#weak modern men era
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#okay#you should know#fake people#fake friends#am i surprised? no#fake laugh#fake conversation#everything fake#trust no one#trust no bitch#weak modern men era
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Alr bro I am BACK from the Malevolent Kitchen- So this whole thing takes place in the Heian era, when Sukuna was at his strongest and walking around as a four armed, tall monster of a man (he has two massive dicks I am not being told otherwise don't even play, lad)
Reader (do I even gotta say it? I'm real predictable let's be fr 💀) as Sukuna's favourite shrine keeper- as he's speaking to some sorcerers (prolly begging for mercy or smth), he calls the reader over and commands him to strip and warm his (massive) cocks, all the while the poor sorcerers are just fucking sitting there. Eventually, he gets tired of the reader just warming his cocks and commands him to start moving, scoffing when the reader is too slow for his liking- ultimately he just grabs the reader's hips with his lower pair of arms, using him like a fleshlight,,,,,,,
ALSO if and only if you are feeling up to it,,,,, skip to modern day when Sukuna gets incarnated again and is immediately like okay where the fuck is reader (he's been alive with Uraume, which is why he hasn't physically aged, either) so he can drag the reader into his innate domain and get his dick wet after centuries of no bf :((( kinks- degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism
ఌ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
꧁ 𝙍𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
w.c. › 9.1k
Warnings › first time ever writing Sukuna. Reader is trans male and he has breasts. Use of breasts and chest is interchangeable. Pussy, cunt, and hole are also used. Sukuna is still very mean but I made him just a little bit nicer, cuz romance lmao. Mentions of suicide. Boku is the JPN male version of I. Reader slurs his speech a lot
Kinks › degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism, nipple play, creampie, breast/chest play
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
Wakizashi.
That’s what your dad called it. A Wakizashi. Shorter than a katana, larger than a dagger. The only weapon a civilian could handle in broad daylight without being seen as a threat. Many used it as a way to commit suicide.
He told you to use it for that reason.
It was the only good thing you could do.
The Fujiwara clan was powerful. No doubt about it. And while your father wasn’t the strongest, he was well respected. Many were excited when his wife was pregnant with you. Even when you came out as a girl, they weren’t too disappointed. Even a woman could be a strong sorcerer.
But you never did.
You had a curse technique.
But it was weak. It was fully based on defense.
The technique to manipulate shadows. But it was only your own. You could hide well but how does that help you in combat?
Didn’t help when you started spewing “nonsense” of not being a woman.
That earned you multiple whippings.
Everyone in the clan stopped paying attention to you after that moment. Your back covered in scars.
And the one large scar across your face.
Your Wakizashi flickered in the soft pale moonlight. The gold casing shining proudly. You took great care of it.
The harsh patters of feet caught your attention. You stood up from your makeshift mat, shuffling over to the small crack in your dilapidated cabin. It was practically a box. You glanced out, seeing multiple assassins hurriedly rushing out.
It looked to be the entirety of the Sun, Moon, and Stars Squad and then Five Empty Generals. Odd.
You shrugged it off, going back to lay down. You turned your attention back to your Wakizashi. It was the only thing you had in this box. You flicked your wrists, practicing your technique.
Even though you were weak, you still practiced everyday. With a sigh, you collapsed onto the bed. The rebellions you used to do as a child seemed so silly now. Cutting your hair, bathing with men, wearing male kimonos. Just to be locked away in the corner of your own home.
The door was unlocked but they made sure to make you fear even pushing it open.
Your mother took pity on you, being the one to deliver you food. You were sure that if she didn’t, you would’ve starved to death. But she seemed to be late today.
The soft sound of wind creaked against the old box. It shook slightly, always threatening to just collapse over you. Your eyes fluttered closed, clutching your Wakizashi close. It was only a few minutes later when the sounds of screaming caught your attention.
“He’s here!”
“Do not run away! We are the Toh!”
You sat up, staring at your door as the screams women, men, and even children reverberated through the cabin. Your grip tightened around the Wakizashi, bringing it up to your chest. Slowly, you crawled over to the door, pulling it inward to peek outside.
The sight… was horrific.
Blood. Blood everywhere. Weapons scattered. Arms detached. Heads rolling off bodies. Even a few bodies didn’t have the upper half. Many sliced into pieces.
You wanted to vomit. Who was doing this?
The Toh… was defeated.
You stepped outside the cabin, your bare feet touching the soft grass. The grass was colored red as you walked over to the piles of bodies. Your eyes scanning them, being able to name at least a fraction of the corpses. Underneath one, your mother’s eyes stared right at you.
Your breathing hitched, your hand clamping around your mouth. Despite the cruelty they gave you—it was difficult seeing them like this. The further you walked to the entrance of the Toh estate, the more gruesome each body became.
A few just being blood splattered against the floor.
“(Name).”
You shrieked, feeling a hand grasp your leg. It wasn’t someone you knew but her eyes were filled with fear. Blood trickled down her face.
“Run…. For your own sake.” She whispered.
Your eyes trailed over her body before you backed away.
The lower half of her body was gone.
Her arm fell down as her eyes closed.
You needed to run. If people as powerful as your clan were dropping like flies, you’d be killed immediately if this thing came to see you.
You began to run. Ignoring the bodies you had to jump or step over. You kept your eyes straight ahead. The Wakizashi tight in your grip. You hoped and prayed you would make it out free.
“Sukuna, is there any you want for dinner later?”
A horrid gasp left your body as you skid to a stop.
Your dad’s head hung from the grasp of a person. They were dressed in a kimono, short white hair. They held your father’s head up to a… thing behind them. The thing took your father’s head and examined it before tossing it aside.
“Not that one. Look for another.”
Its voice shook your body. The two of them were speaking as if they were looking at meat. Did they eat humans? But the white haired one looked like a human. You didn’t get the chance to think further when they suddenly turned over to you.
“Was something there?” The white haired one asked.
They saw nothing. The spot you once stood was empty, the only sight being corpses. They turned over to the thing, Sukuna.
“Go look for acceptable meat, Uraume.”
“Yes, Sukuna.”
Uraume began to move a few of the bodies about, looking for one that was acceptable for Sukuna. Sukuna hummed, cracking his neck as he looked around. His staggering form covered in blood. He stared in the direction of where you once stood.
You kept silent, staring right back at him. You had hastily summoned your curse technique, making yourself invisible to the naked eye. Your curse technique allowed you to hide in the shadows and even manipulate your own to hide yourself.
But it wasn’t strong, you could never hold it for longer than five minutes. And you haven’t eaten all day, you were weak. Hiding yourself physically didn’t hide any noises you made. So you clamped your lips shut, trying to not breathe, hoping he’d look away.
If you moved, he’d surely hear your footsteps, especially with how quiet it was. Your knuckles turned white as you clamped tightly at your Wakizashi.
Unable to hold it any longer, you let out a soft huff, pulling in as many air as possible.
But that was enough for Sukuna.
A large puff of air attacked you as you lost control of your technique, suddenly becoming visible. You collapsed to the ground, crying out in shock as you stared up at Sukuna.
He was large. Four arms and two faces. His eyes narrowed at you, glancing over you as he began to smirk. Blood covered his body. You knew your father and mother’s blood was mixed in there.
“How could I have missed you? You puny little thing.” He reached over to grab your hair but it went right through your body. Sukuna huffed, slightly confused on what just happened.
Your other ability, besides just becoming one with shadows, was the short ability to make your body unable to be touched. Sukuna pulled back clamping his fist before thrusting it into your chest.
It went through, but he didn’t kill you. Sukuna pulled his arm away, his head tilting. He didn’t look angry, on the contrary. He looked amused.
You quickly pulled the sheath off your Wakizashi and stood up on shaky legs. You had never fought. Never even used the Wakizashi against a real opponent besides a tree.
Sukuna chuckled. “Do your best.” He said, grinning. It was no encouragement. He didn’t even move into a fighting stance. Just from a look at you, he knew he was going to win.
“Domain Expansion: Moonlight Paradise.”
Dark matter spilled out from the ground as it formed into an orb around you and Sukuna. Your domain wasn’t strong. It wasn’t anything that helped you win fights.
It was a paradise.
A crescent moon shined, adding light to the otherwise dark domain. Spider lilies grew from the ground, surrounding you like a barrier of protection. A large sakura tree sprouted from the ground, growing tall as it quickly blossomed.
You shivered as you looked up at Sukuna. A feeling of bile filled your throat as you doubled over and coughed out blood. Sukuna looked at you with disgust, the hell was this?
“Is this your best?” He asked, stepping over to you. He was hoping for some sort of fight. But this was all you had to offer? A piss poor attempt at a domain.
You held out your Wakizashi, handing the hilt to Sukuna.
“If… die…” You winced, unsure of how to explain yourself. You weren’t taught to speak. Not after your whipping at age 9. And with everyone no longer speaking to you, you hadn’t spoken in years. Your voice was hoarse, struggling to work after years of being dormant.
You made the effort to write and read. But you stopped speaking. You hated your voice. This female voice that wasn’t yours.
Even now, just hearing your voice made you angry.
It’s a shame you were going to die with this voice.
“If…I…must die…You…willdo..bymy…Wakizashi.”
“Boku?” Sukuna muttered, staring at you. His eyes roamed your body. You weren’t a man. Not by the sight of your ample chest. You were wearing a female kimono. But your hair was cut short by a blade, judging by the jagged ends.
“Boku!” You screamed, glaring at him. You weren’t going to die being misgendered. You were going to die with the pride of being a male.
Sukuna grabbed the Wakizashi. It was small in his large hand. He lazily spun it around, making you slightly worried that he’d break it.
“You call yourself a man but you give up so easily?” He tossed the Wakizashi to your feet. “Pick it up. You have a technique, use it.”
You bent down, picking it up. “Nouse…strongerthan… me.” You could tell he had a bit of trouble understanding you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted your death to be over with.
“Why the domain?”
“diein…pretty…place..”
Sukuna glanced around. Your domain seemed to be just for aesthetic. There wasn’t any hint of anything else brewing inside. Nothing that was waiting to attack him. You really seemed set on dying without a fight.
You knew your place quite well.
He liked that.
“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”
Your own peaceful domain was torn to shreds as red covered the sky. A large Buddhist shrine grew out of the ground behind Sukuna. Skulls decorated it. It looked to be human skulls. The ground beneath you became dark water.
But your spider lilies stayed alive. The crescent moon still shining down on you.
Sukuna sat down on his throne, his leg resting against the arm. He stared down at you, his eyes roaming you from his new position over you.
The Sakura tree died, disappearing like a puff of smoke. You collapsed to the floor and coughed heavily, the toll of opening your domain already affecting your body.
“Are you from the Toh?” He suddenly asked.
You mutely nodded.
“Look at me when I speak to you.”
You glanced up, trying to ignore the growing pit of fear in your belly. He smirked, leaning forward. One of his hands resting on his knee. The other holding up his chin.
“I find you interesting. I’ll allow you to live, as my shrine keeper. Once I’m bored, I’ll kill you.”
“inmy…domain..?”
“If that’s what you desire.”
Despite the voices in your head tell you to not accept, you nodded. You knew at most, this curse would only let you live for a day or two before he kills you. At the very least, you’d get to enjoy Earth’s beauty in the fullest.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“You’re filthy.”
A basin of water poured over your head as you shivered outside, fully nude. Your arms tightened around your chest as you were soaked twice before a rag began to rub against your body.
It was Uraume. They weren’t impressed that Sukuna had chosen to keep you alive. You were weak, what did Sukuna gain from keeping you?
But Uraume didn’t question it. They knew their limitations.
“When was the last time you bathed?”
You winced, being roughly manhandled to face Uraume as they kneeled down, scrubbing between your legs.
“River…bathein..River.”
Uraume hummed. Their hand trailed upward, unabashedly scrubbing your pussy before moving to your ass. “What’s your technique? Or were you not blessed with one?”
“Shadows.”
“How does it work?”
You bit your lip, unable to stop the slight giggle when Uraume moved up to your ribcage. They stopped for a second, believing they had hurt you until you gave a slight smile. They huffed and continued on, making sure no part of your body was left untouched.
With the moonlight shining down on you, you glanced down at Uraume’s shadow. You reached out and gently poked the shadow’s cheek. Uraume stopped, looking up at you with wide eyes.
You couldn’t help but grin. You grabbed the shadow’s hair, twirling a strand. A strand of Uraume’s hair began to twirl as if a finger was doing it. But there was nothing holding it up.
“You can manipulate shadows?”
“Mhn…justtouch.” You slurred. “Can’t…domuch…wasn’t…taught.”
