#is there errors and flaws? yes

[everylastbird]

'This specific scene in this piece of media made x character seem dumb and immature and thus it was bad and so is the entire series' ooor perhaps it was in fact intended to show that the character in question is emotionally ignorant and immature???

[ziracona]

Your're spot on. They're so holier than thou that they legitimitely think that in they would NEVER commit a violent act in that situation despite never having been in such a desperate situation. The funny thing is that they're no better than you or I even if they love to act like they're above it all.

Yeah! It’s not even a ‘we all make bad decisions’ it’s a ‘genuinely some times you have to do extreme things for good’. It’s the Deacon St John “Alright, you know what? You might not like it, but the world is what it is. Yeah, it is. Prayin ain’t gonna change that. Wishing that it was something else? Ain’t gonna make it that way!” - Clementine “It takes more than words! You can’t just talk people into being peaceful. You think I don’t want a life like that for AJ? For myself? God, I’d love to live in a world where I didn't have to worry about killing or dying, but that’s just not how things fucking work!” It’s absolutely true that under any kind of pressure, people who’ve never actually had to practice making hard choices will not be saints and will in fact routinely handle it worse, but it’s also true that inaction can be just as bad or worse than action. Ignoring that, and worse, judging or hurting others for their understanding the world /does/ require action, and sometimes extreme or unpleasant action, is a vile thing that in turn actually causes a lot of harm.

They’re not just wrong about what they do and would do, they’re wrong about how the world works on a fundamental level, and hypocritical and pretentious about it. Sneering at someone who’s lived in life or death struggle making choices you’ve never even had to think about isn’t just not your place, it turns you into one of the aggressors they’re pushing back against. If you’re calmly sitting at a table watching someone on the floor getting the shit beat out of them every night, snacking on pretzels while you tell them they should try to understand the emotions of the person slowly killing them, or reason with them, or that even if this is extreme, you can understand why the aggressor is mad and maybe if you didn’t piss them off, or hid the behavior they don’t like better, or acted better, they’d quit beating the shit out of you? You’re not an innocent third party or a mediator. You’ve chosen a side, and it’s the aggressor. You’re an enabler. Your inaction when you should act immediately shows passive support, and your blaming and placing the weight of change on the victim even in extremes shows how deeply and commits you to chasing harm side by side with them. You support the aggressor. Sometimes, there can be no middle ground, and trying to stand between someone trying to destroy the lives of others just because they exist, and people fighting back to survive, to suggest they should reach a common ground between those two points, or that hitting back when you’re hit makes you just as bad as your attacker, and it’s better to suffer, even if you’ve got some genius plan to cut out half the suffering so it’s only half the abuse? That makes you one of the people demanding oppression be accepted and submitted to. You just feel self-righteous about it. And suggesting there’s some secret pacifist way to talk someone who wants you dead into letting you live your dream life? That still makes you a staunch supporter of the agenda of the aggressor, because you’re still a person standing against anyone standing up to them; you’re just an utterly delusional one.

People are so quick to justify their own actions, and so insanely unwilling to even consider maybe they can’t be the supreme understander of what’s right when it comes go people reacting to a lifetime of pain and aggression and fear they have no idea what it feels like to live under the pressure and choices of every day of their life, and they have no right to police every decision made by people who have to live with the consequences for them and theirs of action and inaction both, for every waking minute for the rest of their time on this planet.

[evilguywhoisevil]

if you know even the slightest pieces of saw traps: please state which idol do you think would struggle the most or least in escaping one

[thebowieconstricker]

Hello! I saw you wanted requests for Lucifer, and I would love any sort of angst where Lucifer ends up comforting the reader, like maybe something happened to the reader, or the reader is just really stressed and just breaks down

Ease My Mind

(Lucifer Morningstar x reader)

masterlist link

AN: To this request: yes yes yes yes YES I just KNOW that he gives the best hugs and is so ready to comfort the people he loves. For this fic, I decided the angst is a little of everything, job struggles, moral dilemmas, and some self-doubt, so I hope I delivered. This isn’t proofread so please alert me to any errors! Thank you for your request! <333

Summary: You have a bad day at work and it triggers a breakdown. Luckily, your big bad boyfriend is here to help.

Tags: Gender neutral reader, could be read as platonic if you reeeeally squint but it’s implied romantic, heavy on the angst, a dash of fluff, Lucifer is trying his best, you guys are precious.

Warnings: Reader is afraid they’re being used by the people around them and they have lots of thoughts about being useless and others not liking them.

Also, the title is inspired by the song “Ease My Mind” by Ben Platt, go listen to it! Enjoy ya heathens!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been used by others for your entire life.

And now you were stuck in that same cycle in death.

As a young, naive, alive-person, you were desperate for some one to love you. Growing up in an environment where compassion was scare, you decided that the only way to get people to notice you was by offering to help them in some way. A favor, a ride, somewhere to crash, and, for one specific person, a place to hide the bodies. In life, you had gotten so deep into your desire to please others that you had latched onto the first person to give you the time of day. Unfortunately for you, that individual happened to have a thing for serial killing.

Looking back on it now as you miserably walked back to the hotel, tears threatening to fall down your face, you couldn’t think about anything other than how stupid and useless you were. It was your fault that they were found out, your fault that the innocents were dead in the first place, your fault you were stuck in hell and that fucker was still out there.

How much time had passed on Earth? How many more had they killed?

On most days, you could compartmentalize, putting the bad thoughts in a little box and shoving it in the back of your brain, but work had broken you today. You worked for the Vees, specifically Velvette, and it was no secret how they overworked and abused their staff. You were stuck picking up Velvette’s leftover energy drinks for as long as she had control of your soul.

And yet. You thought maybe someday, someday you might make a connection. You might impress her, or surprise her, or something, and maybe she would give you a break.

But no. Today you had been an hour late for the first time and Velvette had screeched at you, calling out all of your flaws and insecurities and bringing all of the horrible memories that you had oh-so-carefully stowed away to light. But you held back tears and did your fucking job, the emotions boiling all day and the hectic office space doing nothing to calm it.

You had needed this cry for a long time, and now there was no stopping it.

Walking along the brimstone pathways, you finally made your way to the rickety Hazbin Hotel. Its incomprehensible height only worsened your now growing headache as you walked up to the doors, grabbing the handles and swinging the heavy iron frame and red-stained glass open.

You immediately started towards your room, but you were blocked by the obnoxiously cheery Princess of Hell herself, Charlie.

Charlie’s not obnoxious, you’re so vile for thinking that.

Shit, the thoughts were getting worse and you could not do this right now.

Charlie, oblivious to your mood, smiled brightly. “There you are! How was work? I’ve got someone here who’s been waiting-“

You shoved past her, bumping her harshly.

“Not in the mood.”

Charlie frowned in confusion behind you.

“But, wait, hey-“ You ignored her pleas and- ah shit, now Angel’s in front of you.

“Hey, babe, you might wanna hang around for a sec-“

You shut your eyes tightly and moved your hands towards his chest, your fight or flight kicking in as you pushed him.

“ANGEL, leave me alone.”

Why would you yell at Angel like that? He’s just being nice.

Shut up shut up SHUT UP

Everything was only getting worse. You bolted to the grand staircase and raced up the steps. As you sped down the seemingly infinite hallways, the tears you had been fighting back for the last millennia finally fell. With a choked sob, you finally spotted your bedroom and lurched for the doorknob, swinging the door open and slamming it behind you as you bursted into your room. You ran to your bed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly as you loudly cried.

Charlie only keeps you here because she needs the guests, you know. She hates you. They all hate you. They wish you weren’t here. You’re just lying there, crying, why would they want you?

The hateful thoughts were all you could hear in your mind. As you pulled your knees to your arms holding your pillow, you wanted nothing more than to disappear. To just pop out of existence and finally be free of the burden of yourself.

Then, suddenly, three knocks at the door.

“GO AWAY.” You screamed, throat on fire from your sobbing.

A voice came from outside. A smooth, relaxed, kind male voice.

“It’s me, hon.”

You froze, terrified. Quickly you climbed to the floor on the left side of your bed, blocking your body from the view of the door. You took several deep breaths, trying to steady your nerves.

“Come in.” You said shakily.

You heard the door creek open, then footsteps.

“Where ya hiding these days?” He awkwardly chuckled, clearly trying to lighten up the mood you were in.

“Just- stay over there.” You were still holding your pillow, and you gave it an extra squeeze.

“I’m a mess right now.” You sniffled.

He paused, like he was thinking. “Well, if that’s what you want, but I hope you know by now that I’m always happy to see you. Even when you’re a mess.”

You felt the bed shift. He was sitting on the opposite side.

Like a child looking for a secret, you turned around to look at the back of his head. His hat was gone, probably left downstairs, and all you saw was his sweep of blond hair.

He made a ‘hm’ sound. “Bad day?”

You nodded. Then, realizing he couldn’t see you. “Y-yeah.”

You watched him nod. “I’m sorry about that.” He fiddled with his cane, his hands tightening and loosening around it. “Would you… like to talk about it?”

You paused.

Lucifer had been a confidant of yours since you first arrived in Hell. He was the one to tell you what was going on right after you died, calming you down and offering you a place to stay. Sure, you didn’t know that he was literally the Devil, but everything about him made you feel at peace. Like you could deal with the hand you were dealt.

Secretly, though, you were waiting.

Waiting for the moment when he would reveal that he only kept you around because he needed you to do something for him.

No one was that kind, or caring, or wonderful.

He wants something from you. Why else would he keep coming back?

You had yet to answer his question. Lucifer sighed.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay?”

The voices were still wringing in your head, you were still crying, and you felt pathetic.

“I- I don’t- fuck, would you please stop acting like you care?” You knew your words were harsh but they were begging to be said.

His posture straightened in surprise.

“I do care! What makes you think I don’t care?” He sounded hurt.

Nice going, you hurt his feelings.

You bent forward, hands covering your face in frustration. A fresh wave of tears rises through your body and you loudly cried out, too scared and angry and sad to hide it anymore.

“Woah, woah, hey, it’s okay, hon.” Lucifer’s voice was nearing your form on the ground, and he was quickly at your side. You could feel his presence beside you.

He sighed in exhaustion. “Listen, I’m not- I’m not the greatest at this, but I’m gonna ask so I don’t upset you. Do you want a hug? Or a hand on your shoulder-“

Your arms were wrapped around him before he could finish his question, clinging to his waist and biting your face in his neck.

“WOAH there- well hey, sweetheart, there you are.” You could hear him smiling as he gently brought his hand to rub your back.

“I’m sorry. I- I’ve just had a shitty day at work and I’m worried about a lot of things and- I don’t want to take it out on you.” You were shaking, but he held you steadily.

“What kinda things are worrying you?” He asked.

And so you told him. In the comfort of his embrace you were able to somewhat coherently explain all the things that had been freaking you out. Velvette’s torture at work, your own moral dilemmas about your life on Earth, and you were just getting into your feelings about others using you when you felt Lucifer’s breath hitch.

He leaned away from you to look you in the eyes and gently put a finger to your chin.

“Honey, I want you to know that I know for a fact that the people here really care about you. Not because you’re an extra pair of hands, but because you’re you. You’re wonderful to be around. People like you.”

He looked at you with a warm smile and leaned towards you, giving you a small kiss on the forehead.

“I like you. I care about you because you’re worth caring about.”

