knees as you dipped your head between your arms in defeat.
He was right, as per usual.
“What are you doing here? I thought Captain Kyoraku had given the order to lock you back into Muken” you replied, refusing to turn around and face him. With your gaze trained on the floorboard, you finally realized your shoes had been removed and you sighed in relief upon ascertaining your thin thigh highs were still on. At least, he had not touched you more than it was strictly necessary.
You heard him sigh, the dull and monotone sound of footsteps echoing in the room preannouncing he was getting closer to you. You stiffened, turning your head to the side, but a gloved hand grasping your jaw roughly and forcing you to look its owner in the eye made you scoff. There he was, standing in all his glory before your eyes, his placid expression making you feel like someone had smashed a glass on your forehead. Handsome in that angelic way that jarred with his personality, Sosuke Aizen was staring intently at your face, his dark eyebrow quirking up expectantly.
Swatting his hand away abruptly, you scooted back on the bed to put some adequate distance between you two, all the while keeping your eyes on him in case he tried to yank you back towards him.
“Don’t touch me. Answer my question” you deadpanned, knitting your eyebrows together and shifting into a kneeling position, ready to attack him if things escalated.
Sosuke grinned, eyes scrutinizing your body shamelessly, before letting his gaze drift back to your face “Now, isn’t it ironic? Every single time I touched you, you had always let me do it without budging to protest. — he started, his characteristic soothing tone of voice causing your upper lip to twitch in annoyance — What’s changed?”.
There was not a dim ounce of a lie in his words. You had never pushed him away, terrorized by his way to find excuses to let your fingers meet, or his hands to slither down your body more than it was necessary during a fight. He indulged in the tension he created with his typical casual attitude, not exposing himself too much, but subtly making sure his intentions were clear to you and that your desires were just as impure as his ones. It drove you mad back then and you had almost missed that feeling of wanting to slaughter him and kiss him so violently at the same time, bathing into a pool of your blood, of his own blood.
You decided to ignore his provocation “What are you doing here?” you pressed through gritted teeth, your voice the only audible sound beside the pattering of the rain against the roof and the glass of the window.
“Enjoying my freedom. You could say I’ve been put on probation for having generously contributed in defeating Yhwach”.
Your eyes widened, watching him showing you two mettalic wristbands secured around his wrists. Thinking about your encounter on the battlefield, you were more than sure he was not wearing them. Whatever this device was had surely been slapped around his wrists after the battle ended. Letting your gaze sizing him up inquisitively, you took notice of other details in his attire. Beside from his eye-patch and the gloved hands, he was not wearing that weird robe to contain his reiatsu, but a simple uniform and greyish haori.
Catching your wandering eyes, Sosuke proceeded to elaborate “Those bands are a gift from Kisuke Urahara. — he clarified, glancing at the said objects scornfully — Apparently, I won’t need to wear that ridiculous costume anymore to contain my powers. He claimed those and the eye-patch will suffice. I decided on my own accord to keep the gloves, in case I felt like murdering him, or the new Captain Commander himself” he stated, making you uncomfortably fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.
Honestly, you had no idea how to feel about this. The Central 46 and Shunsui had clearly miscalculated the consequences of setting the special threat free to roam the streets of the Seireitei. With the time he had spent alone in his cell, Sosuke had had enough time to plan another way to demolish the Soul Society and, considering his resentment for your family and friends, the World of the livings too. You were not even sober enough to concentrate. Were the others aware of the freedom granted to him?
“I don’t believe you” you whispered, your hands clutching the fabric of your skirt so tightly your knuckles whitened.
You could already forsee a catastrophy raining down on you and you could not endure more pain and suffering. Not after the recent events, obviously. You were still mentally recovering from the disaster caused by the Sternritters to weild you sword again and point it at Sosuke’s throat again.
“I’m offended. I never lied to you”.