You stepped away, shyly smiling as you slowly disappeared into your own shadow. Uraume hummed, nodding themselves as they watched you come back up.
“Can’t…hidefor…long. Noise…canbe…heard.”
“Do you have no offense attack?”
You shook your head. “Touch…couldbe…offensive…buti…can’t… can’t handle…weapons..too…weak.”
“I don’t believe that. Every curse can be offensive. You simply wasn’t trained properly.” Uraume walked over, grabbing the basin filled with water. They brought over your head and dumped it, ignoring your slight shriek at the cold water.
“It won’t matter now. Sukuna more than likely won’t let you live longer than a day. It’s a shame.” They draped a small towel over your body. “Use this to dry off. I’ll retrieve your clothing.”
As you dried off, you thought about what they said.
Was that true?
Could you use your technique for offense?
It made sense. You were never taught to try as you had quickly mastered hiding first. And then the whole problem of your stunts of being a male, it’s no wonder you stuck to defense.
It was the only way you could protect yourself from such hatred.
It didn’t matter now though. You were going to die in a day, anyway.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
It’s been months.
It’s been months and you were still alive.
It was shocking. After the first day, you were so sure you were going to die. But Sukuna didn’t even pay attention to you. He walked right past you. He hardly talks to you at all.
You stuck to cleaning his shrine, most of the time.
Even Uraume seemed surprised you even made it to a week. But soon, they started to treat you… decently? They showed you how to cook certain meals and if they were up to it, taught you ways to use your curse technique in an offensive manner.
“Speak slowly.” Uraume said, sitting across from you in the small room. You and Uraume lived in a small minka, just a few feet away from Sukuna’s shrine. He seemed to have two shrines, one in his domain and the other here.
You sighed, nodding your head. Uraume would sometimes hold speaking lessons. They had gotten tired of having to listen to your almost incoherent way of speech.
“I…wield…theknife—”
“—The. Knife.”
“The…Knife…”
“Continue.”
“The…Knife…to…cut…meat.”
“Good enough. Go bathe.”
You nod, grabbing your Wakizashi and walking outside. Since the minka was small, the shower area was just outside the home. Your robes pooled around your feet as you filled in the basin, yawning to yourself.
“You’re still here?”
A chill rushes up your spine as you look back, gasping in shock. It was Sukuna. He stood only a few feet away from you, his eyes trailing down your nude body. You blush, using your hands to cover your crotch and chest from his gaze.
“whatdo…you..mean..? Why…wouldi..leave?”
Sukuna smirked. “You have no sense of free will. You had multiple attempts to run away. Uraume can’t sense you when you use your technique. Yet you’re still here.” He walks over to you, kneeling down to your level. You gulp, wondering if this is the moment of your demise.
His hand reaches out, coming into close contact with your face.
Your eyes clamp shut, leaning away.
But he doesn’t hurt you.
You feel a hand squeeze your right breast. You open one eye and look down. Sukuna’s hand squeezes your breast as he hummed in satisfaction.
“It’s soft.” He said.
“Mngh?!” You shriek, unable to really move in fear he’d tear you in two.
Two of his hands grasp both of your legs, spreading them open as you cry out. You were practically manhandled, spread open for his eyes to see. Your hands flung to his chest, embarrassment filling your chest as you tried to calm down your heavy breathing.
“If you wish to keep living, become useful to me.”
“Useful…?”
“I already have a cook. I need pleasure in other ways.”
A feather like touch teased your cunt. You gasped, looking down to see his one free hand slightly teasing your cunt. You’ve never touched yourself down there. It felt odd. You didn’t understand how this could give him any sort of pleasure.
Sukuna seemed to notice your confusion as he chuckled lightly, manhandling you to rest on your back, legs still held up high.
“I will simply train you to handle me.” Two fingers sinked into your tight heat. You felt your body thrash against his hold, believing he was somehow killing you. It felt strange. So strange to have something inside you.
Was this apart of his technique?
Would you explode if he curled his finger?!
Sukuna chuckled, enjoying your fearful expression. “Relax. Pleasure will soon consume you.” The fingers began to slowly move in and out, rubbing against your wet walls. You gasped, toes slightly curled as something weird began to burrow in your belly.
His thumb rubbed against your clit, causing you to cry out. That seemed to be your weakness. For the next few minutes, he slowly teased your cunt open, occasionally rubbing your clit. Your body stopped thrashing but you couldn’t help but arch your back, biting your lip as screams threatened to live your throat.
“eeeeh…pee..pee..!” You cried out, tears welling in your eyes. Sukuna’s fingers didn’t stop, instead they continued. Even as you continued to cry that you were about to piss, Sukuna only laughed.
Your cunt clamped tightly around his fingers as you felt your body spasm. A moan left your throat as something washed over you. You felt…good?
What was this? Why did you feel so sleepy?
With what little strength you had left, you grabbed your Wakizashi and held it against his chest, glaring up at him. Sukuna released your legs and grabbed your hand, simply having to squeeze it to have you release the Wakizashi.
You felt too sluggish to actually put up a fight.
“You orgasm but still have the energy to use a weapon.” He laughed to himself. “You truly are interesting.”
He stood up and walked away, leaving you on the floor, legs spread open.
Just…. What the fuck was that?
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
Orgasm.
It was an orgasm.
And Sukuna had been giving it to you constantly.
He appeared more frequently at the minka. He grabbed you whenever he pleased, even if Uraume was in the area. Spreading your thighs as he fingered your heat. He would sometimes squeeze your breasts, always commenting that it was his favorite body part of yours.
You were even forbidden from wearing underwear.
Easy access, apparently.
Uraume didn’t seem to comment or care about this new development. They simply helped you bathe whenever you were too tired. You still had your occasional lesson on speech and offense but you weren’t making much progress.
But somehow, the crazy murder, Uraume was encouraging. Believing it was just difficult for you to let go of old habits, especially in speech. You still couldn’t believe that they were a ruthless killer by how nicely they treated you.
It had been close to a year now.
You still thought about your clan. The massacre that happened right in front of you. But you couldn’t mourn them. Not after how they treated you. Such cruelty.
Sukuna and Uraume treated you like a male.
How could monsters treat you so well but not your own family?
There were days Uraume and Sukuna were gone. Those days you knew they were killing some other clan. Killing any sorcerers that dared stumble onto their path. But you never ran away.
Despite the amount of times you could.
You just never did.
Your fingers traced against Sukuna’s shrine, making sure there was no dust collecting on it. This was one of the rare occasions you were in his domain. But there were other sorcerers here—they were on their knees, pleading for their life.
You didn’t look at them at all, not wanting to be reminded of their humanity. To be reminded that Sukuna was a ruthless killer. That you were lucky you could stand near him and not fear death.
“(Name).”
You glanced up, looking over to see Sukuna motion for you to come over. Your bare feet pattered against the dark water as you went over to him, standing up straight as you waited for whatever he could want.
“Sit.”
When you moved to kneel, Sukuna grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap. You cried out, feeling your body freeze at the sudden closeness. You’ve never been so close to him. Being able to feel his breathing. The slow swell of his chest.
He began speaking to the sorcerers again but you didn’t pay attention. Hypnotized by this new position. Your hand slowly rested against his chest, your head leaning on his shoulder. You looked so small against him.
You couldn’t help but sniff the air, wondering if he had a scent.
He didn’t.
You stayed on his lap for a moment, wondering if he had just wanted you to cuddle him but you felt something twitching against your crotch. It was thick. Being strained by his robes. You wondered if it was just his knee but it kept twitching.
It was strange. It pressed against your cunt, earning a whimper from you. You had gotten so sensitive down there, easily orgasming when Sukuna touched you.
There was a tug at your robes as it was pulled down, causing you to gasp. Your breasts plopped out but you quickly covered them. It was luck that you had your back facing the sorcerers. Though they seemed to have stopped talking—only their soft whimpering and cries heard.
Sukuna didn’t say a word as he pulled open his own robe, two cocks springing free. You stared at it in shock. You’d never seen anything like it. It’d been years since you saw male genitalia. Did all males have two? That seemed a bit much.
You were glad you didn’t have any. It looked to be a pain to have to walk with something so huge between your legs. They pressed against your pussy—teasing your entrance. You backed away a little, only to have Sukuna grip your waist with his two lower hands.
“I trained you for this.” He simply said before turning his attention back to the pitiful sorcerers.
Training?
That training was for this?
Is that even safe?
You felt nervous. That… thing was supposed to go inside you? It wouldn’t kill you? You slowly sat up, hesitantly hovering over his cocks. The thought of putting two in so quickly, you didn’t think you could handle it. So you settled for one at a time.
The bottom cock slowly nestled inside your cunt as you eased it inside. It wasn’t painful but you didn’t like the feeling. It was odd, different than Sukuna’s fingers. His hands squeezed your waist once you finally bottomed out.
You glanced up, seeing his eyebrow raised. It was easy to tell that he was amused you could only fit one. You pouted, burying your face in his chest. He couldn’t blame you. You didn’t even know cocks could go inside a person! How could you fit two in the first try.
His second cock rested against your tummy. It looked a bit dejected. You kinda felt bad.
Sukuna and the sorcerers continued their conversation. You couldn’t pay it much attention. Your pussy clenching tightly around his cock. Your fingers clutched at his robe as you took deep breaths, beginning to feel weird with the thick cock spreading you full.
The sound of someone screaming caught your attention, but when you made the effort to turn around, Sukuna kept you still. He pushed you to rest against his chest, face smushed against his shoulder.
Someone was killed.
It was silent for a few more minutes before the remaining sorcerers began to speak about festivals they would hold in Sukuna’s honor. Sukuna’s cock twitched inside you. Huh, he must find that arousing.
Your eyes fluttered, sleep almost taking you over until Sukuna’s hands tightened around your waist. You felt your body be lift up until he slammed you back down. Your back arched as you screamed out.
The pain of the sudden movement somehow made you feel good. He bounced you on his cock as if you were nothing but a plaything. His grunts filling the domain. You were so happy he couldn’t see the sorcerers eyes on you, watching as you were used by the King of Curses for his own personal pleasure.
The thought of anyone in your clan knowing too brought fear inside your heart.
Any sort of pleasure you were feeling left. Your eyes fluttered closed as you just allowed Sukuna to take whatever he pleased. The reality of your situation had hit. You were nothing.
A toy for Sukuna.
Pitiful.
You were fucking pitiful.
Something warm erupted inside your heat, coating your walls. You let out a shuddered gasp, unable to ignore the small amount of pleasure that brought you. There was something white coating your tummy from his second cock.
Was this sperm?
It didn’t matter.
You couldn’t live like this anymore.
You proved your father right.
You were only good for one thing.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
Wakizashi.
The Wakizashi was smaller than a katana, bigger than a dagger. A weapon civilians could carry around safely.
A weapon many used in suicide.
It was midnight. The moon shining down at you. You stood deep in the forest, bare feet touching the soft grass. You always loved the beauty of nature. The one thing that couldn’t be tainted.
You wore the female kimono you were forced to wear in the Toh. Despite the trauma, you still held the kimono close to you. It was made by your mother.
Your Wakizashi was held tightly in your hand. Its sharp blade glistening in the pale moonlight. You slowly widen your stance, arms gently moving into position as you whispered those faithful words.
“Domain Expansion: Midnight Paradise.”
The paradise soon engulfed you. The familiar spider lilies blooming around you. Sakura petals fluttering from the makeshift sky. It was peaceful.
The ground, however, was dark water.
You’d never done that before. Sukuna must’ve rubbed off on you. A bitter laugh left you. You really allowed a curse to take you—allowing it to plant itself into your heart.
The Wakizashi felt heavy in your grip. Even as you placed the blade against your neck, your hand shook. It rattled in your hand as tears streamed down your face. You didn’t even know why you were hesitating. Sukuna didn’t like you.
He used you for pleasure—he said it himself.
You were simply doing him a favor.
Your grip tightened as you sighed. It would be okay. This is what you always wanted.
Maybe, you’ll be born to a happy family.
The blade cut clean through your throat, blood oozing out. You dropped the Wakizashi as you collapsed. Your eyes fluttered closed as you accepted your death.
Only for you to realize you weren’t bleeding anymore.
You reached up and touched your throat, feeling a scaring instead of the open wound. It… healed?!
“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”
“You humans are amusing.” The calming paradise bursts—Sukuna’s shrine appearing in front of you. The spider lilies stayed, curling around you as if it was comforting you. “You seem to have forgotten you belong to me.”
Sukuna appeared on the throne, staring you down with a glare. “I choose when you die. I will grant you the freedom of death. Now, come here.”
You slowly sat up, staring at him in shock. You had so many questions. How? Why? What did he do to make you live?