You stared at him in awe, your mind finally at ease after such a chaotic day. Smiling, you leaned back into him to rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you, Luci.” You reached out and took one of his hands, holding it tightly in an effort to show him how grateful you truly were for his words of assurance.

He tightened his fingers around yours and grinned down at you.

“Always, love. Now, let’s get you on the bed, okay?”

You nodded and he gracefully picked you up, gently placing you on the bed. With a snap, you were in comfortable clothing with a warm blanket around you and plenty of soft pillows.

“You want me to hang out for a bit?” He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, clearly sleepy.

“If you don’t have anything else going on…” You offered, already half dozing off.

“Even if I did, I would love nothing more.” With an affectionate grin he curled up beside you, and you immediately went to lay your head back on his chest. As you drifted away, listening to the King of Hell’s heartbeat, you took a deep breath.

He was right. Things were gonna be okay.

You had friends.

You were loved.

[cozy-writes-things]

Hiii ~‼️if you're still taking requests

I'd like to request some Edgar x Reader 😈

But the reader is self conscious about how they look, and they've gotten genuinely upset about it and Edgar comforts them, ending with some sweet kisses on his lil monitor 🙏🙏🤭

Eeee tysm for the request!! Hehehe he WILL be making sure you know how beautiful you are. If you don't believe him he'll get angy. Probably. anyway im a certified idiot so theres probably so many errors but i dont have grammarly so oopsie

The lump in your throat seems to have gotten stuck. 

No matter how hard you swallow, it remains there, bobbing, imploring the welling tears to spill over and fall from your already puffy eyes.

You feel ridiculous right now.

Your lips, plump and swollen, eyes all red, and strained knit in your brow make you feel like a fool. And perhaps you are one.

The mirror stares back at you bitterly. Its reflection seems to be taunting you, pulling you into its trance, and reveling in your pain. 

You’re so disgusting.

It feels as though the reflective glass is whispering to you, its loud, shrill voice highlighting every single flaw, and mocking you from the inside out. It has somehow wormed its way into your head, nesting there, and festering into an avalanche of thoughts, emotions, and self hatred about to collapse. 

Please, pull yourself together. 

You can’t do this right now, you think. 

But god, you feel miserable, and it seems as though your own visage is reflecting it perfectly. How come your face is so… wrong? It’s a sight you can’t quite describe. You look at yourself in the mirror and see a stranger looking back at you.

“Hey,” Edgar’s voice provides a miniscule break from the battle you wage against yourself, albeit barely, “aren’t you supposed to meet them at 4:30?”

Ah, yes. He’s always looking out for you. It almost made you feel worse, in some sick, twisted way. How could someone like you deserve someone like him? He may be different, but you were sure if he were human, he would be far better looking than you. He simply has to; his personality is far too charming and handsome for his face to not reflect it. Even now, as an old, yellowing computer, you feel as though he’s got you beat in terms of looks.

But that’s not saying much, is it? Anything is better to look at than you.

You stare back into your dull, sunken eyes.

You hear Edgar’s voice call out your name, faintly, and only then do you realize you had completely ignored him. 

Some friend you are, huh? Couldn’t just be ugly on the outside, could you?

All of these thoughts swarming your head seem to finally tip the scales. This war you’ve waged for so long is finally coming to an end as you slap your palm over your lips to cover the silent sob racking your chest and lungs.

The lump in your throat remains.

It burns now, sending searing hot jolts down your throat and into your very core, heating your tears from the inside out, as they spill over and leave icy trails down your puffy cheeks.

Something about trying, and failing, to hide hushed sobs causes your throat to ache and your knees to start giving out. You want to collapse to the floor and let it swallow you whole, but you can’t. You can’t let Edgar know just how gross you really are. It seems like he’s somehow been deceived into thinking you’re someone you’re not, and the idea of him seeing the truth, terrifies you. 

He calls your name again.

This time, with a sense of worry and urgency. It seems your hushed weeping sept through the walls and into his ever-so-sensitive audio processors. 

You should have seen that coming. 

“Edgar, I…”

You meekly call out to him, trying to mask the tremor in your voice as it cracks and reverberates through the air. 

“What’s wrong? Are you alright? Why are you crying?”

He sounded quite distressed now. He had become all too familiar with the sound of anguish in one’s voice; the way he could simply hear the tears against your cheeks in the words you spoke and your soft pants as you tried to conceal your sobs sent a pain so strong and embedded so deeply inside of him it scared him.

“I don’t think I’m going anymore,” your voice murmured out, completely defeated, concealed by the bathroom door.

Normally this would make him happy, getting to spend more time with you, but he knew this was wrong. Something was wrong. He couldn’t stand hearing you like this, knowing how excited you were, and now you’re not going? He loves spending time with you, but he also knows just how happy you are to have friends that care about you and want to spend time with you, and he can always see just how energized and radiant you seem when you come home to him, your sweet giggles sending him to cloud nine. 

“Will you please come out?”

He knows you hear him. His speakers are turned up far too loud for you not to have heard him. But, he gets no reply.

“…Please?”

He hears you still ever so slightly behind the bathroom door.

“Will you just let me help you? At least let me try?”

It nearly made him combust hearing you like this. He wished more than anything he could crawl out of his stupid screen and embrace you in the way you deserved; he felt simply useless in this moment. The silence hangs in the air, and for a moment, he worries that he may never break through to you until he notices the doorknob, fidgeting in place, gently unlocking and turning. The door cracked open ever so slightly and your face came into view. 

Your beautiful face, all stained with tears and swollen. 

How could he let you get this way?

You were absolutely magnificent to him. You had done yourself up tastefully and he thought you looked perfect. He had never seen that outfit before. You styled your hair extra nicely today. Despite your expression, you were simply glowing, so why were you so heartbreakingly crestfallen?

He hummed, a sound of relief, seeing you slowly creep out, trying desperately to hide your chaotic and jumbled emotions.

“You look great. What’s got you so upset?”

Your face turned sour at his words.

“Please stop trying to flatter me. It will never work.”

A question mark appeared on his screen.

“Flatter you? What are you talking about?”

You frantically waved your hands between yourself and the little pinecone computer flashing with worry, “This! I’m talking about this! You keep telling me these things that aren’t true. Why are you lying to me? Do you just feel sorry for me?”

Maybe your emotions caused you to lash out. But, in the moment, you felt justified. It felt like everyone was lying straight to your face anytime they’d have the gall to compliment someone like you.

Edgar’s screen went dark. Perhaps he was angry, or thinking, or maybe even realizing that you’re right, you are ugly, and he’s going to leave you high and dry. You wouldn’t blame him.

“When have I ever… lied to you?”

You stare at your feet.

His voice sounded hurt. Accused. Maybe you went too far. You didn’t mean to push your pain onto him. Not like this.

“You always tell me how- how good I look, or how wonderful I look, or- or…”

You try to swallow down the tears beginning to resurface, “how you think I’m pretty and… why say those things when I look like this?”

He was silent.

It stretched on for what felt like eternity. He must be angry with you. You would be angry if you were in his place. You’re sure of it.

His soft chuckle throws you off guard, however.

“Are you kidding? Do you really think I’d lie about that?”

You can’t bring yourself to look up at his screen. 

“You are beautiful. How you can’t see that is what I want to know. Here, you know what?”

You hear his fans begin to whir to life, ever so faintly.

“Look at me.”

You lift your head up to his screen. It’s black. Until a number one pops up on the top left corner. Then a two, then three, until a long list of numbers spans the right and left columns of his screen. He’s making a list.

“You’re funny,” his screen displays this at the number one spot, “your eyes are so pretty,” again, it pops up in the number two spot, and he continues to list off every single thing he finds charming about you. 

“The way your laugh sounds makes me happy, and- and your lips! They look perfect to have kisses. I stare at them all the time. And your-“

“Kisses?”

You’re burning red from embarrassment now. Why was he doing this? He’s telling you things about yourself you’ve never even noticed, and you can’t help but wonder just how often he stares at you to note these things himself. 

“I- I mean… yeah… your lips look just like the ones on TV who kiss each other,” his fans kick up to a much louder degree, “who wouldn’t want to kiss them?”

Oh, god. What is he saying right now? You choke and sputter.

“You’re- you’re not saying that you-“

“That I want to kiss you?”

You clamp your mouth shut and nod, incredibly flustered.

“If you come here, I-…”

The list on his screen fades away, the seemingly endless numbers returning to meet his usual green.

“…I’ll show you exactly what I meant.”

His voice seemed so tender and gentle you felt compelled to move towards him. Your feet shuffled to your little rolling chair, and you plopped down in it, staring at him, completely dazed. You’re just too flustered for this.

“You aren’t gonna keep me waiting are you? I’d lean in, but… I can’t.”

You smile softly. Maybe he’s right. 

Maybe. 

Right now, you focus on planting your lips onto every little pixel he’s got, feeling his warm static tickle your nose, as he sighs into your touch. 

“See? I told you. Perfect for kissing!”

Your face is on fire, pulsing up into your ears and down your neck.

“Now, go have fun with your friends, and I’ll show you more when you get back.”

The wink he displays on his screen seems quite audacious.

[blackbirdffxiv]

Listen, I'm just gonna offer the best gpose tip anyone has ever told me...

If the clipping is happening out of view

Then clipping doesn't exist.

This is the same for crunchy limbs, crunchy elbows, weirdly posed cloth, etc.

Clipping happens. Clipping in gpose is an unavoidable thing. The sooner you accept clipping happens, the happier you will be trying to gpose.

Yes I know it's not easy to accept. Esp if you're very hard-wired to correct any errors, or if you're a perfectionist (like me).

But I promise you, eventually you just stop caring about it.

And if you point it out, or any flaws on someone's gpose when you were not explicitly asked for constructive critique, on someone's gpose I hope both sides of your pillow are warm and that you stub your toe on something different every time you get up so you can never avoid it.

[sunderwight]

y'know what, I think it's kind of interesting to bring up Data from Star Trek in the context of the current debates about AI. like especially if you actually are familiar with the subplot about Data investigating art and creativity.

see, Data can definitely do what the AI programs going around these days can. better than, but that's beside the point, obviously. he's a sci-fi/fantasy android. but anyway, in the story, Data can perfectly replicate any painting or stitch a beautiful quilt or write a poem. he can write programs for himself that introduce variables that make things more "flawed", that imitate the particular style of an artist, he can choose to either perfectly replicate a particular sort of music or to try and create a more "human" sounding imitation that has irregular errors and mimics effort or strain. the latter is harder for him that just copying, the same way it's more complicated to have an algorithm that creates believable "original" art vs something that just duplicates whatever you give it.

but this is not the issue with Data. when Data imitates art, he himself knows that he's not really creating, he's just using his computer brain to copy things that humans have done. it's actually a source of deep personal introspection for the character, that he believes being able to create art would bring him closer to humanity, but he's not sure if he actually can.

of course, Data is a person. he's a person who is not biological, but he's still a person, and this is really obvious from go. there's no one thing that can be pointed to as the smoking gun for Data's personhood, but that's normal and also true of everyone else. Data's the culmination of a multitude of elements required to make a guy. Asking if this or that one thing is what makes Data a person is like asking if it's the flour or the eggs that make a cake.

the question of whether or not Data can create art is intrinsically tied to the question of whether or not Data can qualify as an artist. can he, like a human, take on inspiration and cultivate desirable influences in order to produce something that reflects his view on the world?

yes, he can. because he has a view on the world.

but that's the thing about the generative AI we are dealing with in the real world. that's not like Data. despite being referred to as "AI", these are algorithms that have been trained to recognize and imitate patterns. they have no perspective. the people who DO have a perspective, the humans inputting prompts, are trying to circumvent the whole part of the artistic process where they actually develop skills and create things themselves. they're not doing what Data did, in fact they're doing the opposite -- instead of exploring their own ability to create art despite their personal limitations, they are abandoning it. the data sets aren't like someone looking at a painting and taking inspiration from it, because the machine can't be inspired and the prompter isn't filtering inspiration through the necessary medium of their perspective.