“Yes, you did. When I first met you, Sosuke. You made me believe you were a good man. I have trust issues because of you” you snapped, banging your fist onto the mattress to accentuate your irritation.
“I’m not responsible for what you thought of me, just for what I did for you. I gave you a shelter, but I do not recall telling you I was a good person. — he flatly declared, tilting his head to the side as he scanned your body language — I had no intention to hurt you and I did not. We only clashed swords because you attacked me, after I cut your step-brother open” he punctuated, flash-stepping away just in time to dodge your assault.
You groaned as your blade was now planted onto the wall, right where he was supposed to be a second ago. Your grip on the hilt of your katana tightened, as you heard him humming under his breath. He had hit a nerve and he could not expect you to keep your cool. Rukia’s screams and the sight of your brother slumping onto the ground in a pool of blood had made you see red that day. You aimed to kill, you craved Sosuke’s death.
“I suggest you to cut the crap, because you are not into Muken and no one’s around to stop me from killing you” you coldly said, pulling your sword out of the wall and pointing it back at him. You could tell he was amused by the way he was lifting the angles of his mouth in a lopsided grin you knew way too well.
“I have to correct you. No one would try to stop you anyway. But the real question is: would you be able to kill me?” Sosuke taunted you, a gust of wind whipping your face the only hint you got to realize he was right behind you.
Your breath hitched in your throat, twirling around to swing your sword, but he deftly parred your attack by gripping your blade between his thumb and forefinger. Your movements had been too slow, despite you had gotten much stronger since you two last fought. Clearly, the saké was still in your bloodstream. The moment he tossed your katana away, your back was flattened against the wall, the sound of the blade clattering on the floor making your blood run cold. His hand around your throat, holding you up against the wall, was enough to keep you in place.
His face was dangerously close to yours, his hot breath fanning your lips as your feet kicked the air aimlessly. You thought it was going to be your end, as his half-lidded eye stared deeply into yours. You hated how powerless you felt in his hands, even when you were trying to scratch his arm to convince him to loosen his grip on your neck.
“You are in no shape to fight. Defeating a drunk opponent is against my morals” he cooed, watching you strive to get free.
“Morals? Screw you, since when you have morals?” you fired back, hand flying up to grab a fistful of his soft hair. Not even this was enough to make him desist and ended up spitting on his face out if spite.
Sosuke huffed, his grip on your neck loosening completely as you flopped onto the floor, coughing and panting to steady your breath. Palms planted onto the smooth surface of the floorboards, you squeezed your eyes shut to collect yourself. You were pretty sure his iron grip on your tender flesh would have caused purple bruises to appear on your skin to remind you of how stupid you had been to act solely on your instinct. Wrath, rage, frustration. You had let it all out the moment you had hastily unsheathed your sword with the intent of beheading him.
To interrupt your stream of consciousness was his voice again “I think it’s time to talk about how you ended up swooning on my doorway. Was it Kyoraku’s suggestion to drink your problems away?” he inquired from behind you.
It took you a moment to calm down and push yourself back up, only now assessing how your body was still highly affected by the excessive alcohol consumption. You should have known better than venturing in the Soul Society alone, while out of your mind. You were supposed to be the responsible silbling. The older one, the brilliant one, the selfless one. Yet, there you were: drunk and having a private conversation with your worst enemy.
“Why do you care? Are you interested in pursuing a career as a therapist now? Well, you would suck as a psychologist. — you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose, while leaning back against the wall for support — An emotionally constipated man, who spent a couple of years in isolation, does not allure people to open up about their problems” you ranted, as he took a seat on the edge of his bed seemingly determined to listen to you.
Once again, his face did not leave you room for interpretation about his thoughts. Stoic, unbothered, he resembled a Sphinx. He was enigmatic, too secretive to try to have a normal conversation with.
He closed his eye “Then I will start making assumptions until I hit the nail on the head… Which, considering your inability to mask your emotions, will take me less than a minute” he cooed, clicking his tongue, when you glared at him before ambling towards the desk.