“Come here. Now.” He said, his tone stern. You stood up on shaky legs, slowly walking over to him. His body seemed larger than before. His eyes narrowing at every movement you took.
Sukuna grabbed your kimono as soon as you were close enough and tore it open. It ripped to shreds, falling to your feet in minutes. You held back your tears, keeping your eyes on the ground.
“(Name), you will look me in the eye when I speak to you.”
You glanced up, feeling your body hiccup as your tears began to flow. Sukuna simply stared at you, his eyes roaming your nude body. He stood up and gripped your face, moving your face upwards.
You expected anger. His cruelty to show for your actions. But his thumb gently traced the scaring across your face. It was from the whipping back then. It was jaggeder, covering your left eye to your right cheek. It was pure luck that you could even see from that eye.
“This body,” his hands trail down to your throat, tracing your new scar across your throat, “isn’t yours anymore. It’s mine. If you wish to die so badly it’ll be my hands.”
His grip tightened, causing you to gasp, your hands clutching at his arm. He stared you down, eyes showing no sign of any heart. But he didn’t strangle you. He moved down, grasping your right breast.
“Humans are insignificant. You should be grateful that I keep you alive. Your only purpose is to please me.” He pushed you into the ground as you gasped out, staring up at him as he kneeled down, tearing off his own robes.
You parted your legs, not even attempting to fight back. But you didn’t want to fight back. You wanted him.
Sukuna smirked. “Some man you are. Whoring yourself so easily.”
“itsokay…becauseits…Sukuna…” You whispered, giving him a soft smile through your tears. Sukuna froze for a moment, staring down at you as he grunted in anger. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you close, rubbing his cocks against your pussy.
“You know your place now?”
“Mmmmh. Sukuna’s…”
Sukuna chuckled, his lips slightly tugging into a smile. It was odd. You felt safe in his presence. The dark thoughts swirling in your brain felt like nonsense when you were near him. But you didn’t know why.
It felt counterintuitive to feel safe in the arms of a man that committed a massacre.
His degradation felt like care. He used a technique to save you.
He must care about you.
Even if the way he showed it was cruel.
Perhaps you weren’t mentally sane.
More than likely.
You reached over, grasping two of Sukuna’s hands and bringing it to your breasts. He easily squeezed them both, pulling at your nipples. A shuddered breath left your lips as you whimpered.
“You must be punished—for damaging my possession.” You feel his cocks teasing your pussy. There was no getting out of it. You’ll be taking both at the same time.
Slowly, inch by inch, his two cocks sinked into your pussy. It was painful—nothing you could have ever imagine. Your breathing shuddered, hands gripping at his shoulder for some form of relief.
How could anyone like this?
Two of his hands gripped your breasts while the other two held your waist down, keeping you still. You wanted to thrash around, pull away due to the pain but he was too strong. But even though it was so painful, your cunt clenched around his cocks.
Your hands moved downwards, tracing his abs as you giggled to yourself. Being so close to him, you could finally take a good look at him.
The black markings all over his body. The second face. His four large arms.
He looked better in the moonlight.
Your hand moved away from his chest, reaching over to grab your Wakizashi. With a swiftness, one of Sukuna’s hands grabbed your wrist.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Wakizashi.”
You managed to pull your wrist away and grab the Wakizashi. You used your other hand to grab one of his and place it over the other gripping the Wakizashi. Sukuna’s eyes stayed on you, his eyebrows raising as he watched you with curiosity.
“Myheart…and….Wakizashi…belongto…Sukuna…Ryomen.”
A childish grin spread on your lips as you leaned up and gently kissed Sukuna’s hand that gripped yours. You looked up, unsure if Sukuna understood you. He seemed to have trouble understanding your form of speech.
But the look he gave you was scary. It was as if he was angry but also… lustful?
He released his grip on your hand and reached up, grabbing the back of your head as he smashed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widen, your hand releasing the Wakizashi. It clattered onto the floor before being pushed away by Sukuna.
You didn’t know curses could kiss.
You never thought a curse would be your first kiss.
But you eagerly kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He manhandled you to lay back down your back as two hands lifted your legs. You almost forgot all about his cocks inside of you.
His hips moved back before slamming forward, causing your body to jostle from the force. You screamed out, nails beginning to claw at his back as he took you.
The sounds of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain. Sukuna’s cocks stretched you full, reaching so deep inside you worried he’d spilt you open. You glanced down, seeing the soft tell sign of something bulging against your stomach.
From the inside…
Was that his cock?
Curses were insane.
It didn’t take long for you to reach your orgasm, your cunt clamping tightly around his cocks. But he didn’t let up, using you like a sex toy. Though it didn’t bother you this time—you liked it.
Sukuna’s hips slammed into you as the warm sperm began to coat your inner walls. That was fast.
You glanced up at Sukuna to see him looking away, as if he was also shocked he came that fast. A cocky grin appeared on your lips as you giggled, pressing kisses on Sukuna’s cheek.
“Wasi…thatgood?” You asked, looking up at him with eyes that resembled a puppy. Sukuna didn’t answer, simply pulling away from you despite your whines.
“I’m hungry. Go tell Uraume to cook me a meal.” Sukuna bluntly said, standing up as he slipped back into his robes. You simply wrapped an arm around your chest and clamped your legs closed for decency.
You reached over to grab your Wakizashi when it was quickly taken from you. Your eyes nervously turned over to Sukuna, watching as he lazily flipped the weapon before hiding it in his robe.
“Uhm….my…”
He smirked, “did you not say that it belongs to me now?”
You frowned. Well now you regretted that.
“You’ll earn it once you learn your place. Now go.” His eyes trailed down to the new scar on your throat. You could never tell what Sukuna was feeling but you could’ve sworn he seemed… upset at the sight. But his face quickly became neutral as he walked back to his shrine, sitting down and getting comfortable.
Your fingers gently traced the scaring on your throat. You’ve never seen the technique Sukuna used. It wasn’t something anyone taught you. But it must’ve been a strong one.
And he used it to save you.
Was that….
Love?
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
You haven’t gotten your Wakizashi back.
Sukuna would occasionally taunt you with it, threatening to snap it in half. But he never did. He seemed to enjoy your panicked responses.
He kept it close though. It was always tucked inside his robe. You wondered if he ever used it when he went on his sorcerer killing sprees. Not that he’d ever need to. He could kill towns in minutes.
But it felt nice to have him hold it.
Your speech was still terrible. Uraume was the only person who could understand you, especially when you spoke longer sentences.
“Andi…sawthe…bunnyrush…awaytothe…burrow..! Butigrabbed…thecarrots…itstole!”
“You should’ve killed the bunny.” Uraume responded, handing you a bowl of miso soup. They gave Sukuna a plate that looked to be human meat. You had gotten used to ignoring the smell.
Sukuna stared at you from across the table. “The bunny ran where?”
“Theburrow.”
“Uraume, I thought you were teaching him to speak clearly,” Sukuna said. Uraume shrugged as they sat down beside you.
“Teaching takes time. (Name) is twenty two, it’s harder to change habits by this age.”
It practically became a habit for you to constantly repeat yourself when speaking to Sukuna. Other times he’d tell you to stop speaking. He was still rude and a bit cruel.
But he certainly changed. Judging by the fact he’d occasionally kiss you. Though it wasn’t soft and romantic kisses. Most kisses would leave you breathless with bruised lips.
He still took you whenever he pleased. Having you ride him in front of people. That was still embarrassing. But you learned to live with it.
You were sitting outside, the moon shining down at you as you slowly weaved a bracelet with flower stems. There were three others scattered beside you, dawned with small chrysanthemums decorating them.
The thin robe you wore hardly covered you properly causing you to shiver at a particular rush of cool breeze. You grinned, holding the finished bracelet in triumph. They were larger than your wrists, having been made as large as possible.
As you grabbed the other three, two hands grasped your breasts, harshly squeezing them. You gasped, almost dropping the bracelets as you looked back to see Sukuna. He used his other two hands to lift you up, just as his domain opened around you both.
He sat at his shrine, settling you onto his lap. His hands pulled your robe off as you clutched the bracelets tightly, making sure to not accidentally drop them.
One of his hands trailed between your legs, easily teasing your pussy. You shivered, resting your head on his chest as he slowly teased you open. His large fingers slipped inside your cunt, stretching you out.
“Sukuna…” You mewled. “Gotyoupresent…”
You felt the loud reverberation of his grunt through his chest. It was somehow comforting that he had such human bodily autonomy. Your hands slowly opened, holding them up for him to see. Four brackets with red and white chrysanthemums in the center of the flower stems.
Sukuna grabbed one of them, examining it as his finger continued to stretch you open. He chuckled slightly, placing it back into your palms.
“I don’t need gifts from you.” He said, earning a frown from you. Your lips parted as you tried to argue back only for him to lean down and nip at your lips, kissing you with as much softness as he could possibly muster.
“I already own you.”
Your breathing hitched, staring up at him in shock. You eagerly kissed him back—moaning as he began to feverishly finger you open.
“Takeme…please.” You whispered, placing the brackets onto the ground as you moved to properly straddle him. Your hand pulled his robe open, allowing his cock to freely press against your thigh.
You shyly grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Useme…Sukuna Ryomen.”
Sukuna smirked, two of his hands instantly gripping your hips. “You don’t get to complain later.” He said before slamming you down onto his cock. You screamed out, the painful stretch bringing you a pleasure that you had learned to love.
He bounced you up and down on his cock with reckless abandon. Your sweet, high pitched cries being music to his ears. The sight of you was intoxicating. Your breasts bouncing in tandem with his thrusts—your cunt clenching around his cocks like a vice.
And to think… he was going to kill you that day.
He would’ve missed out on such great pussy.
Whatever he felt for you, he wasn’t sure. But what he did know was that he loved fucking you.
His hand reached down, kneading your ass. He leaned over and began to suckle on one of your nipples, earning a whine from you. You would always end up cumming more than twice, the least.
His name left your lips like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulder as you wailed out.
You reached your first orgasm in minutes. He could always tell whenever you did. Your nose would scrunch up, lips curling into a frown, as your body began to stiffen. Your cunt would always tighten as well, practically begging him to fuck his cum into you.
The effect you had on him was different. He could last longer with random woman he found but with you… He always found himself releasing faster.
He bit down on your nipple, causing you to shriek at the pain. Despite the cries and whimpers you gave whenever he would intentionally hurt you. Twist a nipple too hard. Spank your ass a bit too red. You would always come back for more.
Fuck… just what have you done to him?
He pulled away from your breasts and pulled you closer, claiming your lips with anger. You helplessly kissed back—unable to really take any sort of control in the kiss.
You pulled away from the kiss to breathe, hiccuping as you nuzzled your face into his neck. He continued to bounce you on his cocks, getting you closer to your second orgasm.
It was unreal. To be so connected to a curse. The King of Curses no less.
You felt the quick swelling of his cocks, indicating he was about to cum. Your cunt tightened as much as it could, earning an animalistic grunt. He began to use you with no regard whatsoever to the bruising his grip left on your body.
He slammed into you just as his cocks began to cum deep inside you. You pulled him close to give him a kiss, reaching your own orgasm.
You didn’t know if what you felt for Sukuna was love. But you certainly didn’t want to live without him.
It’s a shame this would be the last day you saw him.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
It was interesting to see Japan grow so much.
You didn't know that you would’ve been alive for so long. To not age at all. It was a blessing and a curse. You certainly stopped getting to know people, tired of seeing them grow old in age or even die by unfortunate events.
You would occasionally see how the sorcerers were doing. But you never got close—knowing you were technically a betrayer. Uraume was still with you though they would occasionally disappear to meet a man named Kenjaku.
Other curses still disgusted you so you never made any effort to speak to them like Uraume did. They kept speaking as if they could bring back Sukuna but you didn’t really believe it.
No, it was more so you didn’t think it would be a great idea. You’d lived longer than you’d been with Sukuna at this point. And while you still love him, you knew deep down humans were doomed if he were to come back.
The soft breeze gently flew past as you sat in the woods. Moonlight shining down on you as you moved to lay down.
Something felt off, but you had pushed the feeling away. Being able to live for so long should’ve been a blessing though you would occasionally wish to die.
But you never got your Wakizashi back. You assumed Sukuna died with it.
You didn’t know if that made you feel better or not.
People were nice. Many calling you a man. It was like a dream come true.
It was like two sides fought inside of you.
The need to protect human lives.
The want to kiss and hug Sukuna.
Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with someone normal?
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“You shouldn’t come to Shibuya tonight.”
The soft hums of the television almost entirely drowned out Uraume’s voice. You looked over at them, watching as they grabbed something from the closet. Shibuya?