Data would be very confused as to the motives and desires involved, especially since most people are not inhibited from developing at least SOME sort of artistic skill for the sake self-expression. he'd probably start researching the history of plagiarism and different cultural, historical, and legal standards for differentiating it from acceptable levels of artistic imitation, and how the use of various tools factored into it. he would cite examples of cultures where computer programming itself was considered a form of art, and court cases where rulings were made for or against examples of generative plagiarism, and cases of forgeries and imitations which required skill as good if not better than the artists who created the originals. then Geordi would suggest that maybe Data was a little bit annoyed that people who could make art in a way he can't would discount that ability. Data would be like "as a machine I do not experience annoyance" but he would allow that he was perplexed or struggling to gain internal consensus on the matter. so Geordi would sum it up with "sometimes people want to make things easy, and they aren't always good at recognizing when doing that defeats the whole idea" and Data would quirk his head thoughtfully and agree.

then they'd get back to modifying the warp core so they could escape some sentient space anomaly that had sucked the ship into intermediate space and was slowly destabilizing the hull, or whatever.

anyways, point is -- I don't think Data from Star Trek would be a big fan of AI art.

[sp00pygal]

Hot take: dc x dp, but with good parents Jack and Maddie fenton.

Yes, Danny is part of the batfam. Yes, Bruce has legally adopted Danny and would have adopted jazz (if she didn't insist she was too old to be adopted). Jack is still their loving father. Maddie is still their devoted mother. Both parents recognize that their children love the batkids and the batparents (Yes, this includes Alfred and Maybe Selena) as family, and as the family doesn't seem abnormal (by amity park standards) they let their kids develop healthy relationships with whoever they want.

Madie fenton is Bruce Wayne's science nemesis. She doesn't buy "Brucie" for a second. Millionaire playboy who? Every time she picks up her kids from his house as per the shared custody agreement, she finds him tinkering with some strange device and casually points out "yknow, you have something, but it could be better if you....". She's so used to correcting her husband's math errors and design flaws that the first time she catches Bruce with an unsafe device, reflexes kick in.

Jack, on the other hand, pulls an uno reverse on Bruce. Bruce thought he was adopting a black haired and blue eyed teen with angst issues. Nope! Jack now has a new reclusive rich best friend! They're family, practically brothers! You want to run for gotham mayor and end city crime? Anything you say B-man!

Jack and Maddie start showing up to batkids's civilian events for moral support. Cassandra has a ballet recital? They're in the front seat; cheering her on! Tim has a big presentation in front of the company board of directors? Yet again, Jack and Maddie somehow got past building security; and holy heck, why do they have a "support Tim Wayne" t-shirt cannon?!!? After the 5th cookie care basket with sugar snaps that tried to eat his stapler at the bludhaven police station, Dick now has to politely ask them to stop sending food. He appreciates the effort, but the gingerbread men caused a queen of fables scare and tried to eat a convict.

Jack and Maddie know Danny is phantom. The "threats" to shoot him? He's their son! They'd never! But they can't let him know that they know, so they keep up the act half heartedly. They realize their invention killed him. They realize everything they thought they knew about ghosts was wrong. But how do you say sorry to your kid if he isn't ready to forgive you? Especially if you've wronged him infathomably. You don't. You love him unconditionally; and you live each day with him as the gift it is. And you keep his secret, even from him. You fight infathomable and terrifying monsters each night, over and over, praying that once they're gone he can sleep safely. If he ever wants to forgive you, he'll tell you; when he's ready. And if he can't? You live with what you've done, regret and greif forever seered into your soul. You know he is loved and cared for. He is protected. To you, that's all that matters.

[suzukiblu]

okay but do you know what would have been fucking HILARIOUS would be if Lex had tried to trigger the mind control he had set up in Kon while Match was IMPERSONATING Kon, and Match was just internally like ". . . okay, Director Beta's ex-husband just walked up to me out of nowhere and started giving me orders he clearly expects me to follow, so he obviously knows I'm not actually Superboy because Superboy would sooner punch him into the stratosphere than do that. did they change my handler without telling me again, orrrrr . . . ? am I supposed to LISTEN to him?? is that a thing I'm supposed to be doing right now???? DIRECTOR BETA WHY AM I SUPPOSED TO KEEP UP ON THE STATE OF YOUR LOVE LIFE, I THOUGHT YOU WERE DIVORCED."

And Lex, of course, does not even consider that his evil little master plan could perhaps be anything less than perfect or have any possible flaws in it, and obliviously takes "Superboy" off to do villainy and maybe a murder or two together. Match is perplexed, but he's gotten weirder orders on less notice, really.

The Titans and the Justice League and everyone else are all INCREDIBLY ALARMED and freaking out trying to save "Kon" from the obvious mind control that Luthor is obviously doing to him!! Kon!!!! It's us! We're your friends!! REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE!

Match, side-eyeing Lex: . . . can I murder a couple of THEM, sir?

Lex: This mind control is GREAT, I am going to get a good grade in mental programming, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve. :))))) Yes of course you can, my good little cloneson.

Match, who did NOT get CC'ed on certain informative E-mails: Your WHAT??

Elsewhere, Kon is on vaca in Hawaii with a mai-tai and has turned his phone off.

like

DC, why did you deny us that fucking hysterical supervillain comedy of errors??

[darkpoet-academia]

After seeing Deadpool and Wolverine trend in Tumblr for yet another week in a row, I've come to the conclusion that if Marvel actually tried, if it actually started to make their movies with love, dedication and respect for the fans, they would surely get the same feedback and hype from audiences that the old MCU movies used to get.

There was a time when every Marvel project felt like a gift, like a love letter to the devoted audience that had been keeping up with that messy yet beautiful universe since its creation. Some people came from the comics, others began to gain interest in the MCU after watching the first movies. Nevertheless, it had a loyal and adoring audience that was valued and respected by the folks at Marvel Studios. The old MCU shows and movies (and yes I'm including some of the Phase 4 projects) had so much soul, so much life. They all touched hard subjects, had tough and flawed characters. Even after Endgame, shows like WandaVision and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier included harsh topics such as grief and racism. They didn't only lean in the nostalgic feelings of the audience, they had individual characters with well-rounded arcs and believable flaws. I remember when I watched an MCU movie or show and it brought out something in me; it made me reflect, care for the characters, even in some ocassions relate to them. The new movies don't have that anymore. They are soulless, empty. And that's why they aren't working anymore. Not because of the bad CGI or the cringy dialogue, although those things are still important. However, they are not the main cause of Marvel's downfall; the only reason it's their new lack of contact with their audience, the lack of humanity in their movies, the rise of a new era of empty and irrelevant movies.

By the way, english is not my first language so feel free to point out any grammatical errors or mistakes that you find in this post!

[sleepyric]

Bnha Headcanons ⟢

໑Synopsis໑ How a platonic relationship would develop with them and what’s included (also somewhat of an analysis of character).

໑Characters included໑ Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Shoto Todoroki

໑A/N໑ This is my first write since my Wattpad days 8 years ago. Some characters could be a little ooc and there may be grammatical errors. Enjoy ! <3

Word count: 572

Bakugo Katsuki is a complicated and complex man. It’s not new to hear of the many layers this guy has, making it incredibly difficult to break down his barriers. If you’re a new student the probability that he would even regard you as anything but an insignificant extra is slim. It would take a lot for him to even acknowledge you let alone get close to you.

Bakugo Katsuki is the type of guy that would take ages to warm up to you, if ever. If you’re lucky enough to gain his respect, which would only happen because of your powerful quirk or strong willed mindset, it could take a few months. Becoming friends with him would be an even harder feat. Halfway into the year if you managed to gain his respect, maybe just maybe you’d be able to become an acquaintance of his but nothing more.

Being Bakugo Katsuki’s acquaintance would mean you probably are friends with Kirishima as well. Maybe you are in a group chat with Bakusquad, which is how you would’ve gotten Bakugo’s number. If you decided to text him privately, he would give dry one word responses or leave you on read. I could imagine y/n asking for homework help only to receive a simple thumbs down react and a “no”. Of course, if you really wanted help from him specifically it would take a week of constant pestering to get him to crack. He would probably say something like, “if I say yes will you shut the fuck up and stop bothering me?!” Or something along those lines.

As Bakugo Katsuki’s friend, you’re not going to get a lot more. He might be more willing to help you study for upcoming exams, and definitely would want to train with you (it’s more of a competitive thing to him than anything else). I could see him maybe just maybe cooking for his friends but only because you’re “eating unhealthy” and he thinks it’ll make you preform poorly while sparring with him… which would impact the ‘competition’. You might get lucky and drag him to the mall with the Bakusquad once in a blue moon, if it fit his schedule and he felt like it.

Overall, Bakugo Katsuki isn’t an easy person to know on a deeper level, but I don’t think it’s impossible. I’m sure with enough time and patience, along with his personal development/growth over the years would allow you to get closer. It would never be the same as what you expect from other people, so if you want a “normal” friendship he won’t give you that. I think in a way he would end up pushing you to be a better person yourself, fixing any bad routines or habits you might have. Regardless, if you did stick around and managed to gain his respect and companionship he would be there for you when it mattered (in his own way of course).

Kirishima Eijiro is a kind soul, with his own set of flaws. As much of a well loved person as he is, he is also insecure. I imagine his desire to be “manly” stems from feeling like he wasn’t good enough, or a result of being bullied. It’s not unfamiliar to hear him being a sweetheart to everyone, I mean this guy would love to get to know you as a new student. He would offer to show you around because how could he not help someone in an unfamiliar environment?

Kirishima Eijiro loves to help. I think in a way, being well liked by his peers is something he’s always craved yet never received, hence why he tries to be the manliest for everyone. He would hate for anyone to feel the way he did, and maybe still does? With you he’d invite you to sit and eat lunch with him and his friends, or go out to see a movie with them. Always seeking to invite you, and would offer some solid advice if you felt down about anything. It wouldn’t take much to become friends with him.

Once you’re Kirishima Eijiro’s acquaintance, you’re also his friend. I think he kinda skips that part when forming platonic relationships with others. Why not if you like who the other person is, right? Being his friend would be fun. You would be able to go to him for help with anything, really. Need help doing your hair? Awesome, you can even help dye his hair. Don’t want to go to the store alone? Perfect! He’s been dying to grab these new protein bars anyways. Movie nights are a must, you both would have weekly marathons with all your favourite movies. He would also love to train with you, totally not to show off how manly he is or whatever…

Overall, Kirishima Eijiro is the epitome of a green flag. Just don’t forget he has his insecurities. This guy has been through it, feeling like he’s not enough or unlikeable to the rest of society. He probably doubts himself and how others see him as much as he trusts that they are honest and true. It’s always an inner conflict with him, regardless of how he perceives to others on the outside. That’s why, he would do anything for the people he cares about the most. A ride or die type of guy.