You thought that with your back facing him, he would have not been able to read your face, but you underestimated his powers.
“When a woman stoops that low, it’s pretty evident her problem has the name of a man”.
“Zip it”.
“It’s that pathetic excuse of a Lieutenant, isn’t it? Shuhei Hisagi” he hypothesized, making you halt and look at him in utter disbelief.
Did he know about you and Shuhei? How? Had he been spying on you? It was not possible. Still, how had he been so precise as to ask about that Lieutenant?
“How…” you mumbled, curling your hands around the edge of the desk behind you, lips parted in shock. You had almost missed his way of playing with your mind. No one had ever been capable to easily read your thoughts.
Sosuke smirked “You smelt like him”.
His remark made you freeze solid, brows furrowing before he cut you off again, walking up towards you “His reiatsu. It’s lingering on you. Quite the disturbing element, I have to say” he explained, making you rub the back of your neck in flusteredness.
Now that you were sobering up, bringing up Shuhei and the reason why you had bought that bottle of saké was a slap on the face, a cold shower. You had too much pent up anger and anxiety to deal with. The teardrop falling from your lashes came as a surprise to you, your fingers reaching up to quickly wipe it away, hoping he had not paid enough attention to spot it. Even if he had not, it would have made no difference since more tears began to ooze out of your eyes uncontrollably. A silent cry, the lump in your throat growing, as you cussed under your breath for this pathetic display of weakness in front of someone who did not even have a heart in his chest. Embarrassing, to say the least.
You sighed and tried to head to the bathroom, glad you knew your way around his private quarters. Sosuke, on the other hand, had other plans. His hand latched around your wrist yanked you back against him, you nose accidentally bumping onto his chest, as you let out an almost inaudible gasp. You blinked up at him through teary eyes, his free hand gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he pushed the small of your back against the edge of a desk.
“What has he done that I haven’t to bring tears to your eyes?” he wondered and you swallowed forcefully.
You were probably overreacting and the liquor in your system was making you emotional “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you… I thought drinking would have gotten him out of my head, or maybe helped me to relax. Well, shame on me. Happy now?” you reasoned, shaking your head as he just seemed to push you harder against the desk. The edge was biting onto the small of your back, your already unsteady balance making you unintentionally grip onto his haori not to fall backwards.
Breathing seemed harder now that he was this close. His cologne pierced your nostrils and you mentally cursed yourself for the inappropriate things your body craved. Obnubilated mind, weak mainstay, you watched how he tangled his fingers in your hair and tugged on them, forcing you to crane your neck in a optimal position to look at him straight in the eye. It already felt wrong, the thunders exploding outside reminding you of what you were letting him to do you. Things he had always wanted to do to you, but that he never did.
“There are plenty of other ways to forget about such trivial matters without compromising your liver. — he stated, eye softening as he leaned closer to you, nosing your cheek delicately — Why don’t you let me show you what a man who is starving can really do?” he murmured in your ear, his tone dropping a few octaves and making your knees almost buckle.
“What can a starving man do to someone who cannot stop thinking about another man?” you idly replied with a question, only to shudder as he let out a dry laughter.
“He can fuck him out of your head. Something I will very much do” he rasped out, capturing your lips with his in a fiery kiss.
You did not hesitate to return it, your lips moving in sync, molding together, as his grip on your hair only tightened. Your body reacted to the stimulations, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as if a gust of wind had awaken them from their slumber, forcing their wings to bat erratically and fly away. Your inhibitions were gone, the feeling of finally being able to taste the forbidden fruit, his sinful lips, granting him the chance to hook his hands underneath your thighs and pick you up to settle you on the top of his desk.