“I haven’t been to Shibuya in a while.” You said, glancing back at the tv. Your style of speech was more coherent after centuries of practice. Though you would sometimes revert back when emotional.
“Why? Is something going to happen in Shibuya?”
Uraume simply hummed. “Could your body handle Sukuna today?”
You got up from the couch and walked over to Uraume. “Hm? Handle him?” Your hands rested against the countertop of the kitchen as you thought for a moment. “No. I haven’t had sex in centuries. I’m a virgin again.”
You giggled at your own joke while Uraume rolled their eyes.
They turned over to you, their eyes trailing over your body. “Your chest is bigger.”
You glanced down at your chest before glaring at them. “I just gained weight.”
“That’s a good thing.” They patted you on the back. “Bigger is better. I’ll be back.”
You mutely waved as Uraume left, humming to yourself. Bigger is better? You were pretty sure you had seen porn ads with that as a slogan. But there was a weird feeling your tummy. Why did Uraume suddenly ask you about Sukuna?
It been forever. Did they….
No. You pushed the thought away. You’d become a stuttering mess if Sukuna appeared in front of you.
But you were sure you’d kill him.
Just for leaving you.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“You’re okay keeping your face like that?”
“For now. If I’m going to be fighting amongst sorcerers, it’s better to maintain this kind of appearance.”
…..
“Where is he?”
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
Uraume hasn’t been back for a while now. You didn’t get too worried, they had a habit of doing so. It mainly worried you that things seemed off. A massacre happened in Shibuya.
It felt too similar to his work.
You shrugged it off, knowing just how difficult to was to reincarnate Sukuna.
But what if…
You groaned in frustration. You needed to go visit the forest. Your favorite forest was all over the place. You would always change it whenever you felt tired of another. This forest was beautiful with a large crystal blue lake.
Small baby ducks floated about while its mother watched. You sat down right next to the lake, putting your feet in it for some cool water against your skin.
The pale moonlight shunned down on you, always being a comforting blanket. It would always calm you down. Your legs slowly treaded through the water, sending small waves to the ducks.
A giggle escaped your lips as you watched the baby ducks scatter at the sudden movement.
You leaned over and stared at your reflection, gently poking it with your index finger. Soft ripples carried across the lake.
Your mind began to blank as you yawned. The ease of distractions began to push away any worry you had before. Until you felt… something was off.
The forest was silent. No more soft rustle of the wind. Crickets. Birds. Even the ducks on the water were long gone. Something was wrong.
You slipped out of the water, glancing around. You slowly stood up and tried to ignore your own wishes for your Wakizashi. You’d get through without it.
But nothing happened. It was still—nothing came out and attacked you. You shook your head, scratching at your scalp as you turned back to face the lake.
“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”
Those words.
That voice.
The familiar black water pooled your bare feet. The same shrine covered in human skulls. The memories of cleaning it. Sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he taunted helpless sorcerers.
Spider lilies began to bloom around you, forming a circle. The moon was still shining down on you. You didn’t want to turn around. In fear of just how you’d react to seeing him.
Would he look the same? Did he still like you?
Did he ever like you?
You felt young again. The young and naive (Name) rushing back in. Who couldn’t speak properly. Who couldn’t fight to save his life.
Two hands suddenly appeared from behind you and spun you around.
He was still taller than you. His markings still all over his body. But his hair was black this time. He didn’t have two arms either. You almost didn’t believe it was him until a smirk spread on his lips.
Yeah… that’s your Sukuna.
Your body felt stiff as you slowly stepped forward before leaping into his arms. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you began to wail. Your hands gripped at his body—making sure this wasn’t a dream.
He was real. He was real.
“You’ve missed me, huh?” He teased, his hand trailing downwards to grip your hips. His thumbs sinked into your skin as if he was now checking if you were real too.
“Mhm….missedsukuna…solonely…” You whined, cursing when you noticed you couldn’t speak properly anymore. Now that was just embarrassing.
You continued hugging him, leaning in as close as humanly possible. Your hands gripping at his shoulders while you buried your face in his neck.
You really did betray your clan, cuddling with the murderer.
A sudden squeeze at your breasts caught your attention. You pulled away a bit to see Sukuna squeezing both of your breasts together. He smirked, his thumbs rubbing against your nipples through the shirt.
“They’re bigger.”
You glared at him. “Stopit. Youcanttouch…meuntil…iget…Wakizashi!” Sukuna rolled his eyes but complied, pulling away as he reached into his robes. Slowly, he pulled out your Wakizashi. Its gold sheath somehow still shining proudly.
Your hands practically snatched it away from him as you held it in the air, letting the moonlight shine down on it.
As beautiful as you remembered.
It looked recently cleaned. You glanced back at Sukuna, biting your lip. He kept it safe. He kept your Wakizashi safe.
Which meant…
He kept your heart safe.
“Do I get a reward for keeping that pathetic excuse of a weapon safe?” Sukuna asked, crossing his arms across his chest. Despite his words, you knew he took its protection seriously.
You mutely nodded. “Didn’t….sleepwith…anyone. Not since…youwere…gone.” You slowly placed the weapon on the floor as you stepped over to Sukuna.
“Kept myself just for you.” You managed to say before looking down in embarrassment. “Istill…belong…to…sukunaryomen.”
A grip on your chin caused you to flinch as he forced you to look up at him. Sukuna stared down at you, his eyes roaming your face. The same whip scaring on your face almost gone in its entirety. The scar on your neck completely faded.
“I see I have to remind you of the rules.” He said, forcefully tutting your head around as he continued to look at you. “Let’s sey that cunt of yours can handle me.”
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
You missed this. His fingers thrusting into your pussy as he stretched you. Roughly kneading your breast with his free hand. It was weird being only touched by two hands—you couldn’t wait until he got his normal body.
Your back arched, soft mewls leaving your lips. You were fully nude, sat atop of Sukuna’s lap as he sat on his throne. Your cunt was tight. You really haven’t touched yourself ever since Sukuna left.
“Were you waiting for me?” Sukuna suddenly asked, his thumb teasing your clit as you whimpered. “Waiting to be used as my whore again?”
“Nghhh…”
“I was waiting to fuck this pussy again.” He slowly spread your pussy open. “Squeezing your tits. All I had was that fucking Wakizashi of yours.” He muttered bitterly, slamming his fingers deep into your cunt. You cried out, your hips moving upward as you tried to catch your breath.
He didn’t care that it had been centuries since you had sex. He seemed to enjoy that you were so loyal to him that you practiced celibacy.
“You’re lucky I need to feel your pussy around my cock—you deserve a punishment for not fulfilling your duties.” He pulled open his robe, his cock springing out. Your shuddered, feeling it rub against your pussy.
“What…duties…?” You whispered.
Sukuna harshly squeezed your breast, pulling at the nipple. You cried out in pain—your body squirming in his grip as his cock began teasing your pussy.
“You must’ve forgotten your place.” He whispered into your ear. “No matter, I’ll remind you of it.”
His cock slammed into your pussy, ignoring your scream of pain. He was harsh and unforgiving. Your body spasmed as it tried to get used to the harsh thrusting. It’d been so long, you already felt yourself feel close to an orgasm.
Sukuna’s hands gripped your thighs, pulling them upward as he thrusted into your tight cunt. The sound of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain.
Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the slight smile on your lips. You missed being used like a toy for his pleasure. A groan left you as your pussy clenched around his cock. Even as you orgasmed, Sukuna didn’t let you, using you to reach his own.
You felt his cock suddenly pulsate in you as warm cum filled your insides. A shuddered moan left your lips. You almost forgot just how warm sperm could be.
But you began to feel yourself being moved up and down. His hands moved to grip your waist, easily bouncing you on his cock. The overstimulation instantly caused you discomfort but your whines fell on deaf ears.
“I’ve been without your cunt for centuries.” He said, grunting as you clenched around his cock. Your hands gripped at his thighs. You couldn’t hold back your moans, they were on the verge of screams. It was so much for what was essentially your first time.
Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, smashing his lips into yours. You eagerly kissed back. The kiss reminded you of all the past ones. The bites on your lips. The feeling as if he was stealing your breath away.
As you pulled away, he gave you a lustful smirk.
“I intend to make up for lost time.”
You weren’t going to be able to walk for years.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
wowowo….my first fic at 10k words…. Jesus! I hope I did Sukuna justice <3
tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @tehyunnie @flurrina @mello-life69 @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @love-kha1 @star-3214 @kiiyoooo @ac3ifix
#bottom male reader#x male reader#sub male reader#uke male reader#mlm ns/fw#sukuna x male reader#sukuna#sukuna x reader#jjk sukuna#jjk x male reader#ftm mlm#mlm nsft
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the way we police bodies in our modern era is just insane to me. like for example i'm thinking about muscles. literally everyone has them. why are muscular bodies "masculine"? every single person on this earth has muscles and can have them be in any size and tone. like, have you ever met or seen a woman who's a carpenter? a construction worker? a farmer? a warehouse or factory worker? an athlete? a firefighter? an emt? a powerlifter? a body builder?
women can be absolutely stacked. women can be fucking ripped. some women are born with absolutely jacked muscle structure without any working out involved. women get muscular and people act like every single woman is some waifish leaf blowing in the wind- wake up, open your eyes, what are you even saying? look at the world around you, where are you living?
i feel insane living in a world where we either think women don't have muscles at all, or they have muscles but they can't ever get big and are inherently pathetically weak. we have modern science and photographs and videos at our fingertips and yet here we are really out here still believing that men strong women weak. it hurts my brain.
#our writing#queer feminism#trans feminism#inclusive feminism#body policing#bioessentialism#intersectional feminism
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Probably the oddest comment/joke/criticism I’ve seen of Jack Seward is that he’s an incel. Which is kind of annoying because for all his (many) faults, his behavior is the polar opposite of a stereotypical incel’s behavior.
When Lucy rejects him, he asks if it’s because she’s in love with someone else, or if she’s just not interested, and he only asks so that he knows whether he might still have a chance or whether he should abandon his hopes. He respects her decision and offers friendship before promptly leaving. There’s never a moment where he behaves like he’s entitled to her time, attention, and affection. He doesn’t insult her or imply she’s wrong or an idiot for her choice, he does the very thing we constantly say men ought to do when rejected—he leaves her alone.
He doesn’t even express anger and entitlement towards her in private, nor does he denigrate her choice of man (which would be particularly shitty in this case since the three of them are friends). He’s just extra depressed about it, and maybe he’s more depressed than a lot of people would be, but I don’t think it’s all that unusual to feel crushed when you’ve been rejected by someone you really like. I think it’s very normal, actually (although obviously, in the modern era, at a certain point you’d probably want to see a therapist about it if it’s that persistent).
I guess I feel weird about it because it feels like there’s this underlying belief that if a guy shows any kind of romantic disappointment at all, no matter how well-handled, it makes him no different from men who harass and feel entitled to women and won’t take no for an answer. That’s not a good attitude to have! People are allowed to be sad and disappointed as long as they’re not making it the other person’s problem!
There’s a lot of well-deserved criticisms we can make of Jack Seward, but this one feels kind of like people who call Jonathan useless and weak because he doesn’t, like, try to fight Dracula or some other stereotypically manly thing.
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Hello! Hru? I love ur blog soo muchh♡ may I request human! Reader (from Kagome's world) who's really strong? Like the reader surprised the Inuyasha men (inuyasha, naraku and sesshomaru:> if you're not comfortable with these you can always change!) When a demon tried to attack her & the men tried to save reader but stop when they see her beating the demon up with bare hands or with a weapon she found brutally💀😭 And they just stood there dumbfounded like how tf🧍♂️? And when they ask how is she so strong, reader just shrugs and goes like "martial arts?"
Thank you and feel free to use any pronounces! I just wanna read sumn for once that doesn't have weak reader pls I'm so tired 💀💀
Hey anon! Sorry this is so late. I do agree with you on the last part. I'm tired of the weak reader all the time too. People gotta switch it up you know?
Strong ass Human!Reader in the Feudal Era with Inuyasha, Sesshomaru, and Naraku:
Inuyasha:
Reveling in the heroism of saving a nearby village, the group started their journey elsewhere. Trekking through the forest, your rag-tag group ran into a boisterous pig yokai. Who, unfortunately, became smitten with your looks.
"I will have you as my bride. And we can make all the hanyou I want!"
Ew. The initial response was to ignore the pig. There've been many demons who would bother the group. And, after the fight you all came from, you just wanted to make camp. Inuyasha grumbled a quick, "Piss off," as the group passes by.
But, it seemed that the Pig was serious about his stupid claim. He bares his teeth and shoots forward at you, grabbing your legs. World tipping over, your head thumps against a patch of lush grass. How lucky. However, you felt a strong pull on your leg, dragging your body away from your friends.