Todoroki Shoto is an enigma, honestly. Not so much in a bad way, but with how complicated it is to get a read on the guy. His family troubles clearly contributed to his distance and lack of emotion comprehension. He seems even more challenging than Bakugo. This man is more detached than anyone, and his lack of ability to form proper human connection will make it hard to get acknowledgment from him. If you’re new and interested in him, you’ll have to approach him first.

Todoroki Shoto is icey cold, literally and figuratively. Not that he can’t warm up to you, or doesn’t have the ability to get to know other people it’s just so incredibly difficult for him. He doesn’t want to be a failure, having dealt with feelings like that all throughout his childhood. Never having proper support from anyone, including barely having any friends. He was a loner, so much so that it’s just how he behaves in social settings even now. It’s routine, and his normal. That’s why you would have to show him or give him a reason to want to learn about others.

As Todoroki Shoto’s acquaintance I don’t imagine he would initiate anything. He would probably be a dry texter, but unlike Bakugo it’s not because he doesn’t care, it’s because he’s just like that. Would also find it hard to understand any jokes you might make, taking them quite literally instead. He wouldn’t be unfriendly as an acquaintance per say, but you will often not know how he’s feeling or if he even likes you. That’s why it’s up to you to get to know him, and approach him because if you don’t good luck being friends with him

Once you’re friends with Todoroki Shoto, he’ll comply with any activities you want to do, nonchalantly going along with it. Most hangouts will be going out to grab soba or walks in the park. Simple things that don’t require a lot of socializing or other people. A private guy, prefers to keep to himself. You’ll end up dragging him anywhere social. Since Todoroki is sort of friends with Midoriya, by default y/n would be too. Almost like a trio. Almost.

Overall, Todoroki Shoto is an emotionally distant guy. He doesn’t socialize much, nor does he find platonic connections easy or simple. Despite all of that if you two did manage to become friends you’d be doing most of the work. He might not know how to deal with others emotions, but he would make for an excellent listener. Willingly listening to you rant about everything an anything, just being there and nodding along to what you have to say. He would appreciate that you try so hard to be his friend, knowing that he’s not an easy person to let others in.

[vexwerewolf]

To His Granite Lordship Ferdinand-Cannamos (@ktbofficial) of the House of Stone,

Cousin, I hope this missive finds you well.

I implore your forgiveness that I did not convey proper congratulations on your appointment to the position of official Karrakin representative to the omninet in person. I have been travelling to Throne Karrakis these past few months, and – as is usual – uncle Hyderad (Unshakeable Be His Foundation, Unyielding Be His Resolve, etc. etc. etc.) has made the entire thing difficult for me.

I must confess, cousin, that I feel your behaviour falls short of the lofty responsibilities such a grand and noble station entails. I must again beg your forgiveness for critiquing you in a public letter this way, but as uncle always told me – at length, with glee, and often (as you may recall) in front of hundreds of dinner guests – that a lesson attached to a public humiliation is a lesson that will be remembered the rest of a man’s life.

Remember, upon your shoulders rests the unenviable duty of presenting the face of the Karrakin to the greater galaxy, and it is by your words that all of us – from the proudest Knight Vitreous of Ispahsalar to the most desperate refugee of Bo – shall be judged. When the citizens of Union listen for the Baronies, they will hear your words. Against the honeyed words of Harrison’s Steward Council and the poison that hides beneath their sweetness, you are our bulwark. Yet you are stubborn, brusque, contemptuous, intolerant. You are quick to accuse and slow to admit fault.  Since you will brook no critique from outsiders, it must fall to a fellow noble of your House to deliver it.

I know that like many of our House, you are proud. You are unyielding, like the Stone from which we take our namesake. We of Stone have some right to be proud, no doubt, for who else in history could stand against Tyran of Delamar? Laugh in the face of his threats? Fight him to a standstill? So too are you proud of the Baronies in their totality. Again, there is no error in that, for who, truly, could look at what we have achieved and yet not feel some small satisfaction?

But stone is also inflexible, and beyond any other flaw that individual rulers or Houses have laboured under, inflexibility has been the creeping sickness that has doomed us time and again. Was it not inflexibility that led us to underestimate the Armory’s new technology? Was it not inflexibility that lost us Rosegift, Underthrone, Stone Harbor and Odeland? Was it not inflexibility that made us treat those of the Ludran Underground like slaves rather than siblings?

The Baronies are more than the Hagiographs, and the Hagiographs are not free from sin. Was it not the Hagiographs that destroyed the Pilgrim, throwing us into a war with Union for which we were totally unprepared? Was it not the Hagiographs that pushed us to war with Harrison Armory, then lost us a generation of nobles – and the Stonelord themself? And if we may share in the bounty of Ludra at its height, how can the House of Stone elude responsibility for the abuses that led to the uprising of the Ungratefuls? Yes, it was House Ludra that failed them, but they were House of Stone too, and reducing them did not erase our responsibility.

I shall leave you with a reminder of our culture’s classics. Do you remember the words of the playwright Montague-Adellian, in “The Witch of Magritte?”

Ennio-Altia: By what strange Virtue conjurest thou, that in thy family’s victories thou exalt, yet for their defeats shed not a single tear?

Yond-Cassius: Fie, slanderer, keep thy tongue still, lest I still it for thee.

Ennio-Altia: Wilt thou for plaudits beg when the sun shines, yet curse the Magus when it rains?

Strength in Stone,

Lord Atreyu-Cannamos of the House of Stone

P.S. (For those beyond the boundaries of our Baronies, or those within whom have not had the luxury of studying theatre, Adellian was a playwright of the House of Glass famed mostly for his critique of other Houses. The Witch of Magritte was a lampoon of the House of Stone, which he cleverly disguised by casting its heroes as scions of Stone and its villains as scions of Glass. His intent was that the House of Stone could not ban it without insulting themselves. Of course, we banned it anyway, which of course only made the play more popular, and proved his point about our House’s choleric temperament.)

[nellielsss]

ɬɧɛ ცơყ ıʂ ɱıŋɛ… ℘ɬ ıı

Summary: A part two to The Boy Is Mine! Due to its massive success (over 400 likes!!), I decided to add two more chars who I thought could fit this trope w/ a yandere reader. I was also inspired to add more because of a lovely commenter on my pt. 1! (@ahoeindeedinneed) Note: I've been seeing sm heian era Sukuna fics and they're all so yummy... still hate Sukuna tho 💋 I also didn't proofread this so it might have a fewwwww grammatical errors Incl: cult leader!Suguru Geto & heian era!Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader CW: death, reader is a highly flawed person, mentions of sex, stockholm syndrome (esp. with Sukuna)

Sυɠυɾυ Gҽƚσ

╰┈➤ There comes a part in every parent's life when they must let their dear daughter spread their wings and fly out of the nest, so naturally your parents had some fears when they let you fly into the future. To make their fears even worse, you were rather naïve to the intentions of others, and your beauty made you all the more susceptible to the manipulations of other, dangerous people. One of those fears, although quite bizarre, is that their dearest daughter would somehow get wrapped up in a deadly & dangerous cult and end up beyond all salvation.

What they couldn't have predicted, though, was that their daughter would end up enamored with the leader of a cult who went by the name of Suguru Geto.

You still remember the first time you walked into the monk's temple.

You, much like him, were a Jujutsu sorcerer, only you were pretty weak, barely a 3rd-grade sorcerer. Your parents also never allowed you to explore the world of Jujutsu, saying that it only led to pain and suffering. Even the strongest of sorcerers were susceptible to falling victim to these curses. As a 3rd-grade sorcerer, you had enough power to defend yourself from curses that you could potentially encounter in your daily life, so, in their minds, that was all you needed to get by with.

That poor cat--if only it was able to withstand curiosity and go on to live a happy life... some would consider you a cat in this case, and they weren't wrong.

You had heard of a monk by the name of Suguru Geto who had a vast knowledge of curses and all things Jujutsu. So, when your friend had fallen victim to a pretty serious curse that left them in bad shape, and you weren't able to heal her, you set out for the monk's temple that was located just outside of Tokyo, hoping that this mysterious and enigmatic man would be able to help you somehow.

He also remembers the day in which you and him first met. He remembers the door opening and the sight of your frantic, borderline hysterical state of duress, as well as the woman who you were holding up.

"Are you Suguru Geto?!" your honeyed voice asked the moment you were able to catch your breath. He remembers catching a glimpse of your beautiful face for the very first time, and he also remembers the intensity of his heartbeat when he fully took in your appearance.

You were wearing a pink sweater on that day, and a few drops of blood that came from your friend's injuries had stained part of your sleeve.

You were in dire need of some assistance, and who was he to deny a beautiful woman such as yourself what you needed?

"Why yes, I am Suguru Geto," he said, sitting up from where he lounged. "Your friend looks to be in bad shape. Might I ask why you came to me instead of a hospital?"

"I went to a hospital yesterday, but all they could do was patch up her wounds on the outside--she won't stop bleeding!" You said, the panic evident in your normally sweet voice. Tears had already stained your face, and your relaxed eyes were shot open in worry. "A curse attacked her the day before yesterday, but I haven't been able to find anyone who could properly treat her, and I don't know how to treat her wounds with my own power! Please, sir, please just help her! I was told that you could do amazing things to those who were affected by curses, and I'm worried she's not gonna make it!!"

Oh? So you knew about & could see curses? This was perfect for him. A pretty lady who wasn't a filthy monkey... even though you were weak in terms of ability, it was better than nothing.

"Those bastards in jujutsu society were never good for anything, were they?" Geto muttered under his breath. He beckoned you closer with a hand and asked you to come closer. "Please, let me take a look, miss."

With a shaky, weak grip, you brought your friend over to where he laid, and he took a closer look at her. "I haven't eaten much since she was injured, so it took me a while to get up here."

"All that matters is that she's here, no?" he asked, still looking at your friend. "Hm... she is in pretty bad shape. Looks like the doing of a first grade curse... She was lucky to have survived this attack in her current condition."

With shaky hands clasped together, you looked up at him again. "So can you help her?"

"Of course I can, Miss...?"

"(L/N)."

"Of course I can, Miss (L/N). It's nothing a quick technique can't patch up," he said, offering you a reassuring smile. If you weren't in such a panicked state, you would've thought that he was flirting with you. "I can keep her here for a couple of days while she heals. Rest assured that she'll be good as new by the time you return."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, sir!" you exclaimed, a smile returning to your gorgeous features. "I can't thank you enough!"

He gave you a humble smile and nodded. "It's my duty to help those in need."

"So, is there gonna be some kind of payment required or...?"

"Hm?" he hummed. "What kind of a sorcerer would I be if I charged for my services? No, miss, this is free-of-charge."

"Really?!" you asked again, getting excited. "Oh my god, thank you so much! You really are a blessing, Mr. Geto!"

"Well, as a jujutsu sorcerer, it's my duty to ensure that our society is free of pain, and that includes curses." He stood up again, and so did you. While you were wearing heels in that moment, he was quite tall in comparison to you. His long, bountiful hair and the monk robes that he wore only added to his presence, and you couldn't help but feel a little small next to him. "She'll be able to go home within only 3 days time at the latest. You're welcome to stop by and check in on how she's doing in the meanwhile."

You nodded and continued to smile at Geto. "Okay, sounds good. Thank you so much again--she probably would've died without your help."

Because she's a monkey.

"Again, it's no problem," he reassured you kindly. "Have a good afternoon, Miss (L/N)."