Maybe you were so lost into the realm of bliss, his tongue entering your mouth with a growl coming from the back of his throat, that you could swear he almost trembled. His knee soon forced your legs to spread, his hand unceremoniously ripping your uniform open. The sight of your bra, pushing your breasts up, was the last drop before he lost control. All of this, all of you, the girl he had had his eyes on from the day you first met, was now at his mercy, out of breath. He desired to devour you whole, to own every inch of your skin, but he almost felt inadequate. More than touching you, all he needed was to be touched and he would have rather died than admitting it out loud.
Mouth latching onto your neck, he sank his teeth onto your flesh, his hands tugging your skirt down your hips “Control your reiatsu, it’s unstable” he hissed, your cheeks heating up as you realized he was right.
People could think you were in the middle of a fight, or hurt. The last thing you needed now was for someone to burst into that room and ruin this, whatever it was. Why? Because you were dying to feel him deep inside you, to let Sosuke Aizen, a monster, stain you like a bloodstain that could not be washed away.
You lifted your hips, the skirt falling down your legs, as you kicked it off of your ankle “As if you cared about someone walking in” you breathed out, head lolling back in pleasure as his hand slipped past the waistband of your panties. You shuddered, as his gloved fingers seeked your throbbing clitoris, skilfully drawing circles over it to send jolts of pleasure throughout your body.
Sosuke groaned, before stopping to tug your thin underwear down as well, following the destiny of your skirt. Biting onto the fabric of his glove, he then pulled at it and discarded the item away “It depends on who’s the intruder. — he cockily said, hand buried between your legs again, his fingers beginning to tease your opening — If it’s your brother, or your little loverboy, I might fuck you so hard the desk with crumble to pieces” he teased you, furrowing his brows as you impatiently bucked your hips up to invite him to take action.
Sosuke sneered, plunging his index into you, stretching you out slowly, gradually, testing the waters. Your warmth was to die for. The strained moan leaving your lips, body relaxing under his ministrations, only worked as gasoline on a wildfire. Your tightness, not that of a woman unable to relax, but this a young woman he had missed so much. He clenched his jaw, his other hand unhooking your bra and pushing you down, until your back was flattened on the polished wooden surface. Impatiently, you huffed, hands grasping the bra and tossing it away to join the pile of clothes on the floor. You needed more, you needed him.
“Sosuke” you called him out, careful not to add prayers to your already altered voice. Alas, he knew you more than you liked to admit.
“What is it? Do you need more than this? Is your desire to be ruined by me so strong to forget about the concept of decorum? — he mocked you, before shoving another finger into your fluttering hole, grunting at the way your walls clamped down onto them — I will be frank with you. Begging like a cat in heat suits you” he complimented you, his voice dripping sarcasm as he began to curl his fingers into you at a steady pace.
Your legs quivered, back arching, as a familiar pressure coiled on your lower abdomen. This much pleasure, this intense bliss, you only achieved it during a full penetration. No one had ever been able to push you close to your climax by the mere use of his fingers. Your pussy spasmed around his slender digits, the squelch of your arousal coating his fingers, as he scissored them into you, made him grit his teeth. He decided to be selfish, for once. Your nipples stood uptight, jiggling with the way he relentlessly fingered you. You could not reach your orgasm before he did.
That hole, the sight of your core was literally driving him nuts.
Slamming his fist onto the desk beside your head, he pulled out his fingers. His mouth opened, tongue meticulously lapping at his digits, coated with your juices. Hungry, he was hungry and he was so mad he was not in the condition to control his impulses. He hated you for having always been his obsession, instilling that annoying feeling in his heart that made him want to possess you, to paint you body down with his bitemarks, to claim you.
“Damn it” he hissed, pulling you out from you daze. What had just happened? Why did he stop? Was it your fault?
Mortified, you lifted yourself up with your elbows, eyes locking with his ones, but he did not waste any time in pushing your torso back down, hovering over you. You had to know, you needed to understand what was making him falter, when he had no qualms about anything or anyone in this World.
"What's wrong? Am I—" you inquired, breathless, chest raising and falling erratically while the palm of his hand was splayed over your midriff to keep you in place. His touch almost made your skin sizzle, boiling lava over the tender flesh.