Hell fuck no! In the midst of the dragging, your bag was in the perfect position to grab easily. With how quickly things happened, Inuyasha jumpstarts to save you. You grab the bulky hammer in your bag, hiding it from view.
The pig yokai guffaws and throws you over his shoulder. "When I see someone worthy of being a bride, it's my right to claim-OOUGH"
One hit to the dome scratched some skin off and left his brain to rattle. "WHAT THE-." The next swing made contact with his cheek, sending sanguine liquid onto the ground. The pig stood there shocked, with blood leaking from his mouth.
He gets angry and charges at you, again. This time, he wouldn't get you. Grounding yourself, you kick him back, which sends him flying back a few feet. Taking charge, you jump and start to gruesomely work on his head with the hammer.
"What da HELL!!! Y/N!!!" Inuyasha yells. He's totally flabbergasted. His eyes and mouth are so wide, it's comical. There's the desire to step in and protect you, but it's so impressed how strong and ferocious those swings were. Inuyasha didn't want to interrupt. It was kind of hot.
Although, Inuyasha is a little peeved that you didn't let him know how strong you were. The way you sent him back with that kick was unexpected. He starts cheering you on.
"Way to go Y/N!" He's standing there smiling with his hands on his hips. Once the beast was knocked out (or dead, who cares). You turn back to head to the group.
"Y/n that was so cool! When the hell did you get so strong?"
"Uhhhh....fighting with my cousins growing up?" You shrugged. "I just want to go lay down, can we hurry up and make camp somewhere?"
Now, he's wondering what type of humans your cousins are.
2. Sesshomaru
This is one of the worst fears you had. Spiders. In your time, you could easily avoid an encounter with one of these wretched creatures. Modern houses and bug repellents helped tremendously. Not going out into nature and definitely NOT living in Australia did too. Since you've traveled back to the feudal era and were forced to interact with nature, your luck has been tested. And it just ran out today.
A fucking spider demon appeared. It was grotesque, smelly, and an abomination. And it was big too. It wanted to attempt to best Lord Sesshomaru in battle. Sesshomaru, of course, refuses. So, the dumb thing tries to shoot webs at you. Thankfully you dodged.
The hate for spiders took over your body. The fear you had compounded on top of that, making you scarier than the demon. It tries to stick its hairy and pointy leg through you, but you were quicker. With desperate and angered bare hands, you tore off its leg.
The spider yokai shouts in pain. Taking advantage of it's pause, you quickly tear off each limb. One by one.
Sesshomaru, in all his glory, stands there and says nothing. Does nothing. It really doesn't look like he's reacting but he is. The Demon Lord is extremely surprised that he's tense. His eyes are wide. Only thing that's slack is his hands.
The dagger in your side pouch begs to be utilized. It's appeased by you yanking it out and stabbing the yokai in one of it's many eyes. The screams, the power, and the needed imagery of you decimating this spider was iconic.
To Sesshomaru, it was obvious you were untrained. The ferocity of your actions cover it well. He's impressed and takes mental note to start training you. Maybe, have you be a little more graceful with your movements.
"This one had no indication of the strength you hold." Sesshomaru states.
".......I just really fucking hate spiders." you sardonically reply.
"...Hn. Noted. This one concurs with your sentiment."
Silently, he is pleased with this discovery. A small smile graces his face after you turn away
3. Naraku
Narakus' lower demons were soooo annoying. Their existence was one that irritated you. Irritating when they sucked dick to Naraku and when they tried to be condescending towards you. Just because you were human. The audacity sent you over the edge.
The edge it sent you over was one close by. One of those things became unruly in your presence. Acting as it was better than you, the ugliness of it all. The decision to put it back in its place was swift and malicious. An example to others who felt the same.
Precise, your hand shoots out to grab the lowly yokai. Chucking it, the demon bashes against a nearby rock. It's body twitches on the ground, confused on what just occurred. Slowly, you walk over. With no urgency or care. It felt like you were Michael Myers in that moment. Once you made it over, you stare before stomping it. One more. And again. Again. Again. AGAIN. AGAIN. Until there was a crater in the dirt it crumpled in.
Naraku, some distance away, observed the scene with shocked eyes, his mouth slightly open. "This human...!"
He is pissed that you hid this information from him. And how did he miss this? He frequently spied on you, sent his wasps when he couldn't make a puppet! But now that he knows....you can be of use for him. You're a bit too....alluring to be considered a lackey, but he needed to have control over you somehow. A sly grin graces his face upon observing the aftermath. The squished gruel of guts and blood staining the ground and your shoes.
He approaches, with a questioning stare. "Y/n...pray tell, how did you aquire this power?"
"Oh, my parents had me do martial arts since I was a kid. Plus, I was angry."
All Naraku can think is how nice it was of your parents to prepare you for him and his deeds.
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Fallen God! Gojo Satoru X Fem! Reader part: one
| Part two
Thinking about fallen god Gojo, who had been living at a small village for a hundred years. People, who once worshiped him, now didn't even go near to his little hut. He lived by himself. When he went out, everyone used to go back inside their respective huts. The sheer loneliness made him distant and arrogant. His grumpy face scared people ever more. It was continuing untill oneday he met you. Your family had to change village because of some allegations about thievery. Your family was poor and helpless. To at least save your life, your parents had to change villages and thus you ended up reaching to the very village Gojo lived.
You didn't know much about the village stuff. You were twenty and full of energy. You had to explore and then you found gojo. His gorgeous blue eyes took a scrutiny of you from head to toe before approaching you with a grumpy expression. Unlike the locals, you didn't flinch a bit and stood stright infront of him and greeted him with a smile. This surprised Gojo, a lot.
From once or twice, it turned into daily meet ups between you two. Your bubbly personality brought peace and glory in his damp life. He smiled and talked with you. Everything was going well. You found yourself drowning in those blue eyes and he saw his soul intertwining with yours. It didn't took very long untill the friendship turned into something more. From friendly gestures to little blushes, you turned twenty five. Your parents wanted you to get married but knowing your past allegations, local men never accepted you. It wasn't like you want to be accepted either. You had already offered your soul to your fallen god.
It could have gone this way but life is a curse. Some unknown illness started to spread across the world, infecting almost everyone. Your village wasn't an exception. Your parents died. Soon the curse of this illness fell upon your life, blowing out all the candles you lit along with Gojo, all these years. The illness being dangerously contagious, no was was there to held the funeral for the dead ones. Bodies were thrown here and there, some, who were living alone, stayed inside, waiting to be rotten.
When Gojo found your body at a street side, laying lifelessly, his existence shattered infront of his eyes. He ran to you, picked you up. He was so powerless to rescue you. He couldn't. His blessing was often said to be turned into curses. Even for you, it turned into a curse, snatching you away from him, forever or so he thought.
Then the civilization progressed, people strated to use better technologies and started to live modern lives. Gojo had to change himself according to the era. He moved to a country side, lived in a cheap apartment, wore modern cloths, worked as a janitor for small offices, enough to handle his own little expenses. Everything changed but you stayed still in his heart. Never for once, he could forget you.
The god of fate was probably feeling a bit amusing, so he made Gojo meet a girl, who looked exactly like the girl he once adored and loved. When his eyes fell on the girl, buying some candies with a smile, he couldn't even trust his reliable eyes. You? It was you? It was really you?
He was quick to run to your direction. "Y/n...?" was all he could mutter which made you turn as you heard your name. "Yes?" you gestured him with a smile which was very known to him. It was enough to make his knees went weak. He kneeled infront of you. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he hold your hands with his. Your hands were as warm as he could remember. Your hands always warmed up his cold hands. "It is really you..." he mumbled.
Confusion was consuming you. You couldn't recognise the mysteriously gorgeous man infront of you. He hugged you, cried on your shoulder, your heart ached for some unknown reason. You let him untill he tried to kiss you. You felt uncomfortable and slapped him. Then pushed him away.
"Go away creep!" You started to walk away in annoyance. He would have followed you if the people of the street didn't stop him, suspecting him as a creep, trying to harrass girl. Did you come back for him?
No. You came back to live a better life. You were reincarnated. By fate, you had the same name. Gojo could clearly remember how the previous conclusion was. He couldn't let the history repeat itself. He would walk away. His blessing, rather his curse won't affect you for the second time. He missed your voice, he missed your sweet smile. But for his happiness, he couldn't push you further to your misfortune.
He started as you walked away with a disgusted face. Your hairs swayed with the air. His eyes softened, he was adoring you. He couldn't look away untill your silhouette blended with the further scenary.
"I love you...my love"
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ♡
(By the way, requests are open, you can send me requests, just check the pinned post on my profile to know which fandoms I will write for <3)
#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojo x yn#gojou satoru x reader#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk satoru#jjk hcs#jjk imagine#jjk scenarios#gojo scenario#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#drabble#short story#jjk fanfic#gojo fanfic#angst#fallen god gojo
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Hazbin Hotel redesign ideas p. 2
I am a bit of fashion, especially men's, history nerd, and I'm also a bit of radio nerd, so here I go, biblically accurate Alastor.
ALASTOR:
Alastor was a radio host (a radio star?) who lived and died in Louisiana. He was shot during a hunting accident, in the head, somewhere in the 1933, during radio's golden era. He cares greatly about his image and always smiles to show no weaknesses. He hates modern technology and doesn't allow his face to be captured by video recording or non black and white camera. His is mixed-race Creole.
Nothing about Alastor design make sense and it pisses me off. Not only it doesn't fit the time, it also doesn't fit his character! Besides, he is too red. He disappears into the background, especially walls of the Hotel.
Alastor cares about his image greatly, yet his clothes are torn. He is supposed to be like Hannibal, yet he looks like an edgelord wannabe. It's awful. I learned nothing about him from his design, other than "he's and old-time radio deer guy", and that's really bad.
Fashion in 30s was inspired by Hollywood, and sport and movies celebrities.
Back and white fashion in this period wasn't that different, at least for men, as long as you weren't poor, but here are some photos of specifically black fashion in 30s. In general I recommend that website if you want to look more into the fashion of this period.
His hair is completely wrong. And it's also really ugly lol. For richer black men a shiny straightening hairstyle was the go to since 1920s. One such style was "the conk" where one would chemically straighten their hair. It left hair shiny, but the process was painful and expensive. It literally could burn your scalp.
Another popular style was the brush wave. It's creating narrow waves rolling on top of head with the sides cut short and smooth. This hairstyle is still present to this day, but nowadays it's done on the whole head.
Other than that, men just wore their hair naturally, but short.
There is no focus on trousers or vest in Alastor's outfit. (Which is wild considering zipper fly was introduced in the early 30s, but was got popular by the mid ’30s). This was time of experimenting a bit with vests. If you wanted to look fancy and/or formal, you would wear a vest. Pants were wide legged, had a high waist and a single pressed line down the center of the leg. Some trouser waistbands were unique in the 1930s, for example a Hollywood waistband trouser. It had an extra wide band with a double row of buttons. They fit very high, overlapping the ribs. they often had netal ring tabs on the sides to tighten the pant to the correct fit without the need for belts or suspenders.
Also, monocle? Really? …Really? Here you go, read this if you're curious. Lots of pictures of glasses included. Glasses stayed essentially the same in 30s as they were in 20s. They were "round with a center bridge in the early years and an upper bridge in the later years. Frames could be tortoiseshell, black plastic, or thin metal."
Moving on from fashion, because I could never shut up, microphones!
The most probabale one that everyone who is redesigning Al is drawing is a good old classic Carbon mic. It looks like a ring with a metal star and the microphone inside. It can be hand held or a staff.
But, if you wanna draw something different!
Other than Carbon mic there is also a Ribbon microphone (first row) and Moving Coil mic (second row). Unfortunately, they killed Alastor in the best part of the radio golden age, so the mics are still a bit ugly, not gonna lie.
How would I design him:
First things firsts, either he is mixed or he is white, because right now it just feels like a cheep excuse to have an "evil voodoo" character without getting too much backlash. Let's be honest, nobody thought he was a POC and that white face doesn't help. Again, just like I mentioned with Vel, when you're drawing a character with human like skin tone you have to be careful and think how it ties to their race.
Second - fashion. His outfit and hairstyle is a disaster. He has always tried to 'dress to impress', so obviously I would give him well maintained clothing and that 'high quality', formal style. I would give him the dark brown Hollywood trouser with buttons and dark crimson shirt, like dried blood almost. Under a coat or jacket he would have a brow vest, both the same colour as the pants. Highlights would be golden and green or purple. I for one would love to see him start out with a jacket/coat which he stops wearing inside the hotel after he bonds with the people inside it more, but he would still wear it outside and in the finale would put it on again, after his breakdown in the tower. This would show he began to trust the hotel residents a bit before he 'realises his mistake' after the battle. I would give him short haircut, because not even white people wore hair like that. (What in the Karen-core is it supposed to be?). Say goodbye to that monocle. Why is it even there there? Because he is old-timely? What is he, a children's cartoon villain? His design doesn't need more soulless clutter. Give me something that tells me about him as a character. I've seen people give him old radio as teeth or chest and I love it! When it's not too detailed, it's a great idea to make Alastor less like a living human but also less of… just a deer. He just looks like a deer demon. I would keep his shoes, hands and antlers, and give him ears that would fit the hairstyle I would go with.
[Edit: I forgot to mention, I would give him a time accurate hat or a free wavy lock of hair to cover the mark on his forehead where he was shot]
Thirdly, the microphone! My love. I remember the microphone used to be able to talk, but now it doesn't, unless I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure. Now it's just a weird look staff microphone with an eye and that's about it. But imagine something like a moving coil with the metal sign on top of it were the letters on it change. It could be a way it's communicating, in a simple way. This was it could still have a unique shape. That would have been fun to see. I can certainly imagine it being something of an 'unfiltered voice' of Alastor, where it would change it's writing into "Shut up", "Die" or something like that and he would hit it in a reprimanding way to reverse it to "Smile!". I'm just saying, that's a cool idea.
Well, this took forever to make, I actually forgot about this, so it just sat in my drafts. Anyway, if you want to see brilliant use of costumes and detailed, accurate depiction of fashion (especially black and queer) through history in New Orleans I recommend "Interview With The Vampire" (2022). It's also a great show.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel redesign#hazbin hotel fanart#redesign#hazbin hotel criticism#hh#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel critique#men's fashion#men's style#menswear#mensfashion#fashion#fashion history
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I've decided not to write any more long posts about why some people don't like Disney's Belle. I've probably been dwelling too much in other people's negative thoughts that I disagree with. But here are the rest of the critiques of Belle's character that I've read, and my short, succinct thoughts on each one.
I still think it's very interesting that some critics think Belle is too sweet and gentle, too feminine, and not "strong" or "modern" enough, while others think she's too defiant, too "modern," and not sweet or gentle enough.
Her desires at the beginning are ill-defined: she wants "adventure" and "more," but has no specific goal. This is true, but personally, I don't mind it. Plenty of us don't know exactly what we want from life, but do know that we want more excitement and wonderment.
She does nothing but read and complain in the village; she makes no effort to achieve her dreams of adventure, and she never does any realistic peasant chores, which makes her come across even more as a spoiled rich girl. I think it's implicit that Belle and Maurice are too poor to leave the village – that's why Maurice sets out to gain fame and fortune with his invention. And I think Belle's never doing housework onscreen was part of Linda Woolverton's feminist agenda. Maybe it's not realistic, and maybe it's overly "second wave feminist," but I do think it was fair of Woolverton to want to break away from the Walt-era Princess model and not show Belle cooking or cleaning.
Her dreams of adventure are side-swept in favor of a mere love story. I think there are two ways of addressing this issue. One is to argue that her dreams of adventure do come true, just in a way she never expected. The other, supported more by the song "A Change in Me" from the musical, is that she does lose her dreams, but for the better, as she realizes her life doesn't need to be like a romantic storybook to be happy.
Her romance with the Beast isn't nearly as fleshed-out or as realistic as fans claim it is. This is subjective. Some people think it's one of the best-written romance arcs in cinema.
She affects meek politeness and plays games with Gaston instead of plainly refusing his advances. First of all, if Belle didn't care about politeness, she would be a hypocrite to criticize Gaston and the Beast for their rudeness. Secondly, Gaston is intimidating. Third, this is only the beginning of her journey – with the Beast, she arguably learns to stand up to someone who mistreats her, which lets her decisively reject Gaston and call him a monster later on.
She seems to blindly love all books without questioning their content, which could be dangerous, especially when the French Revolution arrives. Belle has no trouble thinking for herself. If she can open her heart and mind to the Beast, and loathe Gaston while the rest of the town adores him, then I'm sure she can tell good books apart from bad and dangerous books. And the fashions in the movie are such a mish-mosh that I'm not sure if it takes place before the French Revolution or after... or if the French Revolution will even happen in this fairy tale world.
She sacrifices her own needs for men. Yes she does, but it's not framed in a gendered way, and both the Beast and Maurice do the same for her.
She emasculates the Beast. Well, I'll admit that the Beast's arc isn't very empowering for him – that's the whole point, that he learns to give up some of his personal power and love unselfishly. But is that necessarily a bad thing? I'll also admit that sometimes, I feel troubled that the Beast lets the mob attack the castle and does nothing to protect his servants. Still, we probably shouldn't judge a character whose mental health is clearly suffering at this point: immobilizing, suicidal despair doesn't only exist in fiction, so we should think twice before we call it "weakness" or "emasculation."
She needs male characters to rescue her – the Beast from the wolves, Chip from the cellar. I respect the complaint that the Disney Renaissance movies still rely too much on the "boy rescues girl" trope, but there's no shame in needing to be rescued. Especially because in the forest scene, Belle is just one human facing a whole pack of wolves, and in the cellar scene, her father is rescued too.
She never uses her skills, knowledge, or passions to solve problems – the only purpose they serve is to unite her with the Beast. I think this is just a genre problem. The whole story is geared toward uniting Belle and the Beast in love, and every story beat serves that end.
She almost leaves the Beast to die in the snow and stays angry about the West Wing incident even after he saves her life. The former is only a split second, while the latter is only in self-defense when the Beast unfairly blames her for his injury. Besides, consider the context of how the Beast has behaved until this point!
She's a hypocrite for giving the Beast a second chance yet dismissing Gaston as a monster. She doesn't give the Beast a chance until he risks his life to save hers. If Gaston had done anything like that, she would have given him a second chance too, but he doesn't. Gaston is also far more cold-blooded and narcissistic than the Beast ever is.
She's to blame for the Beat's near-death at the climax because she reveals his existence to Gaston and the other villagers. Of course she is. It's explicitly framed as a terrible mistake and she openly blames herself. But it's an impulsive act of desperation to save her father, and she tries to explain that the Beast is kind and gentle. Until it's too late, it clearly doesn't cross her mind that the villagers could form a mob to kill him!
She plays a nurturing, motherly role to both the Beast and her father. I agree that heroines shouldn't need to be nurturing. But it's not inherently anti-feminist to be that way!
She's sidelined in the final battle. Yes, this is true, but her presence is still essential to the scene, and not every heroine needs to be an action girl.
Her portrayal falls short of the original Beauty's greatest virtues: her kindness, selflessness, and compassion. Belle still has those qualities, they're just combined with more "modern" ones (adventurousness, defiance toward unjust authority figures, etc.). Besides, Disney had already made several excellent movies about heroines defined by kindness and gentleness. What's wrong with giving Belle a slightly different set of virtues?
She's too traditionally feminine and ladylike. I think most of us can agree that "femininity" ≠ "anti-feminist," and anyone who thinks that way is a little misguided.
Her creators glorify her at the expense of the other Disney Princesses. I agree that it was unfair and mean-spirited of Linda Woolverton to imply that the three Walt-era Princesses are "insipid," but I do respect her insistence on making Belle a different, more "modern" heroine. And I agree that Paige O'Hara was mistaken when she described Belle as "the first Princess not looking for a man" (neither Cinderella nor Ariel dream of romance until they actually meet their princes), but I don't hold that against Belle.
She's too blatantly written as a role model – she doesn't feel like a real person, but like a living instruction manual for how a "smart," "empowered" woman should behave. This is valid. But I personally do think she seems like a real person as well as a role model, and I think she's engaging enough that I don't mind the obvious "role model" qualities.
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'...Social media has played into this Irish invasion, with users fangirling over actors like Paul Mescal, Barry Keoghan, Andrew Scott, and Cillian Murphy. All of these men have been recognized for their work in critically acclaimed and/or popular films in 2023. Cillian Murphy is nominated for (and forecast to win) an Oscar for his role in Oppenheimer.
...this new male-driven phenomenon likely stems from the convergence of the two online trends: an overwhelming fan appetite for male celebrities in the “internet boyfriend” era, and a growing interest in Irish culture. The result is a super-online (and horny) generation of Hibernophiles.
...the modern romanticization of Irish men doesn’t seem to be pegged to one film or moment in time, and a cursory Google search pulls up a slew of articles declaring the purported pros of dating Irish men. These lists are not necessarily based on hard facts as much as cultural assumptions, and many of them, including one by Popsugar, emphasize the Irish’s supposed charm, good looks, chattiness, and love for their mothers...
Presumably, there’s a link between the idyllic postcard image many Americans have of Ireland — lush green pastures, poetry, music, and a friendly population — and the view of Irish men as ideal romantic partners. It has certainly helped that Americans and consumers worldwide have been inundated with images of handsome Irish men in popular culture, from former James Bond star Pierce Brosnan to One Direction member Niall Horan to scruffy sex symbol Colin Farrell. While interviewing Cillian Murphy on his podcast Armchair Expert in 2022, host Dax Sheppard raved about the “inordinate amount of handsome men” he encountered on a trip to Ireland...
The 1845 Irish famine meant a huge influx of immigrants to the US, and the men quickly gained a reputation as “feckless, uncultured, and prone to drunkenness and violence,” Burke explained. “That stereotype has been argued to have persisted to some degree right up to the era of John F. Kennedy.” Kennedy’s election, she says, was thought to signal the full assimilation of the Irish in America. (A shift that, in turn, brought us notable Irish Americans like Alec Baldwin, Sean Hannity, and Bill O’Reilly.)
This shift in perception represents the “flexible racial status of Irishness,” as Diane Negra, film studies professor at the University College Dublin, writes in the book The Irish in Us: Irishness, Performativity and Pop Culture. She expands that this is due to a complex history and ethnic identity that allows them to “oscillate between otherness and whiteness.” Likewise, Burke says white Irish people fit into a category of “non-vanilla vanilla” in the Western imagination.
For the American viewer, “Irish actors arguably evoke a kind of safe ‘exoticness,’” she said. “Being native speakers of English with a purportedly cute accent, they are just ‘foreign’ enough for mainstream taste.”
That newfound perception of Irish men as harmless and gentle feels connected to a wider trend that they’ve shown up in on the internet: the “babygirl.” The moniker has become a go-to term of endearment for grown men in Hollywood who are physically attractive and display pleasant traits. According to Mashable, it describes “when a man is being cute, comfortable in his masculinity, or weak in an evocative way.” This act of infantilization can be applied to a wide range of men, but it’s hard not to notice actors like Mescal, Keoghan, Murphy, and Farrell being popular recipients of this treatment online...
The Andrew Haigh film All of Us Strangers, starring Andrew Scott and Mescal, was on the precipice of Oscars glory, with Scott campaigning but failing to make it to the final stage for Best Actor. For months throughout awards season, though, Mescal and Scott were making the internet swoon in joint interviews and red-carpet appearances, demonstrating that their onscreen chemistry carried over into real life. The same attention was paid to Keoghan, who became more of a talking point throughout awards season for his role in the polarizing Emerald Fennell film Saltburn — not to mention that nude dance scene — than a realistic Oscars contender.
Last but not least, there’s Cillian Murphy, whose role in Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer could very well win him an Oscar on March 10, after a near-sweep at the year’s major awards ceremonies. The standom and thirst for him on social media is particularly striking, given that he’s had a lengthy, mostly unsung career that hadn’t yielded huge starmaking moments before Oppenheimer, despite playing multiple side characters in Nolan’s filmography. Prior to playing the “father of the atomic bomb” last year, his most notable role as a leading man was as gangster Thomas Shelby in the BBC2 show Peaky Blinders, which ran for almost a decade and earned a strong Tumblr fan base.
Professor and author Christopher Shannon adds that the public’s affinity for Murphy is particularly fascinating, given that American audiences haven’t necessarily fallen in love with him through Irish cinema like previous Irish actors.
“What strikes me about someone like Murphy is that he has achieved his fame mostly in non-Irish roles,” he said. “Murphy is celebrated as an actor who happens to be Irish rather than as a distinctly Irish actor.”
Nevertheless, Murphy’s Irish identity seems to be part of his draw, based on how his online fan base interacts with him. Despite being rather reserved, the Batman Begins star has generated an entire mill of memes, many of them stemming from routinely unenthused interactions and a general “who gives a fuck?” attitude. In particular, it seems as though the internet enjoys the ways he firmly declares his Irishness.
One of his most viral moments is a clip of him repeatedly stating that he’s Irish after an interviewer refers to him and his Inception co-star Tom Hardy as British. Another popular image of Murphy shows the actor seemingly giving Prince Harry a dissenting glare as the cast lines up to meet him at the Dunkirk premiere. This could well just be Murphy’s natural expression (he’s not exactly known for looking cheery), but the internet interpreted Murphy’s look as proof of his disdain for the British monarchy...
Murphy has said that it’s a “good time to be an Irish actor” in Hollywood. At the same time, when asked how he felt about being the first Irish-born actor to win Best Actor at the BAFTAs last week, he seemed slightly exhausted by a sense of tokenism. “It means a lot to me to be Irish,” he answered a journalist. “I don’t know what else to say. Should I sing a rebel song?”
Of course, this quip only made the Murphy Hive fall in love with him more.'
#Cillian Murphy#Barry Keoghan#Andrew Scott#Paul Mescal#Aftersun#All of Us Strangers#Oppenheimer#Saltburn#Oscars#BAFTAs#Pierce Brosnan#Niall Horan#Colin Farrell#Christopher Nolan#Tommy Shelby#Peaky Blinders
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No but the way Júlia and Tybalt (In Rómeó és Júlia especially but in every adaption actually) perfectly mirror each other in the way they are being stifled by the role they play due to their gender and how it fucks them up, as well as the way they completely reject their roles (specifically in Rómeó és Júlia)? We have Tybalt, who was forced to be as violent and protective of his family as possible despite the heavy implication that he was a sensitive and dreamy child, not to mention the way his views of sex and love were shaped by social conventions (and specifically his father).
I’m going by the Italian Renaissance societal mores here, even though resj presumably takes place in a quasi-dystopian or post-dystopian future/Alternate Universe. During the Italian Renaissance, male children spent very little time with a nurse because that was considered ‘feminine’, and were sent off to school at a very young age. Although family was still considered the most important thing, actual familial relationships were hard to cultivate presuming that child was away at school. Now, it could be that I’m looking way too much into this and no one even thought about Tybalt’s childhood regarding him going away to school or being taught by a tutor at home, so I could be way off, BUT my point is that the emotions regarding family were strictly based on the masculine ‘protector and provider’ aspect rather than tenderness and actually spending time with family.
You can even see this in modern western society! It is only within the past few decades that men started to spend more time with their children, and do traditionally ‘feminine’ things for their kids like changing diapers, feeding etc. The idea of a Father being a provider rather than a caregiver has even carried over to society today - men are still praised for running errands with their children and doing activities with them without the mother present. These men are just seen as being ‘babysitters’ ‘helping out mom’ when they should simply be seen as parents doing their job as parents. It’s unnecessary to go into the negative impact this has had on both men and women, but my point is that this ‘nuture vs provide and protect’ view is still prevalent today, and was 100x worse in the Itaian Renaissance Era (and presumably society in resj).
So Tybalt is burdened with the duty to protect his family, but we see he, unlike his father, actually wants to be close emotionally to his family. The best evidence for this is his relationships to women in his family. I’ve made another post about this, but basically Tybalt’s father has taught him that women are literally ‘objects’, and the goal is to sleep with as many women as possible with absolutely no emotional attachment or respect for the women they sleep with. Tybalt, per his own admission in Ez A Kéz Utolér, mentions sleeping with many women indiscriminately, and not being emotionally attached to any of them. But as the song goes on we realize that he doesn’t want that. He is in love with Júlia, and clearly does not see her as an object. He doesn’t believe any man is good enough for her (least of all him).
Now, I’ve seen it argued that he doesn’t actually see Júlia as her own person, only the ideal of her, and even has the whole ‘Madonna/Whore Complex’ going on, which is certainly a valid argument, but I’m not sure I agree with it.
I think he sees himself in Júlia - the sensitive and loving child he never got to be. It’s possible a part of him does not want to see Júlia lose her innocence (not necessarily in a creepy way), and become like him.
Don’t get me wrong, his love for Júlia is definitely creepy and a good amount of his rage comes from romantic (and presumably sexual) jealousy. He mentions that he never loved any of the women he slept with, and has only ever loved Júlia. According to his father, love is just a weakness and women are just for sex, but clearly Tybalt doesn’t agree.
Possibly the ONLY healthy relationship he has (err, had) in his life is with the Nurse - he is seen holding her hand at the ball and she embraces his body after he dies, and has to be pulled away by a servant. I believe this is possibly a nod to when the Nurse calls him the “best friend she had” in Shakespeare (another reason I love resj is the Shakespearen nods while doing its own thing).
Lady Capulet obviously loves Tybalt (judging by her reaction to his death), though his uncomfortable attraction does not seem to be reciprocated. The inclusion of his attraction to her could be another nod to Shakespeare - though it is not actually in the text, a fairly popular theory is that Tybalt and Lady Capulet were lovers (it’s possibly worth noting that Lady Capulet was likely closer in age to Tybalt than Lord Capulet). Personally I don’t think there was any inappropriate relationship in Shakespeare, but in a way it works specifically for the Capulets in resj - the relationships they have are not healthy at all: they lack boundaries, can’t communicate, and can’t express their (familial) love until it’s too late.
Obviously, Tybalt doesn’t have a healthy relationship with his aunt and has some kind of weird attraction to her, possibly as a result of only caring (in general) about the Capulets. Yet he seems to listen to Lady Capulet in a way he doesn’t to Lord Capulet - Lady Capulet orders him to find Rómeó, and later presumably to kill him (when she talks to him in his room).
So, my point is that Tybalt, despite claiming that women are just objects, has the most important (and possibly only important) relationships with women.
Anyway Tybalt is messed up and complex and the Capulets are even more dysfunctional than in romeó et juliette send tweet.
#rómeó és júlia#resj#romeo es julia#tybalt#tybalt capulet#i did NOT expect this to be so long#i need a life#my point was originally just about og romeo and juliet tybalt and juliet being stifiled by gender roles but of course it turned into resj
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Shanquella Robinson's fake and rachet motherf⛔ing friends.
#shanquella robinson#fake friends#weak men#two faced#weak modern men era#pookiesha#jealousy#envy#hate#snakes#evil#pookie#ray ray#theyre not your friends#beta female energy#trans black women#plotting
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That is correct, I didn't think the Mosaic law would be a practical way of running a society but that's what my client wanted so that's what I wrore
I don't really get the joke here, so I'm just going to take an opportunity to add another fact I found pretty interesting:
It was common in the Ancient Near East to create codes of law for display purposes (and outside it--cf. the Twelve Tables). This wasn't so much so that the common person could know and understand the law, because literacy rates were pretty low, but served a similar function as monumental architecture, to display the power of the ruler and at least notionally their justice. But in practice, the law as it actually functioned could be pretty different from the law as these monuments proclaimed it.
I think it's interesting to consider the law-as-a-symbol. There was some incidental discourse crossing my dash recently about whether "law" as a general concept protects the weak from the strong, or whether it legitimates the rule of the elites. And I think the answer is that is obviously does neither: that a society has a system of law tells you nothing about how that system functions, and you have to dig into the nitty-gritty details to determine whether the society has "rule of law" (which is good) or "rule by law" (which is bad). The former is, hopefully, a system where the law binds everybody, attempts to be fair, and there is at least some effort to enforce it equally; the latter is where law is a justification for a system power that makes no pretense at that sort of thing.
And I think rule by law is a very common state of affairs, especially pre-French Revolution! I might be generous and say pre-Enlightenment at best. Because before you have an ideological starting point of "ok, everybody should be equal before the law and the law should be impartially enforced," one-off privileges, aristocracies, and random exemptions from various rights and duties are pretty normal, and one of the major functions of law is to codify these inequities to make sure the king or his judiciary respects them. There is a reason one of the big components of revolutionary projects historically has been administrative reform, because in redrawing internal boundaries and revising old law codes, you can do away with these inequities and legally enshrined hierarchies.
And that pattern of inequity, of legally enshrined hierarchy, is of course thoroughly present in Leviticus and Deuteronomy. As Dan McClellan points out, agency in these codes flows downhill and it flattens everything in its path. The agency of men erases that of women: the law treats what happens if a man violates the property rights of another man over the women under his dominion (his daughters or wives), but the agency of the women ("consent" in modern parlance) simply makes no difference to the law. The only place women's sexual agency shows up in the law is in the one situation where a woman is interacting with a creature lesser than her, i.e., if she lies with an animal.
Even in the European Middle Ages I think there were real disjuncts between the worldview of the people using these law codes for devotional purposes and the worldview of their authors. In the modern era, of course, those disjuncts are yawning chasms, and as a result you get some really weak apologetic attempts to try to reconcile modern ethics with (again, impractical, unworkable, entirely theoretical) Iron Age legal theory. But there are lots of places in the Bible--both in the law codes and in the narrative portions--where I think the disjunct is so great that the aftercomers can't really make heads or tails of the worldviews of their predecessors. This is where the apologists (and before them, the commentaries of the Talmud) often have to invent major details out of whole cloth to try to turn the situation into one that makes sense to them. It would be better, and easier to construct a more consistent system of ethics, to just jettison the bits that clearly aren't applicable to the concerns of your community--but then of course once you admit that what parts of your scripture you do and don't accept are contingent on their relevance to your community, it is no longer the timeless and authoritative book from God, and it ceases to be a useful way of structuring power.
And as with codes of law, holy writ is (among other things) about structuring power! Otherwise all religion would approximately resemble Unitarian Universalism, an honest, gentle, thoughtful faith that is approximately irrelevant.
#'mimetic fitness' is so often just a measure#of how enthusiastic your followers are#about kicking the crap out of anybody who disagrees with them#coercion and hierarchy are therefore great for mimetic fitness#even if they are terrible for human flourishing and happiness
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Final response to a comment in the thread, I did see someone (i am sorry I cannot @ the relevant people, I just lost track) saying that maybe Russia’s mistake is sure, a mistake, but not that ‘epic’ - underestimating an enemy is pretty common in warfare after all. And completely fair, what is epic or not is totally subjective. I will just outline why I think it deserves high billing on the blunders tier list.
For one, modern war is just WAY more impactful than premodern war. The casualty rates, the civilian destruction, the intensity of the mobilization, is simply on another level. The pre-modern era had its share of destructive wars, don’t get me wrong, but Ukraine, a pretty small country in the current world, is wielding an army of probably ~750k men, a total not a single country probably ever fielded until World War One. And that is just the numbers metric. I think the vast majority of the worst blunders will, inherently, be in the 19th or 20th century due to the scale factor.
The more important metric for a blunder is the pre-war probability for victory based on the combatants. A naïve analysis should tell you that Russia should absolutely trounce in this war:
Population: 143 million vs 44 million
GDP: $1,720 billion vs $155.6 billion
GDP per Capita: $12,198 vs $4,880
Military spending: $65.9 billion vs $5.9 billion
(all 2021 figures)
A war of Germany vs France is like sure, maybe you overestimated one side or the other, but these are pretty peer competitors, no one is shocked by either outcome, its not an epic blunder. But Ukraine is widely regarded as the worst-off European successor state to the Soviet Union, and is on any qualitative metric worse off than Russia. For them to be winning this is a gigantic upset by the numbers.
Finally I think the consequences need to be taken into account - when Chad & Niger fight a border war its like, okay, if we are being honest the wider world doesn’t really care win or lose. Those countries will status quo afterwards. But Russia has launched a war of conquest in a world committed to obsoleting the concept, primed to hate them, with an economy completely unable to survive autarky. Meanwhile Ukraine went from political non-entity, with weak internal stability, to the unassailable darling of the globe and an iron will of unity committed to victory. Russia’s economy is freefalling, Europe is actually getting off its ass and committing to the energy transition, and the entire world hates Russia so much they are cancelling Russian ballet performances in Canada. The odds of Putin being overthrown, which seemed impossible, are now no longer zero. Sweden and Finland joined NATO! Along every single metric you can possibly muster, Russia is destroying itself. Its actually difficult to think of a comparable outcome in history, Nazi Germany had more relevant allies than Russia does.
I think that last point is what seals the blunder rating - they aren’t just losing the war, Russia is forfeiting its entire strategic apparatus for a fruitless goal they can no longer achieve, and honestly could never achieve, there was never a plan aligned with outcomes that made sense. Pretty epic in my book.
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Heart of Hyrule Modern AU pt 2
Wanted to get down some thoughts on world-building. specifically as it relates to war and reconstruction. this is all subject to change, i just needed to get it laid out somewhere so if something doesnt make sense please let me know!!!
Also CW for wartime, occupations, terrorism
The Borderless War
13 year long civil war
Started as an attempted coup to move from monarchy into military dictatorship
General Rivia of Noble Court planted his men at major forts throughout Hyrule. Once smoke signals were lit, the men mutinied and took control (or attempted to) of military stations and strategic routes.
Rivia was swiftly detained by the Sheikah protecting the royal family. The outposts were more difficult because the sitting king was deemed weak/ineffective. The forces were split 50/50 as was most of the populace
Rivia’s wife Nomi managed to take the royal family as political hostages with a rogue group of Sheikah she promised power
Nobles were rounded up and executed if they refused to kneel as were important figureheads. Entire towns were razed if they refused to swear fealty
As refugees fled to neighboring lands, the defected army hunted them down
During this time Ordon (previously on good terms with Hyrule) was forcibly occupied for their agriculture and isolation
The Zora remained neutral but accepted refugees, the Gorons defended the Eldin province from non official militants (the defected army), and the Rito fled from forest fires up into the mountains
The war ended when Nomi was betrayed by the Sheikah after failing to follow through on her promises
Without her at the helm, the uprising was swiftly squashed (About 4 years after Time is born/left in Kokiri Forest)
The Harkinian royal family takes the throne again (princess Zelda was born while the family was captive and sent as a protected hostage to a sheikah base in the east)
Weapons development
The war served as the turning point in modern magic weaponry.
The warriors family established their company by refitting old weaponry with mana charges which could fire liquidized or crystalline spells even by those not magically inclined
On top of projectile spells, the company produced traditional weapons (swords, spears, etc) that also used charges to apply spells to the weapons
They also produced tactical staves and learned to make the first lab-grown mana crystals (which they still have a patent on)
The weapons advanced much faster than the defenses which had devastating results for casualty numbers
Anti mage armor does come about towards the end of the war but is expensive and heavy
Reconstruction
Due to the lawlessness of the war era, monsters swiftly took over the wilds (especially in the south of Hyrule)
As the land was attempted to be resettled, monsters attacked and killed a lot of townships/camps
Monster hunting starts off as a noble trade but swiftly becomes synonymous with extortion and ransoming
Much of the south is left abandoned and with forces and resources already stretched thin, the royal army leaves the area to monsters with devastating results on the towns that survived through the war but were left defenseless
As a way to catalog refugees/orphans, Hylians are made to adopt true surnames over place names
The first wave of standardized official identification is rolled out. ID cards include names, birthdays, province of origin, and whether or not the person is magically inclined
King Harkinan establishes the sages as a unified council in peace attempts
Official seats of the country (castle town, goron city, etc) are fitted with anti mana barriers that require a key item such as a ring to use magic within the barrier limits
Dark magic is declared officially illegal. Light magic requires special licenses.
Post-war Occupation of Ordon
Ordon is denied a representative on the sages’ council leading the relationship to sour more. Hyrule has yet to pull out of the region.
The first Ordon Rebellion occurs resulting in the destruction of the great fort on the north end of Faron bridge. As a result, a second occupation occurs
Ordon is forced to name a capital (Ordon village) and an ambassador. Ordonians are then forced to take Hylian surnames.
A rebellion group forms with Ordon leading to a number of small terror acts and attacks on Hylian grounds. Anti-Ordon sentiments begin to crop up
Hyrule exhausts itself in Ordon and withdraws from the area under an unstable treaty. Ordon is considered Hyrule territory, but is allowed to functionally govern themselves. This makes trade/travel/logistics difficult between Hyrule and Ordon.
The temple of hylia constructed in Ordon Village is abandoned
Anti-ordonian laws (ID cards, permits/paperwork, lack of representation) are passed further dividing the kingdom and province
Character effects
Time is a war refugee who is born during the war and taken to the Kokiri for safety as an infant when his parents were outed as monarch loyalists working with a resistance
Malon’s family stayed in the south through the war and reconstruction. She vividly remembers hiding in the cellar from monsters as a child
Wars’ family owns and operates Warriors’ Weaponry Co. He has mixed feelings on his family’s legacy. He’s fairly inclined to magic and is somewhat skilled with a power spear.
Twilight is a Hylian reconstruction refugee adopted into Ordon. He faces a lot of anti-Ordon sentiment in Hyrule and the opposite in Ordon. His home and family were destroyed by a monster.
Wild was severely injured in a monster attack in the northeast of Hyrule which destroyed his home village.
Legend’s family is noble blooded but went into hiding after the war and gave up their titles.
#lu fanfiction#lu chain#somer writes#the heart of hyrule modern au#lore dump#idk if this makes any sense tbh#this was so depressing to write out XD#wars gonna have a sarah winchester era
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Was Ancient Sparta as a military massively overrated or were they more competent then its detractors would admit?
Most of what modern audiences know from Sparta comes primarily from 300 and other historical myth-making regarding Thermopylae. It ties very well with the cult of the elite that dominates a lot of military fiction in the current era, with the Spartan conception of someone dedicated entirely to the military sphere as a form of special forces.
Anyway, the Spartans did have a point in time where they had some soft power, but their military record was spotty, with plenty of defeats as well as victories. Much of their manpower had to be kept local in order to keep the helots in line, and their polis had little in the way of an economy to support a large and robust military that could expand its hegemony. Its diplomatic corps was likewise anemic which made it reliant on its military. Its officer corps did have pretty good control over their men, but they were inflexible, uncreative, and arrogant. This led to an army, which while not exactly weak, was extraordinarily brittle - the loss of even a few Spartans was a significant loss that Sparta struggled to recover from.
So as always, the question of "overrated" depends on the rating, but for most common pop-culture understanding of Spartans as an elite warfare unit, nigh-on invincible even in the face of overwhelming odds and commanding the loyalty of the other Grecian city-states against the invading Persians, they are overrated, and such a conception is largely ahistorical.
Thanks for the question, Anon.
SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King
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Sorry if you don't want to hear about this anymore, I do respect that and will understand if you don't want to answer this ask, but while I want to believe Amber there's one thing I'm stuck on that you seem the best person to ask about. I do understand that victims can be violent in self defence, but in the leaked tapes she gets angry at him for leaving arguments when they get physical, and tells him he should still come talk to her when she's throwing things. I'm struggling to understand how this could be self defence or not abusive in context.
cw for rape and domestic violence.
i’m actually happy to talk about this issue if people are willing to discuss it as politely and rationally as you are.
first i want to talk about perfect victims. the perfect victim myth has its roots back in the victorian era, when much of our modern understanding of gender and sexuality developed. at this period, women were were seen as essentially impotent, with no active sexual desire. a woman who exhibited a desire for sex was viewed as having a psychological disturbance. resistance to sex was not only considered normal, but actively encouraged. this meant that issues like spousal rape were not only legal, but completely normalized. if a woman was sexually assaulted in the 19th century and she did not obviously fight back- if she did not scratch, bite, scream, thrash, or otherwise have physical evidence of a struggle- it was generally assumed that she was complicit. this made sexual assault incredibly difficult, and i would venture to say generally impossible, to prove, especially if a woman was poor or a sex worker, or if a woman was raped within a marriage. physical violence against the spouse was also essentially legal: she was seen as her husband’s property, and her husband could do what he wanted to her. a “perfect” woman was meek, mild, submissive, and did not want sex, but she also submitted readily to to the will of her husband. you might ask how spousal submission fit with the standards for proving rape, since to be seen as rape a woman needed to actively fight back, something at odds with being a submissive wife. that’s where our modern issue starts to emerge: they are at odds. they are not meant to correspond, because a woman viewed as her husband’s property could not be raped by him. this brings us to the myth of the perfect victim.
the five traits of the “perfect victim” were developed by jason b whiting. they include:
being weak/vulnerable
being involved in a respectable activity at the time of victimization
being blameless in all aspects of the interaction
being victimized by an obvious offender
being someone who doesn’t know the offender
the myth of the perfect victim is incredibly pervasive in our society. the issue of being see as weak and vulnerable is frequently what prevents men from reporting that they’ve been sexually assaulted, and that is an issue that is very important to me: my research as a theologian primarily deals with sex abuse within the catholic church, which overwhelmingly affects men and young boys, something i include to make it clear that i am not predisposed towards assuming that only women can experience assault. and such an area of interest does not even begin to touch on the overrepresentation of trans, gnc, and nonbinary people who experience assault (of which i am one) who are unable to report because they are not perfect victims. and this continues all the way down to being gay, or being a lesbian, or being bisexual. in that case we might also be able to broaden the myth of the perfect victim to a few other criteria: being cis, being straight, being white.
i’m sure if you’ve followed how rape and domestic violence cases are treated in the justice system, or if you’ve had the misfortune of being involved in one, you’ll see some similarity between the standards of the 19th century and now. an article i read about the perfect victim summed it up very well: “you cannot be human:”
We are horrified when we hear the story of sexual violence, intimate partner violence or human trafficking — but when faced with the aftermath, we ostracize, marginalize and create an environment ripe for further abuse. (x)
a new problem i have noticed develop in a post-metoo society is that the myth of the perfect victim is being weaponized against victims, which is why i included the history of how it developed. you cannot apply the traits of the perfect victim to someone who is already a standard citizen who functions as dominant in their society. i’m not sure how i can make this clearer. maybe statistics will help:
1 in 4 women and 1 in 9 men experience severe intimate partner physical violence
1 in 3 women and 1 in 4 men have experienced some form of physical violence by an intimate partner
1 in 4 women and 1 in 7 men have been victims of severe physical violence
1 in 10 women have been raped by an intimate partner
1 in 5 women and 1 in 71 men in the United States has been raped in their lifetime (x)
in order to be victimized for not being the perfect victim, you must first be victimized by the society in which your victimization takes place.
so let’s talk about amber heard and johnny depp.
johnny drop is twenty years older and twenty pounds heavier than amber heard. they met on the set of the rum diaries, which filmed in 2008, when amber heard had only recently arrived in hollywood. amber heard was born in 1986. johnny depp had, by in 1986, already starred in slasher hit a nightmare on elm street. he was just about to begin starring in 21 jump street. amber heard began being physically abused by him as early as 2012. their marriage did not end until 2016. and i believe those tapes are from 2015. i also want to use this opportunity to state explicitly that heard and depp divorced before the metoo movement around harvey weinstein developed, in 2017, which was the initiation of women being able to speak out against being raped and victimized by powerful men in hollywood. depp had already built a hollywood dynasty of famous friends and supports: heard is not so fortunate. there was not a climate safe enough for heard to have publicly accused depp of raping her prior to the metoo movement, and arguably current trends have shown that there is still no climate safe enough for victims of powerful men.
so after four years of abuse, which is now alleged to be have been extraordinarily violent, a relationship within which amber heard now says she was raped, you’re telling me that amber heard, in order to be the perfect victim, should have done nothing to defend herself? if a man who is 20 years older and 20 pounds heavier than you, who you know has physically beaten you in the past, is angry and coming towards you, what are you going to do? allow him to continue hitting you? or are you going to fight back? are you going to throw something to keep him off of you? reasonably yes. ah, but you love him! so you want him to not be violent with you. but in order to stem the violence, he needs to be in the same room- but he’s attacked you in the past. and here we have a situation where someone is throwing things while also asking someone to stay in the room with them.
perhaps it would be better if amber heard had simply allowed herself to get beaten black and blue by johnny depp so there would be more “evidence” that he was violent. as an actress whose career stems on her physical appearance it would have been perfectly reasonable for her to simply cower and not fight back while a man twenty years her senior punched and slapped her so there would be physical evidence. maybe if she was covered in bruises and physically injured, she wouldnt have been able to go to work in the first place, since heard alleges depp frequently became violent when she had jobs or an audition. maybe if she’d just given him what he wanted and stopped working altogether, she wouldn’t have been hit.
but wait a minute, we actually do have physical evidence of depp hitting her! we have pictures of her leaving the la courthouse where she got her restraining order with a black eye (x), to say nothing of the evidence now being shown in court. but that’s not enough evidence, she clearly doctored those with makeup to look worse than they were. so i guess photographic evidence of his violence isn’t enough either. its his word against hers. and in a world where the white, cishet man is king, i wonder who people believe?
of every 1000 sexual assaults, 975 perpetrators will walk free. of 1000 assault and battery cases, only 33 perpetrators will be imprisoned (x).
so everyone supporting johnny depp and calling amber heard a liar, i’d like to know: when it is enough? what needs to be done for people to believe a woman is being violently assaulted by a man? if she can’t fight back, if she’s accused of doctoring her bruises, if she’s accused of lying- what does she need to do to believed? because this is not longer just about amber heard. johnny depp’s friend, marilyn manson, who viciously abuse evan rachel wood during their relationship, is now suing her for libel as well. was evan rachel wood also lying?
three women a day are murdered by their spouses in america. maybe a dead woman is the one telling the truth.
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