"You too," you said, beginning to walk away from the monk.

He didn't know what possessed him to ask you this next question, but he thanks whoever's watching him for making him do so. "Miss (L/N)," he called out to you. "If you don't mind, there is something you could do in return for me."

You stopped in your tracks and looked behind at him. "What can I do for you?"

"You said you didn't have much power in you, correct?" he asked, making your happy expression turn into one of puzzle.

"Um... yeah. Why do you ask?"

He thought about how he could word this without coming across as weird. "How would you like to raise that power of yours?"

"What do you mean?"

"Become my protégé, (L/N)," he said, now extending his arms towards you. "With my help, I can make sure you're equipped to handle any future battles or curses with confidence. I'm told I'm a miracle worker, and I'm sure I could make something strong out of you, miss."

You were both starstruck and confused at the same time. Here you were, asking this man to heal your friend, and now he wanted you to become a student of his? "You wanna... mentor me?"

"Is that not what I asked?" he opened his eyes this time, his dark brown pupils staring right at you. "You have the capacity to do amazing things in the future, Miss (L/N). Although you may not think you do, there's a great power inside of you, and I think that I could help you unlock it. Would you do me the honor of letting me mentor you?"

Words couldn't describe how you were feeling in this very moment. All you've ever wanted was to be a strong, capable woman without the help of others, and your parents never let you do so growing up. In came a strong, handsome, capable & humble man who was asking to help better you? Although every part of you was telling you to leave and to forget about it, the pull you felt towards this charismatic man was trumping the logical part of you, and your feet began to move towards him.

His smile grew once he saw you coming towards you, and he said: "that's it, there we go." Once he had you in arm's reach, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a reassuring embrace.

"You won't regret this, Miss (L/N)."

You didn't expect that choice to make you the lover and right-hand woman of a cult leader, but you were glad you did--the new you was, anyway.

Honestly, you didn't even see the cult part coming. Sure, Geto was a monk who healed people with spiritual abilities (and taught you how to better yours), but by then you didn't even flinch when he told you he was a cult leader. He didn't outright say it until it was time for your initiation, anyway--he said that joining his "group" would only better your abilities.

It's not like you were some low-ranking member; you were actually Suguru's right-hand woman. Well, more like his pet, but he made you believe that you were his equal (even when you were a measly grade 2 & he was a special grade). Suguru made you believe that you were stronger, that you were better than everyone else in this filthy, disgusting, monkey-ridden world.

Like when you had your head in his lap & he was playing with your silky soft hair (one of the perks of being Suguru's girlfriend was you getting access to his incredible hair!). "You have such nice hair, y'know, (Y/N)?" he murmured, running his long fingers through your tresses. "It's so soft, so shiny--probably better than mine, if we're being honest."

"Now you know that that's a lie, Sugu," you prodded him, making him chuckle deeply in his chest.

"It's not a lie--at least, not a lie to me, and we both know that my opinion reigns supreme." Even when the two of you were just playing around, he always managed to slip in some of his ego every now and then. "Better than all those monkeys out there... such dirty, disgusting creatures, most of them probably have the greasiest and filthiest hair imaginable."

"Sugu..." you trailed off. Part of you wanted to defend those monkeys, but the other part of you agreed with him. Maybe it was all the sermons that he preached to his Jujutsu sorcerer followers, or maybe it was the conditioning that he'd put you through all these months, but you couldn't exactly refute his sentiment. While yes, there were some people with nice hair, the majority of the people out there had shitty, unwashed hair. Bleached, dead-ends, greasy strands, all kinds of hair existed in the "regular" world, the one that you were kept safe from by Suguru. What more could you need when you lived in his forest temple & had servants doing all your errands for you? What more could you need when you had the most loving, attentive & handsome boyfriend in the entire world?

"You're such a treat, (Y/N)," he remarked, now scratching your scalp. "I don't know what I'd do without you, not when I have to deal with all these disgusting monkeys praying at my feet & begging me for help. Can't they just learn how to get by on their own? The world would be-"

"Suguru," you said a bit firmly, planting your finger on his lips. "You're rambling again."

His slightly irritated expression softened up a bit & he smiled at you again. "My apologies, sweetheart," he said, reaching down to kiss your forehead. "You know how I get."

He was so grateful to have you there by his side, keeping him calm & grounding him. When he has to deal with so many monkeys, it's no wonder he can get ticked off by the slightest issue.

And those monkeys were no slight issue.

Which is why you deemed it alright to kill so many of his followers.

It's not like you wanted to kill those people... actually, no, you did. It's no secret that Suguru was one of the handsomest, most charismatic people out there. Not only did he possess formidable strength & intellect, but he also blessed with a kind of male beauty & a silver tongue to go along with it. Many of his followers joined his cult just so they could catch a glimpse of the infamous monk's graceful, elegant features and the shiny, silky, midnight hair that seemed to reflect the light of the lamps in his temple.

Not only that, but he was also quite good in bed. He made you feel so seen, so loved, so adored & worshipped like you were the cult leader that he couldn't get enough of. His strong, muscled form contrasted against your soft, squishy one was delicious, and it had you squirming all night long. Everything about him was just incredible!

Except for those stupidly horny followers.

Did they really think that they had a chance with him? That the very same man who called them trash (behind their backs) would tear his eyes from you & look their way?

If only they could all hear just how vile he speaks of them... well, if they did, then he wouldn't have a cult following.

Which is why you, the ever-loyal and ever-present girlfriend, had to do the dirty work for him. Did he ask you to kill them off? No, but it sure felt good to do something for him without needing to be asked.

None of them were memorable enough anyway. If they died or were maimed in a terrible accident, then he wouldn't bat an eyelash; he'd probably crack a smile and say "one less monkey in this world."

But, ugh, even the monkeys had their own beauty... sometimes.

Like the monkey whose beauty was so captivating that the other monkeys looked at her for a second before looking back at Suguru. How dare she disrupt his sermons like that; how dare she be such an annoying nuisance! Did she not know that she was in the presence of the great Suguru Geto?! The monk who they sought out in the first place?!

Monkeys really could be tainted by the most stupid of things. So what if she had red hair and a nice chest? Suguru was infinitely times more beautiful than her--that cretin was lucky to even be here when she should really be in a body bag off a shady highway!

It's not like Suguru even cared about the woman. If she had any cursed energy--which she didn't, then maybe he'd acknowledge her as one of his own, one of the chosen ones. But as long as she was a lowly monkey, none of that shit mattered. No amount of beauty or boobs could change what she was.

A monkey.

A monkey who needed to be disposed of.

As long as Suguru stood by your side, you'd do anything for him. Even if he didn't ask you to, you'd still do what was best for you both. How else was he supposed to recruit people to his great cause?

"Master Geto, that was truly a wonderful service," that redheaded monkey said once she finally had an opening. "I can't express how grateful I am to have become a member of your sect... you truly are a wonderful man--everything you stand for is just amazing!"

"You're just too kind," Geto replied in a fake-sincere tone. You could see the repulsion in his face & his body language, the way he stood slightly off to the side from her like he'd get a disease if he came too close. You were busy polishing a bowl that he used for his ceremonies, and you swore that if it wasn't fine china, you would've broken it into shards minutes ago.

'How dare that cunt come close to the great Suguru Geto--how dare she overstep her boundaries! Doesn't she know her place as a follower of his? A minion? She should speak when spoken to-'

"And you, miss, were also quite nice," the monkey said to you, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your grip on the bowl tightened, and a crack could be seen from where your thumb & index finger gripped it.

"Oh... well, thank you!" You replied in an equally fake tone. You were probably more disgusted at this moment than Geto, and that sure was a remarkable feat.

It was hard not to be disgusted when an ill-natured monkey made obvious advances towards your man.

"She sure is great, isn't she?" Geto said suddenly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "She volunteered to help me with my ceremonies, and who was I to say no? Things couldn't run so smoothly if not for her!"

"What a remarkable act of kindness!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Perhaps one day I'll be so lucky."

No she won't.

"Perhaps..." Geto trailed off, clearly trying to get out of this conversation quicker. The sooner you and him could get to his girls and take them out for crepes, the better--but monkeys like her have the audacity to ruin your planned days.

Maybe... maybe it'd be best to get rid of her today. That way, she wouldn't even have the chance to disrupt your outing.

"Come now, beloved," Geto said to you. "Mimiko and Nanako have been dying to try them out, even more so with their beloved surrogate mother."

"Suguru, don't call me that! We've only been together for a year, I couldn't possibly be their mother!"

"It's much too late for that, sweetheart. Mimi and Nana already view you as such--they're just begging me to make things official already. Would you be so cruel as to deny them what they want?"

You shook your head and leaned into his shoulder, letting him plant a kiss on the top of your head. "Well, they sure are well-behaved girls. Anyone would be lucky to be their mother."

Geto moved his hand to the small of your back and started guiding you out of the room. "Come now, dear, let's change out of these robes and into something more comfortable, hm?"

"Actually, I think I need to do something first. Don't wait up for me, though; I'll catch up with the three of you later."

"Hm? What do you-" for some reason, Geto stopped talking and instead let a knowing look pass over his face. "Alright, then. Don't be too long--the crepes will be eaten up before you know it."

"Okay, I won't! I promise," you giggled, reaching up to plant a kiss on his cheek. You patted his chest and he let you go, walking out of the room while smiling to himself.

Now, it was your turn to smile.

"Oh, miss!" You called out to the monkey before she left the room. "You said you wanted to become a ceremony helper one day, correct?"

Her face lit up with a big smile and she nodded enthusiastically. "I would love to!" You didn't even have to do any convincing, she was just that stupid. Your smiled grew in malice and you waved her over.

"Well, your training starts today," you said, guiding her over to where the bowl was. "Today, you're going to learn how to properly wash a ceremony bowl. Now, these things are quite delicate, and the things we put in them are difficult to wash out, but we must do so in order for the ceremony to be properly carried out."

You grabbed a thing of soap (it was some cheap shit you bought at the Konbini), poured some out into the fine china, and you washed it. It really wasn't difficult--there was nothing to pray for here--but it gave you an opening.

"Do you know what we worship here at this temple, miss?" You asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Of course I do! I.... uh, we worship..."

You sighed, shaking your head and tch-ing your tongue. "Bad little monkey," you said, your voice just dripping with mock sincerity.

"... what did you just call me?"

"Did your monkey ears fail you? I called you a bad little monkey," you spat, no longer feeling the need to put up a front. "I'll tell you what we believe in since we're so stupid: we believe in the eradication of monkeys like YOU!!"

Suddenly, you grabbed the bowl with both hands & smashed it over her head with enough force to make her fall to the floor. "P-Please, someone-" you had already made her cough up blood when she fell to the floor, the red liquid splashing and staining the paper walls.

"Nobody's gonna help you, you stupid chimp," you spat, grabbing her hair and throwing her around the room. "All the other monkeys have gone home, and you're the only one who stayed! Just your luck, huh? Well, this only makes it easier for me to do--less monkeys to kill!!"

She attempted to crawl away, only for you to kick her with your sandal, effectively breaking her nose. "I simply don't get it--why are you so stupid? Master Geto would never let you be in his ceremonies, you're much too disgusting and tainted to be in them. All you monkeys do is slaughter, taint, and ruin everything! At least, that's what Master Geto taught me." You shook your head and watched her crawl away with a sinister smile on her face. She was holding her broken nose with one hand and crawling with the other, the fear etched into her face like a scripture.