"Shut up. — he rasped out, silencing you effortlessly, jaw clenching at the feeling of your skin underneath his fingers — I feel like I could rip you to shreds, if I let myself go".
"Sosuke, I'm fine. I'm not scared" you tried to reassure him, reaching your hand up to graze his cheekbone with your fingertips. But his free hand stopped you, clasping around your wrist tightly as he pinned you down with a glacial glare.
He was on the verge of losing himself. You had never seen him like that, so humanly fragile.
"You don't seem to understand that, if I fucked you the way I want to do it now, I would tear you apart" he hissed, a knot forming between his eyebrows, as the iron grip on your wrist intensified, making you wince softly.
And God, you found yourself wishing he was going to keep his promise in that very moment. His eye glinted in raw desire, your thighs spread wide in front of him showing your glistening intimacy. His cock twitched at the sight. The need to be inside of you was gnawing at him to the point he made up his mind quickly. He needed to have you, but he needed to feel like you wanted him, as if he was the solution to all of your problems. Your lips on his body, your hands around him and your pussy welcoming him inside.
"Ride me. Ride me now" he commanded through gritted teeth.
You gawked, watching how he took a few steps back to remove his clothes. The haori, the uniform, everything fell at his feet, except for his eye-patch. For some reason he had not even tried to remove it. Running your fingers through your hair, your eyes roamed down his body. His pectorals, the chieseled abs, and you were surprised to see that the purple stone once protruding from his stomach was now fully incoporated into him, no more scarring his perfect body. The infamous Hogyoku. There was something else, though, your eyes landed on. His twitching cock, straight as a ramrod, girthy enough to make you question if it would have fit into you.
Hopping down from the desk, your opened uniform fell from your shoulders, as he sat down on the bed, mirroring his pose from when he used to sit on his throne in Las Noches. You felt almost inexperienced in front of him and you probably were, considering the real age gap between you two. Your cheeks boiled, as you finally stood right between his spread legs and you inhaled sharply, as he gripped your hips tightly to help you to straddle him. Squeezing your arse, you felt his tip brush against your opening and you shyly wrapped your hand around his length to line it up to your aching core. Sosuke groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, teeth sinking onto the flesh as he held you tightly against him. It was in that very moment you realized what was wrong with him. He needed you.
“Sosuke…” you whispered, moaning softly, as his tongue ran flatly over your jugular, feeling your pulse as you began to lower yourself down onto his shaft.
He grunted, arms firmly wrapped around your waist, as you let him stretch you open inch by inch. Breathless, blissfully content, you whined, when you finally had him fully sheathed into you. He needed this, he needed you and he kissed you passionately not to allow a single word to escape your lips. Years of yearning, years of solitude and you were perpetually stuck in his head.
“Are you sure Hisagi fucked you properly? You are so… Shit!” he cut himself off, when you began to rotate your hips to find a pace. His ones did not waste any time in meeting yours, thrusting upwards as he heard you whimper from above him.
You had no strength to talk, all you did was riding him, while his hands, soon settled over your hipbones, guided you to a tempo he liked. Sensual, yet rough. Animalistic like the guttural moans he released in your ear. He was reaching spots into you no one had ever reached. The slight sting of pain the moment his tip brushed your cervix made you cry out, mouth hanging open as your nails scratched down his shoulderblades, his muscles flexing as a response.
“Sosuke…” you whispered, half-lidded eyes peering down at him, when your thighs began to tremble. You had no stamina to ride him anymore, you needed his help. Assistance that you tried to obtain by leaving sloppy kisses over his jawline, earning a growl from him.
Flipping you over, your back met the mattress, his hands making sure your thighs were hooked around his waist “Desperate, aren’t you?” he breathed out, sheathing himself back into you slowly, enjoying how you fit him like a glove, squeezing him up perfectly.
Too far gone to retaliate, you kissed him to silence him, moaning into his mouth when he began to thrust into you again. There was no room between you two anymore. His chest was pressed against yours, his movements soon faltering, getting sloppier, as he neared his climax. The moment you shuddered, his tip hitting your g-spot again, your vision got blurry and came with a loud moan he did not bother suffocating. It was enough.
Twitching into your sensitive core, Sosuke gritted his teeth and milked your insides, puffed up with pride of having stained you, Isshin’s daughter, the first born of his adventure in the world of the living. Maybe his thirst for ruining you, for leaving a part of him deep into you, found its root in his hate for Isshin. Indulging into such thoughts now was useless, as he watched you panting underneath him, heavy eyelids and writhing frame.
Sosuke pulled out of you, lying down next to you “What are you thinking about?” he asked, closing his eye and accomodating himself in a better position.
“Everything, but not him”.
He grinned to himself, reaching his hand out to switch the lights off “That’s what I thought” he said, as the darkness enveloped the room.
You sighed, body aching, as you ran your hand over your stomach absent-mindedly. What had you done? Copulating with the enemy, letting him shoot his load into you, and now even spending the night into his bed. For once, however, self-deprecating was not in your plans. You felt good, happy even. You had tomorrow to deal with your problems and tonight to forget your moral codes. Pulling the blankets over you two, Sosuke kept his distance, unfamaliar with the thought of someone else sleeping next to him.
The silence swallowing you two must have spoken volumes for you to say “If you want, I can leave…”.
But he did not mind, not when you felt his hand finding yours underneath the blankets “Stay”.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! I should apologize for the filth you have just read. Instead, I am already planning other devious, despicable things to happen between the reader and Sosuke. Ah, me and my unhealthy obsession. See you in the next chapter and thank you so much for your kudos and hits! Do not be afraid to leave a feedback, I love interacting with my readers! Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!
Until next,
X O X O
TAGS: @onyxino @pseudowho @seireiteihellbutterfly
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starrclown · 3 days
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Made a part 2.
These are alot more personal than the last lol.
I hate how we treat BLT Trio.
Pigsy is litteraly Mk's dad but he never gets any credit for it. People characterize him as just a grumpy man that makes noodles and is Tang's husband but fo yall not remember those season 1 episodes about Pigsy. I love him so much why is there nit more just Pigsy content.
Tang is not THAT weak yall. Yes he's not physically strong but he's smart, he's helped on countless missions, he's learning to control his abilities, and will stand up to villains to help his friends. Guys he's not a helpless baby that needs Pigsy to save him. He's his own person.
SANDY. GUYS I LOVE SANDY ☹️. There is BARELY any fanart for him. He's so cool guys. Like why fo we not care about Sandy. He's litteraly one of the main characters!!
I love LMK and everything but we NEED more BLT Trio guys.
StarClown's art ☆
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skiesofrosie · 3 days
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sometimes, it's hard to be good
pairing: joe liebgott x reader
genre: fluff, conversations about life
a/n: horrendously self-indulgent, but i hope you enjoy.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“I don’t think I’m a very good person,” you blurt.
“The fuck?” Joe says, confused.
It weighs on your shoulders like a stack of bricks, a truth that sends your mind into a frenzy. Joe noticed it a few days earlier, the way you started to cook, and wash the dishes, despite the half and half system you both have. The letters you sent to check-in on old acquaintances, despite them having never bothered with you. Your choice of books, a sudden affinity for self-help that you shove into your most hidden shelves.
“Are you having a fuckin’ identity crisis or somethin’?” Joe stopped you, just as you were about to take care of both his and your laundry for the third time that week. “Or do I pick up the chores too slowly, ‘cause I can do better.”
“No! No!” You said, a little flustered, then laughed to cover it up. “I’m just doin’ it all ‘cause I care about you.”