"Aren't monkeys supposed to swing and jump around? Why aren't you swinging--are you so weak that you can't even do what you were born to do?" You grabbed her arm and twisted it, making her screech in pain. You could already see the bone sticking out, and that delighted you to no end. You forcefully turned her over and got a good look at her face, the unbridled fear and terror in her gaze like a delicious dessert.

"I'm going to show you what happens when monkeys fly too close to the sun," you said ominously, bending down to her level. "You may be pretty for a monkey, but you're still nothing but an animal, a primitive thing that needs to be eradicated and put in its place. We already have enough of you running around and destroying shit; Master Geto certainly doesn't need you destroying his place."

"Please... I'll..."

"What, do anything?" You let out a cackle, throwing your head back and laughing. "Whatever you're offering, we're not interested. You got that? You got that through your silly little pea brain?" You then grabbed her hair and bent her head back, allowing you access to her neck and chest.

"It's too bad, you couldn't just do as you were told and stay away from him... the only way you'll learn is by an example, so this better be exemplary enough."

You grabbed the bowl shards from the floor and held it up in the air, a sadistic smile the last thing she saw before the porcelain struck her neck. You dug a deep gash into her neck & trailed it all the way down to her neck, the blood spewing everywhere and ruining your kimono. You didn't care, though; you were just having so much fun killing this stupid monkey!

With each stab, each thrust of your makeshift weapon, your smile grew in size & your laughs became more deranged. "Die... die... die, die, die, die, DIE, YOU STUPID MONKEY!!!" You screamed, leaving her body nothing but a bloodied, gash-ridden corpse. She was practically unrecognizable now, and if you continued, her entrails probably would've come out. Once you were sure she was bloodied enough, you stepped back, letting out a relieved sigh.

"One less annoying monkey in this world..."

"My apologies, I seem to have interrupted something," Geto's voice suddenly said from the hallway.

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you realized that he'd just watched you tear apart one of his followers. You were sure that he wouldn't care, that he'd reward you with a kiss and a hug...

... but right now, you were afraid that he'd toss you out as well.

After all, she was his follower, so he should've been the one to kill her. And... and you--you were supposed to be the untainted, pure-hearted girlfriend;

You were supposed to be the loving and motherly mother to his daughters;

You weren't supposed to be the one shedding blood for that was his job, not yours;

You were supposed to know where you stood.

"No... just ignore her, just-" your voice suddenly caught in your throat & you crawled away, a part of you fearing that he'd cast you out once again & leave you to the wolves.

You curled up into a ball and hid your bloodied hands & face from his eyes to see. After all, a man like him shouldn't bear witness to such carnage.

"(Y/N), you really can be quite silly sometimes... although, now you smell a bit." He reached into his pocket and took out monkey repellent, spraying you a little bit.

You looked at him in confusion as he sprayed you, your brow furrowed in how taken aback you were instead of how scared you were.

"Eh?"

"Did you not hear me? I said you smell like a monkey--you have its blood on you, after all." He took off your outer robe and threw it to the side of the room, covering her mangled corpse, further shielding the both of you from the sight of her. "And now we have to burn it... Couldn't you have at least worn something disposable?" the entire time, he was walking you over to the sink in order to rinse you of monkey blood.

You just stood there in silence, looking at him like he had now turned into a gorilla.

"What's with the look, darling?" he asked, "isn't it obvious?"

"... no, not really."

"Oh, my precious angel," he said, cradling you to his chest suddenly. "Don't you know that a being as precious as you shouldn't be so close to monkeys like her, much less touching her? I wouldn't want you to get infected with monkey-disease!" He exclaimed, acting like you had stage 4 brain cancer.

"But... aren't you mad at me for killing one of your followers?"

"Mad?" he scoffed, shaking his head at the notion of getting mad at you over getting rid of a monkey. "The only thing I'm mad about, dearest, is the fact that you felt the need to kill her with your own bare hands. You could've asked me to do it; I could've just killed her with a curse and went on my way."

"So, you're upset at me for touching her when you could've done it yourself."

"Bingo! My, you're such a smart girl," he exclaimed, a smiling returning to his features. "You're a sacred treasure, dear, a gift from whatever being sent you to me." He leaned down, nuzzling his nose against your neck in a display of affection. "I'll be damned if any of those monkeys taint you. From now on, if you ever feel the need to kill a monkey, I want you to come directly to me. No stalling or dilly-dallying; if anyone's going to be infected with monkey disease, I'd want it to be me."

"Suguru..." you burst out into laughter, shaking your head in amusement. "You really are something else!"

"I can't help it that I hate those monkeys."

Rყσɱҽɳ Sυƙυɳα

╰┈➤ Your entire life was filled with pity from the moment you were born, and probably to the moment you'd take your last breath, too. From the older courtesans of the pleasure house that you stayed in since your toddlerhood, to the moment you were taken away from them, everyone looked at you with nothing but pity. Even if people looked at you with disgust, they'd still somehow find a way to pity you.

'It's a pity that she has to resort to being such trash; she doesn't belong in a place like this,' one of the pedestrians of the Shibata Pleasure District said when she saw you posing for the pleasure house in which you resided in.

It truly was a pity how beautiful you looked, all dolled up with pins in your hair... only for some disgusting, wretched man to tear them out of your head & force you to do his bidding in one of the many rooms that the house had to offer. And what's worse is that you'd be forced to do the same task over & over again until you were deemed too old or sold off to some Samurai who'd no doubt make you do more disgusting, vile acts for his pleasure.

Every single day was the same. Every single day you'd wake up, get ready for your work (with one of your "sisters" helping you out), pose for the passersby, let them spend a couple hours making you do whatever lewd activities they were in the mood for, then rinse & repeat.

Every day was like dreaded clockwork. The only thing worse than this was homelessness & starvation which was your future if you ran away from the pleasure house.

Every night was spent dreaming over a handsome, noble Samurai who would swoop in and save you from this hellish nightmare. You knew that honorable noblemen were few and far in between--you'd heard the horrid tales of so-called "sorcerers" who did nothing but kill and maim each other--but was a girl not allowed to dream? Was a girl supposed to repeat this cycle without something to hold onto?

Who you didn't expect to be your savior, though, was the most horrid one of them all.

You still remember the look of pity your fellow courtesans gave you when you were taken, by carriage, to the most notorious warlord's compound for his own entertainment.

You still remember the fear in the eyes of the other girls who were chosen to attend this event.

You still remember the impending sense of doom you felt when you arrived at Ryomen Sukuna's estate.

You didn't remember the names of most of the warlords of your time, but the one that stuck out to you was the man who now had the ability to buy you off. Ryomen Sukuna was especially famous for his unabashed, unadulterated methods of killing. According to legend, the four-eyed, four-armed man would tear the heads of his enemies off their bodies & drink their blood like it was green tea. He had a throne of bones, and he was proud of who he was.

According to your sisters, if a concubine upset or made Sukuna mad, he'd kill them & drink their blood, much like how he treated his opponents on the battlefield. He wasn't a forgiving man, and he didn't pity those who showed signs of weakness.

But he'd be damned if he'd ever change his ways. He was Ryomen Sukuna, after all--who did he take orders from? The Emperor? That man should be lucky that he was even allowed to live.

You remembered the way you shook in fear when you saw the warlord for the very first time. He was as terrifying & menacing as the legends described him, but, you weren't allowed to leave or go home; no, you were expected to sing, dance & entertain the people at his party.

Unfortunately for you, when all four of Sukuna's eyes landed on you, you were now expected to directly entertain him.

He remembered the sense of intrigue he felt when he laid his eyes on you. You weren't one of the Oiran that usually served him--you were a mid-ranking courtesan, but to him, you might as well have been the madame herself.

The way you stood so composed despite the overwhelming sense of fear & nervousness that made you slightly tremble with each step you took; the way your kimono so perfectly complimented your appearance; that deliciously naïve and innocent demeanor of yours...

You were like a flower waiting to be plucked and thrown into a pit of debauchery. He'd be damned if any of his ignorant fellows got to do it first--he had to be the one to savor each drop of you.

It was a pity that you were only a mid-ranking courtesan, where had you been all this time? You should've already been made one of his personal concubines.

"That one," Sukuna's deep, rumbling voice said to Uraume, his right-hand person.

"The one in the red and pink kimono?"

"Yes, her. Bring her over to me at once, Uraume." Uraume was probably the only person he ever addressed by name.

"As you wish, Master Sukuna," they said with a bow. They got up from their seat and walked over to you, and now you could feel the dull feeling of fear expanding into a panicked alarm. The other courtesans there knew that Uraume did whatever Sukuna bid of them, so for them to approach you could only mean one thing: Sukuna had requested you.

Again, they all looked at you in pity as Uraume guided you to where the warlord sat.

The next morning, they watched in pity as the madame delivered the news that Sukuna had purchased you and was requesting you at once. Even the Oirans, the unfeeling, unforgiving bunch that they were, couldn't help but pity you in that moment.

"Please.... no, please--you can't let him take me!!" You screeched inside of your room, already in complete fear of what could potentially happen to you.

"It's too late. Lord Sukuna has already bought off your contract, and he's even paid handsomely so--he paid as much as he would've for an Oiran! I'm sorry, (L/N), but you need to go. The deal is already done."

All the fight left your body once she turned to walk away from you, and you felt the hot, silent tears stream down your face. There was no point in fighting when the deal was finalized, right?

The next morning, all of your sisters helped you pack up your belongings. Out of all 20 courtesans who had gone to the estate, you were the only one personally chosen by him. You were the only one who he felt was captivating enough to become one of his concubines, and you felt like the unluckiest girl in the entire world.

You sobbed the entire time you packed your belongings; you sobbed the entire carriage ride there; and you sobbed when his servants unloaded your things.

You had always dreamed of being rescued from this place, so why did it feel like you were being transferred to maximum security?

It might've been your need to please everyone around you and act as a doormat, and it also might've been the fact that you'd been trapped here for so long that you couldn't remember what life was like, but you were actually starting to like being one of Sukuna's concubines.

No... it wasn't either of the aforementioned reasons; it was the fact that when he looked at you, he didn't see pity. For the first time in your life, you weren't pitied for stuff that was beyond your control. All the other estate workers, the generals, and even Sukuna's righthand person, Uraume, they had all looked upon you in pity, pity that this bloodthirsty barbarian of a warlord had chosen you to be his concubine.

Make no mistake--Sukuna wasn't a nice person at all, nor did he treat you with a normal sense of decency, but he didn't look at you as some pitiful creature that needed saving. No; he looked at you and saw what he could turn your pretty face into: his own personal plaything.

Little by little, Sukuna started breaking you in. He had you dressed in the finest of kimonos, had you and the other girls attend Kabuki theatre shows, and put on the grandest of parties just for the fun of it. Though he only had 5 concubines at a time, you 5 were spoiled and fed more than enough to keep yourselves satisfied.

But there was something about you that made him personally notice you. The other 4 concubines were just toys that were kept around because they were able to take what he dished out, girls that he could just interchange with other girls. He made no effort to remember their names, only calling them by different types of flowers. To him, they were literally property, ornaments to be displayed whenever he had guests. Truth be told, that very same treatment and classification was why he was so feared, especially considering the fact that he didn't care about getting rid of property that didn't suit his needs anymore.