He kissed your forehead then, a little unsure. Truth be told, the overcompensation stems from the lack of doing enough–or at least, feeling like it. Joe is your other half, and he picks up well on his half too. If you cook, he will clean. If you do laundry once, he’ll take care of it next (even if he tends to mix the whites and the colors). But the insecurity seeps into your head like poison, the misbelief now running through your blood, and it makes you shoulder more than you actually can.
You slowed down too, because you realized the need to feel like a good person is inherently selfish. To really be good comes from the choices you make, and sometimes, the greater good requires you to be the villain.
Right now though, that’s all mixed up in your head, which means you feel like a piece of shit.
“Where’d ya get that idea?” He asks, now setting Dick Tracy down to pay you full attention. “Is someone tellin’ ya that shit? ‘Cause I’ll kill a–”
“It’s me,” you interject, shaking your head as you slap your book to your chest. “That's what I think.”
Curiosity washes over, as he furrows his eyebrows together and stares at you as if you’re dumb. The both of you are sitting on your balcony, the sun shining streaks of light across his face, and you wonder if you’re worthy of a man as strong and beautiful as him. 
The summer today is glorious, a little sweat trickling down your temples, but better than the way your nose freezes in the winter. Joe and you have made this a routine every Sunday, afternoons spent outside in each other’s company, to catch up on some reading. Your little apartment faces the San Francisco life, and even if the stench of running gas is discomforting, it’s still home. For Joe, it’s homeostasis; a reminder that the war is now behind him, and the domesticity you both have always dreamed of, is now real.
Today though, in the pits of your overthinking, you’re hardly reading the words as you scan the pages.
“Hey,” he gently probes. “What’s goin’ on up there?”
His fingers are creeping towards yours fiddling with each other on your lap.
“I,” you start, but find it difficult to reason. When his hand slips into yours, squeezing it in encouragement, you continue, but not without a sigh. “I found a photo from when we were in high school, and…I realized how many of them I don’t talk to anymore. Friends that have drifted apart, friends that I’ve cut off, or they’ve cut me off. It got me thinking, really thinking, about all the decisions I’ve made, all the people I’ve loved and lost, all the mistakes I’ve made and it all crashed down on me like I hit a brick wall head-on with your cab.”
You stop mid-thought, paying a good look at him listening intently to you, eyes a twinge downcast.
“It made me think that maybe I’m not doing enough, or I’m doing nothing right. That I’ve been selfish, and I have this urge to uproot my entire life and start afresh,” you finish.
He looks into the distance, fingers still entwined with yours as he collates the rush of thoughts. It makes his heart ache to know that you feel this way, because to him, the world owes you for your kindness. But he admires the way you know when it’s time to abandon your good and patience, because it fails to be returned.
“Joe?” He hears you call.
He speaks. “If that’s your logic, than all of us are fuckin’ shitheads.”
You gawk at his response, sputtering, “what do you mean?”
“Sweetheart,” he says, then turns to you unflinchingly. “I spent three years shooting Krauts just ‘cause I could. I did what I was told, convinced myself that I’d be doing the world a favor. Those were actual fuckin’ choices I made, and now I have to live with ‘em in my head.”
“But,” you say, “those people were shooting at you Joe.”
“Not all of ‘em,” he says, shaking his head. “Not all of ‘em.”
A silence falls over you both. It never occurred to you how difficult it is to actually be good–to make the right decision all the time. Even the sun, with its daylight to the skies, streaming into people’s homes to wake them up for another day, blinds you if you look at it for too long. It burns when you get too close, blazes ‘til there’s a drought.
We are all made up of imperfections, after all.
“We fuck up,” Joe adds, quietly. “Hell, we fuck up with each other too, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess,” you smile, “you caused all my whites to go pink last week.”
“Hey,” he lets go of your hand to smack you. “I bought ya your favorite cookies at Betty’s to make up for it!”
You can’t help the laugh that breaks loose of you, despite the heaviness in your chest. In an infinite list, one of the reasons you love him is his ability to pull you out of your own mind, and make you laugh ‘til tears pool in your eyes. 
“Seriously though, we ain’t bad people just ‘cause we fuck up. We’re shitheads if we don’t try to do better,” he says, his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles. He throws his other hand up, the comic falling onto the ground. “I try everyday to be a better fuckin’ person, but I slip up. You will too. But at least ya try, you know?”
You know he’s right. Like the chocolate cookies he bought for you to make good on the clothes he ruined; like the moments you apologize to each other in petty fights, and figure out a way to make things better–even if you falter, all there is to it, is taking the next step. So even if you still worry, you can at least do that. And what better than to have Joe Liebgott by your side, a man who will never speak anything less than the truth.
“Baby steps, right?” You nod.
He nods, standing up, walking to you and pulling you to your feet. He slips his arms around your waist, as you cross yours behind his neck, pecking you once, twice, and you’re about to make out with him on your balcony–
‘Til a blaring honk from the road makes you jump apart.
“Fuck!” He yells at the road, and you wince, but with amusement. “I’m tryna get some, okay!”
This time you swat at his shoulder, as he guffaws, starts leaving kisses on your neck. You melt into him.
Baby steps, definitely.
“Oh and sweetheart,” he breathes against your skin, and you hum. “You’re the best fuckin’ person I know on this planet.”
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
@she-wolf09231982 a little snippet of Joe :D
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mermaidchan05 · 2 days
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Vesuvia Weekly: Smiles that Grew Rarer
Thinking about Asra’s relieved smile. The little glimmer of sunlight after the dark, a brief respite after waking up from a nightmare, a tiny laugh after a spell went wrong and frightened everyone, the teary-eyed smile when he found his apprentice was safe. Thinking about the way that relieved smile might still peek in every once in a while. But now he knows how strong his apprentice is. Now he can show all the other smiles he kept secret before: smiles of pride, of gratitude, of love. Thinking about how his relief has faded to a constant, comfortable feel of hope and peace.
Thinking about Julian’s theatrical, sinister smile. The sneer carefully created to shout: I am the villain of this story. The expression he used whenever he needed to, which became far too often far too quickly. Thinking about how he doesn’t need to play the bad guy anymore… not unless he wants to. Thinking about how nice of a change it is for Julian, to be a hero to those who love him.
Thinking about Nadia’s tightest, falsest smiles. The smile she gave whenever she was forced to pretend she knew exactly what was going on despite her lost memories. The smile that hid the building pressure of a headache that would have put anyone else out of commission, but that Nadia must push through. The smile that lied: “Why yes, I would love to continue this inane conversation.” Thinking of how whenever she gives a smile like that now, someone can reach for her hand, and the smile can grow more genuine. Thinking about how she doesn’t need to fake her knowledge or confidence anymore. She doesn’t need to pretend she knows what she’s doing… she knows, and she is going to show it.
Just thinking of smiles that have gotten more and more rare now… and how that’s a good thing.
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ratgrinders · 2 days
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i feel like i should clarify that whenever im talking abt kipperlily/the other rat grinders' motivations i'm talking about it FROM THEIR POINT OF VIEW. and their point of view is inherently biased and flawed! i'm more interested in examining why a character does something than trying to defend them without nuance.
i think the fucked up reasoning is what makes them interesting! kipperlily is unequivocally wrong in her assessment of the bad kids, and i dont think shes right to think that "magical hardship" gives you a tangible benefit in school (beyond the more meta reasoning of npcs vs pcs). i can understand why people hate her. those same reasons are why i like her! villains with flawed reasoning that spend so long trying to justify their own thought processes to themselves are my favorite type of villain.
i know people got a lot of strong feelings about her, and thats very understandable lol. i just know villain discourse gets pretty heated in fandoms, and im hoping people dont get too caught up in discussing whether a character is right or wrong and just have fun stanning (or hating) to our hearts content lol.
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