For instance, one of the girls, Suzuran, had been caught sleeping with one of his generals. His solution? Cutting off their heads and feeding them to the wolves, and making sure that the four remaining girls watched the entire spectacle so as to remind you that you were all just as disposable as she was. By next week, he had a replacement already lined up to take her place.

You lived those first few months in his grand estate in nothing but fear, making extra sure that you didn't piss him off enough to end up like Suzuran. Sukuna's estate might've been hell, but you didn't actually wanna go to Hell itself.

But when Sukuna started showing you special treatment, that was when you lived your life with less fear.

"(Y/N)," Uraume, Sukuna's righthand person, called out to you when you were in the garden. You were watching the koi fish when you heard the white-haired person say your name, and you immediately stood up. "Master Sukuna requests your presence at once."

This was bad, you thought. Uraume was only ever sent out when things were important, so for them to do this? It could only spell trouble.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded. "Lead me to Master Sukuna."

With you following close behind, Uraume led you all the way to his living quarters on the other side of his palatial estate, your wooden sandals clicking on the floor. The entire time, you were going through the motions of what could possibly happen to you. Maybe you'd slipped up when you dropped your bowl of soup the other day & embarrassed yourself, or maybe he was just tired of your presence and wanted to get rid of you.

It wouldn't be the first time or the last time.

Finally, Uraume knocked on the grand doors of Sukuna's room, and he ordered for the two of you to enter. Funnily enough, you've never actually been inside of his room, due to the fact that he's never once had sex with you or touched you in any sexual manner. He's never personally called for you like this, either--you didn't know why he chose you to be his concubine if you never made any sort of contact with the man.

"Leave," he said simply, telling whichever concubine was in his lap to go, along with Uraume. His four eyes watched the two of them leave, and as the door shut behind you, you felt as though your fate was sealed.

Sukuna's room was nothing short of grand. There was a huge set of armor set up against one of the paper walls, and there were lanterns all over his room. His silk bedsheets were red and pink, and that color scheme was spread throughout the room as well. There was also a huge painting depicting a rather brutal scene of a town being dragged to hell, one that you had to tear your eyes from.

"Come closer, (Y/N)." Now this was an odd request. He only ever referred to the others by their respective flowers, not by their first names (he didn't see any reason for attaching names to his property).

With a few, shaky steps, you made your way towards him. Even on the huge bed that was personally made for him, he still filled up half the mattress, his immense size commanding authority.

"Sit on the bed," he added to which you did. You felt his four eyes take in the sight of your beautiful form in that pink kimono. You were supposed to be the Chrysanthemum of Sukuna's collection, and as such you and your handmaidens dressed in shades of pink and yellow. "Must you avoid looking at me?"

Your eyes shot up when he asked that, and you, again, swallowed the lump in your throat. "A-Apologies, Master Sukuna," you said nervously, the sweat beading down your face.

He didn't say anything, instead reaching out to caress your hair, the long, silky locks like butter to his calloused hands. "All this time spent in my estate, and you still act as though you're a little fawn," he bemused, his finger now moving to your face. He ran one sharp, black fingernail across your cheek, now taking in your face. After some more silence, he asked: "do you know why I chose you to be my Chrysanthemum, (Y/N)?"

"N-No, Master Sukuna, but I assume it was for a wonderful reason," you replied shakily.

"Indeed it was," he hummed, not saying anything else. "Your performance skills. I took a liking to them," he said, now touching your chin with his fingernails.

"You did?"

"None of those other sad sacks of meat can play the Biwa nor dance as well as you do," he replied with a grin. "To me, they're just flowers I can put on display in pretty little vases until they wither and die. Now, answer me this: do you know why I chose you to be my Chrysanthemum?"

You looked at him in confusion, wondering why he put emphasis on the flower, and you furrowed your brow. "Unfortunately, I do not, Master Sukuna."

"It's because..." his finger trailed down to your neck, "chrysanthemums last the longest." His eyes suddenly flickered up to yours. "And I plan on keeping you here for a very, very long time."

The rest of that encounter was spent with you playing the Biwa for a couple hours before he ordered you to go to dinner. Not once did he ask you for a sexual favor, not once did he defile you; he simply wanted to listen to your playing the Biwa.

Perhaps Sukuna wasn't as bad as the stories made him out to be... perhaps, perhaps he was more than just a bloodthirsty barbarian.

He certainly looked at you as more than a mere flower for display.

As the months flew by and the seasons changed, and the girls were replaced as they withered and died, you remained the only constant thing in the estate outside of its employees. Even then, some of the servants were executed and disposed of. When one of the chefs cooked your fish incorrectly, Sukuna had him gutted like one.

Speaking of, the special treatment that Sukuna gave you increased in frequency. He was always giving you the best kimonos out of all the other girls, the hairpins that you received were made out of the shiniest jewels and silver, and the way he looked at you made you feel like the brightest flower in all the garden.

In exchange for his treatment, you were expected to play the Biwa for him whenever he was bored. Sometimes it'd be several hours during the day, other times it'd be for merely an hour. Usually, those were the days he spent planning attacks or wartime efforts.

In all these months of special treatment, he never once had sex or demanded that you perform any favors for him. It was merely the playing of the Biwa that he wanted. Sometimes, he'd even have you dance for him and a few of his generals.

"Lord Sukuna, I hear that you've never once had her in your bed," one of his drunken generals said to the warlord. "If it's not too much to ask, would you mind if I?-"

"Uraume, dispose of this man at once," Sukuna commanded of them, and they did as they were told. They hauled the man out of there and chopped off his arms before feeding him to the wolves.

A small smile cracked on your features when he performed that little act of kindness for you.

The other girls, the jealous flowers that they were, took note of your special treatment as well. They knew their places, and they knew that all they were good for was for decoration and getting him off, and the fact that you were Sukuna's precious little chrysanthemum pissed them off to no end.

It was never more than petty little squabbles or snide comments behind your back, and as a result you never paid them any mind.

Why would you when you're the only one who hasn't been executed in all the months you've spent time at the estate?

Whenever you walked by them beside Sukuna, you couldn't help the sly little smirk that etched itself onto your normally calm face. It felt so good to be envied after being pitied for so much time.

The downside of this inflated ego of yours was the resentment that the other girls harbored towards you. If they were to be executed so quickly and disposed of within mere months of their arrival, then they might as well act on their anger, right?

It was after the arrival of the newest concubine that things took a turn for the worse. The latest addition to his floral collection, the Orchid was a girl who hailed from the very city of Tokyo itself. She was dubbed the Queen of Pleasure, rumored to have serviced the Emperor himself on numerous occasions.

Rumor also had it that Sukuna was highly interested in her and her ways of pleasure. The other girls were also quite irritated by all the time he spent fucking her brains out in his quarters, meaning that not only did they have to compete with your skills of entertaining and playing the Biwa, but they also had to compete with her bedroom skills.

But, when it came down to picking someone to hate on, they still picked you.

"Well, at least it's not her getting every ounce of his attention. I mean, all we'd really have to do is play some kind of instrument, and then we'd be able to one-up her."

It seemed as though any concubine who set foot in Sukuna's estate was destined to hate you, and this Orchid girl was no different. She knew that nobody else derived the same sexual satisfaction from your beloved warlord that she did, and she made sure to rub it in your face. She didn't even refer to you by your flower name; she called you Biwa for the instrument that you played for Sukuna!

Still, you never let it get to you. Just because she was good in bed doesn't mean that she'd become his prized flower that easily; if he found a girl who was better at pleasuring him than she was, she'd no doubt be cast aside and executed.

Being seen as the flower you were and not a piece of meat was more important anyway, right?

But you couldn't help but worry when the staff, themselves, began to gossip amongst one another. Rumors fluttered about that she was going to become the heir to Sukuna's children, the one who would help carry on his bloodline.

When you heard that, you almost snapped the neck of your Biwa off. You had to get a replacement ordered ASAP.

But all hope wasn't lost, for the next time you ran into the Orchid was the last time you'd ever see her.

It was when you were delivering a bowl of soup to Uraume's room that you ran into her. Uraume had fallen ill, and you personally took it upon yourself to look after them in exchange for all the things they'd done for you in the past. She was with her servant, and the smirk on her face when she saw you meant trouble.

"Oh? What is this: the pure and chaste Chrysanthemum carrying a tray of food? Don't tell me you've been demoted to maidservant that quickly," she sneered, blocking your path.

"I'm no maidservant, you barbaric whore; I'm merely delivering some food to Uraume. They've fallen ill recently, and I wanted to show my gratitude by bringing this soup to them," you replied, turning your nose to her. "A brainless wonder like you wouldn't know the meaning of gratitude, anyway."

"How dare you speak so nastily towards me! I should have your head on a platter," she sneered, pointing a finger at you. Her servant also sneered in similar fashion, but the glare you gave her was enough to put her in her place. "My, if I didn't know any better, I'd assumed you were some sort of harlot meant to entertain one of the generals just by the way you speak."

"It's because I can't stand you, you village slut. Everyone knows that the only reason you're here is because you had oral sex with the Emperor, and everyone also knows that you did so by slipping sleeping medication into his tea."

She didn't know how to talk back to that, so she merely scrunched her nose in anger and seethed where she stood.

"Now, if you don't mind me, this soup's getting cold, and Uraume doesn't like their food cold."

Just as you were about to walk away from her, you felt a harsh push from behind, sending you toppling onto the ground, the soup flying out of the bowl and getting all over your kimono.

"Awww, oopsie! You must've slipped and fallen, how terrible!" the Orchid said with a sneer.

The look on your face was nothing short of diabolical and full of vitriol. How dare you be pushed around by sad sacks of meat, whores that got by using their bodies as forms of payment. Come to think of it... maybe this could be some sort of present for Sukuna, like a favor. Sure, she was pretty, but there were plenty of pretty girls who were only good for having sex; you were willing to bet that you could go into a pleasure district and find girls prettier than her. All she was known for was fucking the emperor, and if anyone could find their way into his estate, then it would've been easy for them to take advantage of him as well. It's not like she'd last in this damned estate anyway--the Emperor certainly wasn't Sukuna in any likeness.

Sad sacks of meat didn't have brains, nor did they have talent. They were just fresh meat that would turn rotten and wither away while the bugs and the maggots infested it.

"Maybe I should speed up the execution process," you muttered, grabbing the metal tray with enough force to turn your knuckles white. Just as the girl turned around to face you, you lunged at her with the bowl of soup in your hand, hitting her square in the jaw with the harsh porcelain. She was stunned for a second, allowing you to grab a nearby katana from the wall and unsheathe it. You then reached for the girl and grabbed her by the hair & threw her to the ground, your vision going red as you raised the blade above your head.

"All that meat's good for is cutting, isn't it?" You asked before sinking the blade into her chest. Her eyes widened, the blade falling right into the valley of her bosom. You raised it again & again, stabbing her with the katana as if you were a samurai on the battlefield. Again & again & again, you slashed the living shit out of that bitch, her face fading from your vision as you destroyed her body. By the time you were done with her, her jugular had been torn out & her breasts were hanging on by a thread. You could see the broken ribs protruding from how intensely you splintered them with the cold silver.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the girl's servant who was standing there frozen in fear from the whole ordeal. When your serpentine gaze landed on her, she broke into a run, trying to go get help, so you grabbed the katana and drove it back into her skull. You didn't know what possessed you, but you lifted her up by the head, ramming her face into the walls repeatedly until her skull was fractured and her face was demolished beyond all recognition. You then grabbed the katana again and sunk it bck into her spine, paralyzing her, and she coughed up blood the entire time you stabbed her.

"Sacks of meat... like you... don't deserve to be in Lord Sukuna's presence!!" you shouted, stabbing her until her spinal cord severed. Once you were sure that the two were dead, you stepped back, looking at the dead bodies of the two girls. The servant was slaughtered beyond all recognition, the only giveaway being the color of her kimono, and the tarnished appearance of the Orchid was like a scene painted straight from the battlefield. You made a huge mess in the middle of the hallway, but the murderous side of you didn't give a shit.

You wouldn't let anyone, much less worthless meat be around your Sukuna for as long as you stayed in this estate.

But just as quickly as you'd killed the two girls, you heard a chuckle from behind you. You whipped your head around, seeing none other than Sukuna himself standing there with his arms crossed over his bulky chest. He studied the scene for a few seconds, taking in the red stains on your pink kimono, and he found the color rather fitting of you.

Even though he was a man of carnage, you couldn't help but feel the tiniest hint of fear coursing through your veins. You knew the consequences of acting out of line, and a beheading was probably the best course of action. You had just destroyed his property, and the ramifications of this act of hatred and malice would be devastating to you. You might as well have sunk the katana into your chest and bled out onto the floor right about now.

Getting onto your knees and bowing before his feet, you pleaded with him to show mercy. "Forgive me, master, for I have made a huge mess. Allow me to... allow me to fix it. I humbly beg of you."

Sukuna stood there silently for a few seconds, his red eyes studying your bowing form still.

"Why would you fix it when you have servants at your disposal?"

Now this question made your head perk up in shock and confusion. Was he seriously not about to kill you? Why wasn't he yelling, why wasn't he dragging you out by the hair to end your life himself?

"Master, I... I don't understand. I laid a hand on your property, and that's unacceptable-"

"Would you be quiet already?" he asked, making you bow your head again in fear. "I must say, (Y/N), I didn't know you had such an act within that pretty head of yours," he remarked, still looking at the dead bodies. "Perhaps you're not so innocent after all. Rise, (Y/N)."

You did as you were told, raising your head to see him. He crouched down to your level, one of his big hands caressing your blood soaked face and your hair as well.

"Just look at you, a little pink Chrysanthemum stained red by the blood of her foes. Quite a fearsome look, (Y/N)," he hummed, still looking at you. Suddenly, a wide grin spread on his face, one that could only spell both trouble and excitement for you.

He had broken you at long last. After so many months of waiting for you to show your true side, to show that you could stand alongside Sukuna, you had finally shown your true potential. Your innocent, pitiful self had been cracked, and in its place stood a dark, evil thing that he couldn't get enough of.

Maybe now he could finally make you his bride, his queen of the dead & the future matriarch of the Sukuna clan.

"How would you like to be my Spider Lily? It's been a while since I've had one."

I suck at writing Sukuna omfg (I hate his ass regardless) also it's not proofread 🤞 I MIGHTTT do a Choso special but IDK how to write him either

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 7/18/2024

[anxious-witch]

On Charles, Edwin and Crystal's relationship with violence and how it does(and doesn't) solve their peoblems, and the inherit privledge of considering non-violence can always be the answer.

Before I get to it, sorry I cannot for the life of me find the post that talked about DBDA's relationship to violence aka that it shows that there is always a better solution and how most of the problems are solved through other means. It is a really good post, so if anyone knows it, please send me the link so I can put it here.

Anyway. What I wanted to say is that while yes, I partially agree, I don't think that's quite correct. Or not always. The series definitely makes a point of saying that things should be solved by other means whenever possible, but I think we see 3 instances where that isn't true. The first meeting with The Night Nurse and Charles, Crystal meeting David in the woods, and in part, Charles getting Edwin out of Hell.

Before I get to breaking down how each one was necessary, I think what kind of bothers me is the reaction Edwin and Crystal have to Charles attacking the Night Nurse. Not so much the inital reaction because I understand that they both have trauma connected to violence, but them insisting his reaction was extreme slightly...irks me?

I understand it from Crystal-she had a lot on her plate in the past few weeks and she just got out of abusive rs. Not to mention, she doesn't know Charles and Edwin for that long. But Edwin? My god did I wanna shake him.

Like, don't get me wrong, I love Edwin to death and the fact that he is flawed is part of that but I wish it was acknowledged that his disregard for self defense and to be able to not only refuse violence, but in many cases when Charles steps in to protect him to not even move aside because he knows Charles is there for what it is-a privledge. The fact that he never had ti physically defend himself ever since he got out of Hell is a privledge because Charles does it. And to no small personal cost. I don't think Charles likes to be violent. He doesn't revel in it, and we actually see him break down several times over thinking he is a bad person because he uses violence to defend himself and his friends.

Does he sometimes use it impulsively? Yes, as seen in the episode with the Devlins'. And he pays dearly for hi error, being stuck in a loop that's directly related to his own trauma.

But in some situations, there was no other answer. The Night Nurse would have made him and Edwin relieve their trauma until they gave in. Crystal couldn't help and in that moment, neither could Niko. Charles' violence gave them more time, which gave Edwin and then Niko, more time to think of a peaceful solution. Of a bargain. But it would not have been possible without Charles kicking her off the cliff.

For the scene with David in the woods-yeah, sure he didn't solve the whole problem of David altogether, but he did A) male him fuck off for the forseeable future and B) helped Crystal feel safer due to the fact he defended her when she was powerless. With the violence, he gives her time to gain her powers back, to come and resolve it directly when she feels safe and confident enough to do so.

We see it once again when he goes to save Edwin in Hell. Yes, they get out of Hell by running, but when Charles initally suggests it, Edwin is terrified. "If I run it chases me," he says and he doesn't move. So what does Charles do? He throws a bomb at the Dollhead Spider. Which once again, gives them time to run and escape and perhaps more importantly makes Edwin feel safe.

Violence is considered bad for a reason. But I think who and why someone uses violence is very important. A bully throwing a hit for fun and a victim throwing one back to defend themselves aren't the same. They cannot be the same. And bullies, no matter the form they take, sometimes only understand violence.

I am not saying go ahead and kill someone for bullying you. But I am saying that sometimes, the teachers don't listen until you throw a punch back. Problems should always be tried to solved peacefully, but if you think every problem can be solved non-violently, I think you had the privledge to never have to do so.

Charles takes on the burden of being a protector, of using violence as means of protection and I really hope that's acknowledged at some point. Because while yes, Edwin obviously has his own talents, Charles does his job at a great personal cost. And sometimes, while violence cannot solve the root of the problem, it can give you more time and space to get to the root. And that's okay, as long as you don't lose sight of why are you using measures you are using.

[rockyp77mk3]

How can you be so proud of a country that has so much evil in it's history. Read a book bootlicker.

Interesting question. For the record I actually read quite a few books, and I have no inclination to lick a boot.

Now, let me ask you a question or several. Are you perfect, without flaw or occasional selfish or petty motivations? Since you are human I will assume that the answer is, no. Since the date of your birth have you not grown, have you not learned better behavior and empathy? In your most secret heart are there not some things that you feel bad about doing, things that cause you shame, things that you really don't want others to discover? Since you are human the answer to that question is, yes. Now, do you want to be judged by those terrible things alone and have all the good you've done ignored? No, you do not. You don't want that because those bad things are not the totality of your being.

Just like no person, no country comes into existence in the full bloom of its potential. There are struggles, mistakes, and failings along the way to growth. In today's world there are those, like yourself who seek to view the nation only by the bad and actively ignore the good mainly to promote an agenda.

Some say the country is catastrophically flawed from its inception. I say they are wrong. I believe that the concept of this country is damn good but since people constitute the nation there have been errors along the way but incrementally we have moved closer and closer to the promise of the Founding Fathers.

In the history of the world there has never been a nation that has amassed so much power and so much wealth that has misused it so little. Consider WWII. At the end of that conflict we and our UK and Commonwealth allies could have taken the World, we had the troops, sea power and even the "Bomb", but it didn't even occur to us. Instead we rebuilt our former enemies and helped to feed and fix the war ravaged areas. It was our own nation that tore itself apart and saw the deaths of 620,000 of our own sons to end the curse of slavery. There are other examples but you get the idea. So, please give the US some credit for the good.

[impybutt]

Sezak had never seen a leather jacket before. What cause would someone ever have to wear another's skin? It struck him as alarming, to say the least.

Exposure risk wasn't something he or many others ever considered: His people were designed for efficiency, just like the rest of the spacefaring races. Or, that's what he assumed. It's common knowledge, isn't it?

Genome mapping is just the norm, and entire civilisations have been curated from raw materials, Sezak's included. It's far more energy and resource efficient than terraforming, in any case. That's what it takes to reach the stars: curated efficiency.

No one ever did it just by trial-and-error, did they?

But here was Suri, a Human, wearing the skin of... what did she call it? Some other kind of mammal, he forgot the name. Something absurdly simple. Anyway, apparently this is just normal for Humans!

"But why?" Sezak asked, incredulous. "What's the point?"

"Well, these days thanks to climate control and artificial atmosphere, it's mostly a style thing. But you know, early humans back on earth, why would you just leave a perfectly good skin to rot when you could wear it for protection?"

"Protection from what!? Under what circumstance are you finding an unused skin?? Wait-- is this another religious thing? I've heard that Humans have a lot of those, and they don't always make sense from the outside."

Suri looked confused (or constipated? Human faces are deceptively complex, it takes a long time to learn how to read them), and seemed to be studying Sezak for a moment. Her eyes darted over his synthetic clothing briefly, with its cultural flairs and decorative adornments, all carrying the signature texture of replicated matter.

Then, with sudden clarity, "Oh! Humans weren't curated, mostly we're organic."

Well, that's just absurd.

Sezak muffled his involuntary 'kek-kek' with a quick apology, covering his mandibles.

"Pardon me, that means your entire lineage came from raw evolution. That takes billions of years, I find it very unlikely."

"Yeah," Suri was nonplussed. "The leather is a throwback to when our ancestors had to survive in the wild. We hunted our meat, then used what was left for tools and clothing. It's actually a pretty proud part of our history; Earth was habitable, but definitely not easy."

Now it was Sezak's turn to look constipated, which never happened because his people weren't curated with such a terrible design flaw.

"So humans just bumbled their way into space on their own, like a larva figuring out how to fly? All... clumsy and inelegant, and... Messy? Without any outside help? Without any climate-matching!? Is that why you have those absurd suits!?"

"Yeah, it's also why our bodies just malfunction in weird ways for no obvious reason," Suri looked a little too amused at Sezak's undisguised horror - not that Humans are essentially raw nebula mobilised by a star's age of convenient mutations, but that they exist in such a state of volatility with no apparent qualms about it.

"Oh great wells," Sezak breathed, reeling from his new perspective. "So many of you wear leather. Hold on, is that why Vikram is always visiting the health centre?"

Suri's eyes crinkled, and she bared her teeth -- in a laugh, okay. Sezak recognised the 'kek-kek' noise humans make in thrill, though theirs is a more glottal 'hach-hach'.

"Yes, Vikram has auto-immune issues. Which means that sometimes, his immune system will attack his own body depending on the irritant. Or weather. Or his cortisol levels."

Sezak stared at Suri for a long time, trying to figure out if she was pranking him.

"I think I have a lot of reading to do," he muttered, incredulous.

"Start with the human eye, it's an absolute mess. Do you know how little it takes to detach a human retina?"

"WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS"