#to be understood? in a world that wants to kill you because it doesn’t understand you? and this guy pulls you up from the grass and you

[rozecrest]

kevin is a born romantic like the way chiron FALLS back into his bed after he calls him because a man who looked like him played a love song on a jukebox and chiron is immediately having erotic dreams about him bathed in yellow light again

[yinyuedijun]

translation

Aventurine doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you. (Or: You are the only person in the universe who understands Aventurine in his mother tongue. He often regrets teaching it to you.)

5k words. gender neutral reader, established relationship, angst, non-graphic sex (reader bottoms, anatomy neutral), themes of cultural loss, references to slavery, aventurine’s canonically implied desire to die. MDNI.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

Deception does not come easily to him in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak—and too kind. The universe was a different place in the days when his life was coloured by the warble of Avgin dialect. It felt simpler, partly because he was a child and partly because Sigonia was yet untouched by outsiders. There were no corporations, no casinos, no commodity codes. His entire world was sand, desert, mother, sister, father (or more often—ghost), goddess, tent, wagon, luck, sin, rain, blessing, Avgin.

Katican.

Aventurine is sure that he knew more than just those words. He was fluent as a child. He had conversations with his sister that were complex enough to make his heart hurt, though perhaps his heart was just constantly aching anyway. But the rest of his early words escapes him. He could maybe dredge them up if he thinks long enough, but he also isn't sure if his tongue and lips could form the shape of them anymore. Sometimes he still counts in Avgin, memorises phone numbers in it, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually strung together a full sentence in the language.

When Aventurine was first stolen into slavery (a word that he had not known as a child, and still doesn't know in Avgin), he wasn’t given a Synesthesia Beacon. He had to rely on his ears and his wits, deciphering the harsh edges of the Katican dialect and then the strange garble of Interastral Standard Language. By the time he had a Beacon installed, it was already translating all speech into Standard—his dominant language.

Sometimes he feels a little aggrieved by it, but at least it wasn't Katican. He'd have blown out his brains if it were.

But it is easy to console himself: Avgin is not a useful language anyway. Dead languages have no value, and the Avgin dialect was killed along with its people. You can’t perform commerce in a dead language, can't negotiate contracts, can't enter a gambling den and use your silver tongue to rob people blind. You can't use a dead language to fell governments and extract resources; you can't use a dead language to bring an entire planet to its knees. You can’t use a dead language to gamble your life; you can't use it to save yourself from the gallows.

You cannot deceive people in a language that is defined by sand, sister, goddess, ghost.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin. His command of it is too weak, and there is no one left to which he can lie, anyway.

When you ask Aventurine to teach you his first language, he gives you an amused look.

“Why Avgin?” he asks. “No one speaks it anymore. I can teach you Common Sigonian if you’d like. Or we could learn Xianzhounese together. Maybe Intellitron code? I know a little.”

“You speak Avgin,” you argue.

“Not often,” he says. “And badly when I do.”

“But it's still your language. And I want to understand you.”

Aventurine has to stop himself from laughing. Understand him? He hates being understood. When people understand him, it makes him predictable. And unlikeable. Hardly a position from which he can manipulate people in.

You understand him well enough to know that.

“You'll have to give me a better reason than that,” he says neatly. “Make it worth my while. Reward me.”

You look at him as you ponder, your eyes lingering on his. Perhaps trying to read him, though he prefers to think you're just enjoying the sight of them.

“I’ll teach you my language as well?”

“You mean—you'll reward my hard labour with more work?” he says, lighthearted.

You frown at him despite the joke. “You don't want to understand me better than what a Synesthesia Beacon would allow?” He blinks, pausing. “It’ll be convenient too. We can talk shit about other people in public and no one will understand us.”

Aventurine considers you. He doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you.

He also likes the idea of talking shit in public.

“I'm listening,” he says, voice lilting. You lean in, smiling. Sweet. It makes his heart feel something he isn't used to. Something addictive. Something disgusting. He scrambles to cover it with one of the usual tools: humour or distraction or maybe just plain old lying—his most reliable weapon.

“I'll throw in a kiss?” you try.

He hums. “Just one?”

“One per day.”

“Three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Well, I am a businessman.”

You snort, but he knows you're endeared. You have very noticeable tells when you’re flustered.

“Okay,” you say. “Three kisses on days you teach me.”

“Deal.”

Aventurine remembers more Avgin than he thought he would.

It comes to him slowly, painstakingly. You aren't interested in structured lessons, and he wouldn't be able to provide them anyway. He has a nonexistent grasp of grammar aside from this sounds right and that sounds strange, and Avgin dialect is both so niche and so dead that no textbooks are available. The scholars have abandoned the language as much as the politicians abandoned its people. Aventurine only has you, his fragmented memory, and whatever questions come to mind as you live out your days with him.

Mostly, you ask him about basic vocabulary. Sometimes you ask him to repeat sentences from your conversations in Avgin, like he’s some kind of multilingual parrot. Each prompt forces him to wade through the fog in his mind, the one that’s been shrouding his childhood memories until now. He's startled at how naturally the old words roll off his tongue: One, two, three, four. Good morning. Good evening. Good night. Sweet dreams. Five, six, seven, eight. You're lying to me. Why do you always lie to me? I don't know what you're talking about. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Welcome home. Have you eaten? Have some bread. I made you stew. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. That was dangerous. I thought you wouldn't make it back to me. Sometimes I think you want to die. One hundred, one thousand, one million, one billion. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

When you say, How do I ask you to let me hold you, he answers easily. He'd heard the words so often as a child: Let me hold you, Kakavasha. Let Mama hold you. His mouth forms the sounds without conscious thought.

He regrets it almost immediately.

When Aventurine hears it from you—stilted, halting, but no less gentle—he stops breathing. Let me hold you. You say it all the time in Standard, but it feels different in Avgin. More painful. A strange sense of panic closes in on him when he's wrapped up in you, thinking in Avgin, thinking sand, sister, goddess, ghost. He holds you tightly, like the rags cut from his father’s shirt, or his mother’s locket won back from the shell-slashers, or a bag of poker chips beneath a card table, clutched within his trembling grip.

“Aventurine, is something wrong?” you ask in Avgin, and he replies in Standard with his usual smile.

“Hm? No. What could be wrong if I have you here?”

Lying is one of his greatest tools. Sex is another one. So he says, “I think I'd like my reward now,” and he runs his lips along your jaw, your pulse, the spot over your heart (there's a word for that in Avgin but not Standard, he tells you), until you're laughing. I thought you wanted three kisses, you tease, and he replies, Who said I wanted to kiss you on the mouth?

But he coaxes open your thighs, and once he's inside you, he collects his payment properly. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and you swallow his lies whole.

There are some things that Aventurine doesn't teach you. Mostly, they’re things that he can’t teach you.

There are countless gaps in his Avgin. His speech is painfully childish—probably more childish than it was when he actually stopped speaking it. He doesn't know how to swear (something that disappoints you) and he doesn't know how to flirt (something that devastates you). He doesn’t know any words that would be useful for work either: commercialization, governance, stakes, winnings, profit. When you ask him what his job title is in Avgin (“Was senior management even a thing in Avgin society?”), he laughs and gives you the word for gambler.

Then there are the words that he remembers—has remembered his whole life—but never says. Not to you, and not to himself. He doesn't teach you any prayers. He doesn't teach you any blessings. He doesn't teach you about Mama Fenge, or the Kakava Festival, or how the rain fell when he was born. When you ask him, What holidays did you celebrate when you were little? he shrugs and says, We didn't have any. Sigonia’s too bleak to do any partying.

Then you ask him one day, while your bodies are spent in the afterglow of sex, sticky with sweat and sweetness, how to say I love you. And he goes quiet.

Love is a cheap word in Interastral Standard. In the language of globalisation and trade, love has been commercialised, commodified, capitalised for power. You say it to him in many contexts: I love this, I love that, I love you. He hardly ever reacts, and he's never said it back. It would feel unnecessary and also cruel if he did: Aventurine has only ever said the words himself as either a joke or a manipulation.

But love feels different in Avgin than in Interastral Standard, doesn't sound like a thing that can be traded or bought. Kakavasha only ever said the word love to his mother, to his sister, to his father's grave. Love in his mother tongue feels priceless.

When Aventurine thinks about you saying it—I love you, Kakavasha, in clumsy, earnest Avgin—something so painful swells in his throat that he can hardly breathe.

“There is no word for love in my language,” he tells you.

You blink. “Okay, then what's an idiom for it?”

“There is none. There’s no word or phrase expressing love.”

You raise a brow. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Is it?” He smiles. “There’s no Avgin in the known universe who cares about love. Only scheming, thieving, and treachery—and you can't do those things when love is involved.”

You look at him in alarm. “Why are you saying that?” You're practically squirming in your discomfort. “I don't know why you think I'd believe such a racist stereotype.”

“It’s not a stereotype,” he says. “I'm not talking about the Avgin culture. I'm talking about myself.”

After all, he is the only Avgin left.

It is an unfair thing to say. A cruel thing to say. After all the laughing and kissing and crying and fucking, after all the tender eyes and gentle words from you—it is probably the worst pain imaginable: I don't give a shit about you. He waits for you to cry.

But you only stare at him calmly, studying him. You brush the hair out of his eyes, seeing them clearly.

“If you lie to me all the time,” you say in Avgin, “eventually I'll stop believing anything you say.”

Aventurine is speechless. His heart does that addictive, disgusting thing again. He thinks about leaving, but then you say, Let me hold you, and he can't do anything other than obey.

Avgin dialect was once included in the Synesthesia Beacon list of functions. The Intelligentsia Guild added it before the Second Katica-Avgin Extinction Event, when the IPC was trying to get a political foothold on Sigonia via the Avgin people. The language was alive then, with enough value to be included into the Synesthesia LLM by the linguists.

But since the Extinction Event—since Kakavasha ran away from home—the Synesthesia data on Avgin has been stagnant, a fossil. Aventurine knows because he's subscribed to software updates for certain languages (Avgin Sigonian, Common Sigonian, Interastral Standard, and now your mother tongue). He gets pinged every time there's a new addition for slang, for neologisms—but there hasn't been a ping for the Avgin dialect since he had the Beacon installed. The live translation function hasn't even been available since the previous Amber Era. When he checks its page on his Synesthesia app, it's very clear why—

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 0 STATUS: Extinct END OF SERVICE: 2156 AE

The complete death of the language has led to an irritating dilemma for you and Aventurine. You keep running into words that he doesn't know—this time not because of his childlike speech, but because they never existed in his language to begin with. Ocean, tropical, rainforest. Starskiff, accelerator, space fleet. Stock market, shortselling, mutual funds. Black hole, event horizon, spaghettification. All things that never came up for Kakavasha, but now come up for Aventurine, and the language has not evolved to include it.

He always wants to switch to Standard to discuss these things, but you're insistent on speaking in Avgin as much as possible. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't mind humouring you—partly because he likes to indulge you, and partly because he’s grown used to hearing the honeyed timbre of Avgin dialect in your household. The place would feel strange without it.

So you start filling the gaps with other languages, filtering them through the lyricism of Avgin. Loanwords, he thinks they’re called. You take ocean, tropical, rainforest from Amazian; starskiff, accelerator, space fleet from Xianzhounese; stock market, shortselling, mutual funds from Interastral Standard. For the astrophysics terms, you try directly translating them—with limited success.

“Can't I literally just say ‘black hole’?” you ask in Avgin, and he nearly spits out his coffee.

“Please don't. That's a dirty word.” He can't bring himself to say what it means, but from the way you’re laughing, you can clearly guess.

“I thought you said you didn't know how to swear.”

“You've just reminded me how.”

“You're welcome.” You look on the verge of cackling. Aventurine finishes his coffee and wonders when you're going to surprise him with your newfound vulgarity.

“Let's just do the space terms based on Standard,” he says. Begs.

“No, that's so boring.”

“Then let's do your language.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Give him a blank look.

“You don't know how to say those words in your mother tongue either, do you,” he intuits.

“Well, ‘spaghettification’ doesn't really come up in everyday conversation, does it?”

“Then maybe we don't need it.” He smiles, senses an opportunity. Smells blood. “How about ‘love’? I'd much rather know how you say that. I bet it sounds beautiful.”

You give him a long look. Your eyes are vulnerable when you share it: Love. I love you. He’s fascinated by the sound of it. Your voice is never that fragile when you say it in Standard. It's never so earnest. He repeats it, staring at you, and your gaze falls to the ground. His mouth curls.

“I like it,” he says. “Let's use that. It'll sound nice in Avgin.”

You try to recover. “Sure. That works. But back to ‘black hole’—”

And the two of you continue like that for days, weeks, months. It feels like a complete bastardization of his mother tongue on some days, in some conversations. Almost unrecognisable. But it doesn't feel bad. It’s all he has, it's all you have, and when he walks into your home, he starts speaking it without thinking: your bastard, patchwork language. The Avgin dialect that exists only in your house. A tongue that can only be understood by a liar.

And then, one lazy Sunday morning, he gets a familiar ping. He expects it to be Interastral Standard, as usual. The language balloons with each planet that the IPC colonises.

But instead, he opens his screen and freezes.

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 2 STATUS: Endangered. SERVICE RESUMED: 2157 AE NEW UPDATES: 103 loanwords and 5 neologisms added.

He can't stop looking at the status. Endangered. Endangered, which means dying, but alive. The Avgin dialect is alive again. The Intelligentsia Guild determined it, so it must be true. But Aventurine can't agree: there are no Avgin speakers in the known universe other than the two of you, and what you speak isn't real Avgin. The Avgin spoken by his mother and father and sister is dead; the Avgin spoken by Kakavasha is dead. The festivals are gone; the deserts have been terraformed. There are no wagons; there are no dances; there are no prayers. There are no blessings, and he has no home—

As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.

His throat locks up.

“Aventurine?” you ask. Your voice is drowsy, but concerned. “Is something wrong?”

He looks at you from his phone, a polished smile on his face.

“No.” His syllables are plain and efficient in the noise of Interastral Standard: “Just looking at details for a new assignment. It’ll be a long one.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Will you be away from home for a long time, then?”

He stops himself from swallowing. “Yes, I'll be away from the house. For several months, probably.”

“Okay.” Your voice is small. “Take care of yourself, okay? I'll miss you.”

Each word you speak resonates with heartbreak. It always does in these conversations, even in Standard—but the sorrow is amplified in Avgin. His mother tongue has an inherently sad quality to it, he's noticed. His people have lost so much over their history—their language is one of loss. It's his language of loss. Kakavasha did all his grieving in Avgin; Aventurine has never felt sorrow in Standard. When the language died, so did Kakavasha—and all his regrets with it.

“You'll come home to me, right?” you ask. It's a beautiful sentence in Avgin. A heartrending one. He feels something that he hasn't known since he was a child.

It's a feeling he has to kill.

“Yes,” he says in Standard. “Of course I'll come back.”

This is not the first time that Aventurine has been mistaken for dead, but this is the longest time.

The latest world to join the IPC network was a tough acquisition. It had been ruled by a despot who wreaked havoc on both the people and the planet, and who was too stupid and reckless to resolve conflicts with his trade partners. He probably would have blown up the whole star system had he been left to his own devices. Aventurine had no qualms about bringing him to ruin, nor did he have qualms about nearly dying in the process.

If things had gone his way, he'd either be dead or missing. This would have been the perfect opportunity to do the latter, actually—to be freed from the IPC. Free to drift alone, speaking with strangers in strange, unfamiliar tongues. No connection to his past, to the cruel history of his luck, to his commodity code. No tether to his inherently unjust destiny. But instead he's back in your house, pockets heavy with his borrowed wealth, speaking to you in his bastardised, childish Avgin. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Your Avgin is—shockingly fluent. He doesn't know how. He can't think about it right now. All he can process is the wounded animal noise of your speech as you yell at him, as you cry. Like an injured songbird, or a weeping child. Why did you leave, why did you lie, why do you always lie to me, why don't you give a shit about me, you spit. Why do you want to die, why do you want to die, why do you want to die, you keep saying. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost, he keeps hearing. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost. Don't leave me, big sister. People will die. Why do you have to go?

“I’m sorry,” he tries again, this time in your language. “I'm so sorry. Come here. Let me hold you.”

You collapse into your mother tongue. Aventurine is both relieved and horrified. Relieved that he doesn't need to hear the language of his grief—horrified that he needs to hear yours. He's never heard you cry like this. He's never heard you break like this. These must have been the words you used when the soldiers found you hiding in your closet, when they dragged you out of your home. You were just a child.

Aventurine doesn't know the words you are using—you've never taught them—but he still understands them.

You're very malleable when you’re sad; even more so when you're hysterical. Aventurine understands this about you, and he understands how to calm you—this time in your native tongue—and he understands how to kiss you. He understands that you need to feel close to him. He understands that there are ways to accomplish this other than sex. A normal person would talk it out, have an honest conversation, come to a mutual understanding, and maybe even stop trying to kill himself. They wouldn't fuck you into the mattress while your face is still wet with tears.

But Aventurine is not a normal person. He doesn't know how to have an honest conversation, and he doesn't want to be understood. Lying is his greatest weapon, and sex is a close second. So he kisses you until you’re too breathless to cry, fucks you until you can't think, and makes you come so hard that you’re in too much bliss to grieve. And maybe it's horrible of him, but he enjoys it. He enjoys the way your body takes him in so easily, the way your nails dig into his back, the way you tighten around him when you climax, so wet and needy for him. The way you beg for him in your language for liars as he spends himself inside you: I love you, Aventurine, I love you, I love you, I love you—

Only because it feels good. This is all only because he enjoys fucking you. This is all only because you enjoy fucking him. This is all it'll ever be, and it'll be this way until he gets to meet his end.

(Some months ago, Aventurine started dreaming in Avgin.

It surprised him when he first noticed it. The last time he remembers having a dream in his native tongue, he was twelve years old and still in chains. And even then, it had become a sporadic, strange thing. Awful to wake up from. One minute he was with his mother and sister on a cool, rainy day, speaking fluently in Avgin as he laughed and played—and the next minute, he was being shaken awake in his cage, hearing the cruel lash of Katican.

But ever since he's started speaking Avgin with you, he's been dreaming in it. Vividly. Sometimes he's a child in these dreams, and sometimes he's grown. He's always back in the Sigonian desert, among the tents and the campfires and his family wagons. His mother and sister are alive. Sometimes his father is too. The skies roar with thunder and the stellar winds are always harsh, but they always keep him cocooned up in their arms. He's always warm.

Sometimes Aventurine dreams of nicer days. Clear skies, warm sun, cool breeze—all blessings from the Mother Goddess. On these days, he tends to be an adult, and you tend to be there with him. Your Avgin is fluent but strange, filled with funny loanwords and peculiar slang. His father likes the neologisms and starts using them—but only in wrong ways. His sister finds it embarrassing and keeps apologising to you.

His mother loves you. She loves you so much it hurts. This is how I know you're blessed, Kakavasha, she says, glowing. You’re so lucky to have found such a kind person.

Kakavasha knows this. He knows he's lucky, and in his dreams, that isn't a bad thing. In his dreams, his luck means that his home is not violently excised from his heart: his father never dies; his mother never dies; his sister never dies. The tents are not burned; the wagons are not destroyed. He is never forced to forget his people's dishes, their songs, their language, their joy. And in his dreams, his luck means that he meets you anyway, without all the loss and the chains and the lying.

In his dreams, he is able to bring you to the desert. He is able to teach you the Avgin he spoke as a child, to cook all the meals his mother used to make, to share with you their coffee and their tea. He teaches you prayers. He teaches you blessings. He tells you about Mama Fenge, about how the rain fell when he was born. He takes you to the Kakava Festival, shows you how to dance, sings to you all the Avgin songs until you're singing back. He presses his palm to yours in prayer; he kisses you in devotion, not avoidance.

Sometimes the two of you still fight, the same fights that you have in real life, but he handles them with honesty. He listens to you. He apologises to you. He tells you that he’ll change, and he means it—because this world is a kind one, and he has no need to be so cruel to you.

In this kind world, when you lay in bed with his arms tight around you, you smile at him and say, I love you, Kakavasha. You say it in Avgin—real Avgin, not the dialect born from genocide and deceit—and when he responds, there's not even a little bit of insincerity in his voice. Because Kakavasha never became Aventurine in these dreams, so he has no Interastral Standard in which he can lie to you, no silver tongue with which he can manipulate you, no commodity code that inspires his fear of being controlled by you. Kakavasha only knows Avgin, and he only has his sand, his family, his goddess, his home.

And he has you. Finally, he has you.

He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and then he tells you the truth.)

.

.

.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

You noticed this very early on: whenever he lies to you, he always switches to Interastral Standard. Probably he wouldn't be able to do it in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak, and the words he knows are all too kind. He speaks with the innocence of a child, and children cannot deceive people in the way that adults can. Children cannot perform commerce or negotiate contracts. They cannot use a silver tongue to rob people blind. They cannot save themselves from the gallows.

So Aventurine’s Avgin is defenceless. Vulnerable. So vulnerable it hurts. You are not so vulnerable in your first language because your captors spoke it on occasion, and you learned to lie in it to gain their pity. You told Aventurine that knowing it would help him understand you, but this was a deception. Aventurine’s mother tongue was a language of trust, but yours is a dialect of abuse.

The Avgin language died before Aventurine could be gutted by it; this is why it disarms him so completely. This is why he’s so indulgent and so warm when you use it with him, why he yields to all your requests. Not requests for money or gifts—you’re certain those are meaningless to him—but for affection. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. Let me kiss you. He can never say no.

This is also why he loves hearing you speak his mother tongue, you think—it makes him feel at home, it makes him feel safe. Maybe it even makes him feel loved. He never seems so at peace speaking any other language, so you try to use Avgin as much as possible. You like seeing him happy. You like it even if it means you need to teach him your own native language in exchange, even when it means you need to hear him say all the things your captors used to say. You don't mind it if it's him. You never mind the harm he inflicts on you, especially not when it brings you closer to him.

It is convenient that he cannot lie in Avgin. You only wanted to learn it in the first place because he talks in his sleep—mostly in Standard, but sometimes in his native tongue. And now that you know he cannot lie in Avgin, you also know he's always being honest in his dreams. Honest when he throws his arms around you in his sleep. Honest when he grabs you so tightly that you bruise. Honest when he buries his face into your neck and whispers prayers into your skin.

Most of the words he says are common ones, the earliest vocabulary that he taught you. But there are some things he's withheld from you—and to learn those things, you had to track down linguists from the Intelligentsia Guild, bribe them with your dirty money, have them give you all their deprecated, extinct data. It felt two-faced, and it was violating, but it was the only way. You already know that Aventurine would rather die than translate his feelings for you, would never want this part of himself understood.

I'm sorry for always leaving you.

I'm sorry for making you cry.

I can't bear the thought of losing you.

Freedom would be too lonely without you.

I don't want to hurt you anymore.

I don't want to lie to you anymore.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

end

afterword

[doctor-donnaa]

People have said many times how Fourteenth Doctor is so much more open with feelings and emotions than Ten. But it is especially huge when it comes to Donna specifically. Ten was so reserved and held back so much when it came to expressing feelings and voicing them, that his companions never fully understood how much they meant to him. Ten was very flawed and very HUMAN and while he had so much love in him, he was equally afraid to express it, show it unabashedly. Did Donna ever truly understand how much he loved her? Did he ever tell her how much she meant to him on screen? When Ten knew he was losing Donna, and she was about to disappear in front of him, he knew this was his last moment with her, and the best he could do while she was conscious is hold her at arm’s length and tell her “We had the best of times”. You could see he was dying inside and this moment is killing him but he NEVER SHOWS it to her. While it’s all in his eyes, Ten still doesn’t tell her anything that would have an emotional weight or reveal the whole depth of his feelings.

Ten kept all his feelings bottled so deep inside, that when they finally started to bleed out, he made the worst mistakes possible. It ended up killing him. And the breaking point was losing Donna. He carried so much guilt over the way he lost her and the way he let her, his best friend in the whole wide universe, down, that it echoed over to the next regenerations, in Eleven’s guilt and Twelve’s face. That scene in the TARDIS in “Let’s Kill Hitler” where Eleven is poisoned, and the TARDIS is showing him images of former companions when Eleven asks “Give me guilt”. The TARDIS shows him Martha first, and there is so much to be guilty about when it comes to Martha, and then Eleven asks for “also guilt”, and the TARDIS shows him Donna, and when Eleven asks for “more guilt”, the image doesn’t change. It is still Donna, TARDIS is showing Eleven the best friend who got let down so hard by the Doctor. And the Doctor still carries that guilt and regret and heartbreak with him, because he loved his best friend and her attachment to him almost got her killed and hurt her in the worst way possible. “Stand too close, and people get burnt”, just like Martha said.

Fourteen though. He is a completely different person. He doesn’t just love Donna, he ADORES her, he is here FOR HER, this face is here BECAUSE OF HER. He tells a complete stranger he just met that he loves his best friend Donna, and repeats it twice.

When Donna honestly asks who would care about her 'cause she thinks she is just no one, Fourteen angrily  cries “I DO!”  because that’s his brilliant and amazing best friend who after all these years still thinks so little of herself and he hadn’t been there to remind her of that, and it is all his fault that she doesn’t remember how fantastic and special and extraordinary she has always been and how many times her brilliance saved worlds and lives, including the Doctor’s.

Fourteen is crying and screaming and breaking down, when he thinks Donna is about to die in front of him, all because he is so afraid of losing her again. Fourteen cradles Donna’s body and cries when he thinks he had lost her and tells the Meep’s soldiers to kill him, because he doesn’t care anymore, because someone he loves so dearly is dead in his arms, and it is all his fault.

When Donna gets her memories back, Fourteen almost immediately confesses how losing her KILLED HIM and how he remembers every second with her. He tearfully confesses that he has missed her for all those years they were apart, it’s been millions of years they spent apart for the Doctor. All those years the Doctor needed Donna who would make him laugh again, Donna who would keep him grounded, Donna who would call him spaceman and silently hug him when he needed it the most, Donna who would understand and be there and be his touchstone and anchor and guiding light.

Fourteen knows that she can’t stay with him forever like she used to want to, but he still gives her both of his hearts and tells her how much he cherishes their time together. He offers her coffee just the way she likes it, he remembers such small details about her after literally thousands, millions of years! And he shows it to her. Fourteen is so full of love and he is not afraid to show it, he is rushing to love, to express it before Donna is gone from his life again. And he is trying to make up for all those years as Ten when he couldn’t say these things to Donna, and she never knew just how much she meant to him. Donna never knew that she was his soulmate, that her presence made such an impact and her absence led to Ten’s death and that he died saving her grandad.

Fourteen kisses Donna’s hands and hair and hugs her like she is the most precious thing he knows. His hugs are also different from Ten’s. Fourteen wraps himself around Donna and holds her tight, this is how he shows his affection. He wants Donna to hear, know AND feel how much he cares. Because he already knows what it’s like to lose her and he wants her to know in case he has to let her go forever again.

When there is a threat of the world ending and his wonderful selfless Donna once again stresses that it is not about her, the Doctor solemnly replies that it really is. Because here right now in mortal danger he is willing to put her first and thinks of her wellbeing before anything else, because Donna Noble means the world to him.

Fourteen loves Donna so much, that he is willing to stay with her forever, staying still is not so bad when it’s with her. Fourteen is so tired and weary and bruised and exhausted but when he looks into Donna’s eyes, he doesn’t feel so tired anymore.

Fourteen got Ten’s face because he needed rest, but also maybe, just maybe, because Ten didn’t want to go so badly that he broke through and got the chance to come back so he could have another chance, to have a life and be with his best friend again and come home. Fourteen was born out of love that Ten had for Donna. And that love (and the TARDIS) brought him right to Donna’s doorstep, so he can hear her call him spaceman again and have the best of times for as long as they live and have a laugh with his family in their shared garden and find out what it’s like to be happy. Fourteen gives his love so openly and freely and he gets to receive it too, he gets to bask in it and revel in it. He finally gets the reward Ten was dreaming about.

[vesppperoro]

hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️

a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars

do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️

Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader

Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.

A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭

Charlie Morningstar

She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.

You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.

When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.

She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.

You were like a child! Why were you even here?

She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.

She became a mother figure to you.

You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.

She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.

A silent moment of understanding.

She loves picking you up and holding you!

She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.

She’s the one you go to for emotional things.

She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.

Vaggie

She became a secondary mother figure to you.

She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.

She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.

She’s the more levelheaded one.

She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.

She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.

When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.

A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.

Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.

You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.

She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!

She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.

Angel Dust

Honestly, he saw himself in you.

A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.

He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.

He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.

He would go to the ends of hell for you.

He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.

You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.

He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.

He embraces you any time he can.

He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.

Husk

He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.

A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.

He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.

He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.

But when you told him your story, he almost broke.

You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.

He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.

If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.

Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.

He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.

He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!

Either way, he adores you.

He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.

Might even boop your nose once or twice.

Late night talks.

He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.

Niffty

Another tiny person! Yay!

You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.

Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.

She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!

She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.

Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.

She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.

Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.

You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!

She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.

She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.

Sir. Pentious

He’s a dad. Or, he was.

He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.

He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.

He also protects you.

Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.

He literally cried when you told him your story.

He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.

Best girl dad ever.

Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)

He teaches you some things about inventing!

You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.

He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.

Cherri Bomb

Chaotic auntie energy.

She would do ANYTHING for you.

She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.

She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.

She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.

Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.

They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.

She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.

She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.

She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.

Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.

Alastor

He’s not one to like kids, really.

He was, however, kinder to you.

He did anything to protect you.

He was like your insane uncle.

He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.

He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!

He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.

He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.

He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.

He pats your head like a dog lol.

Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.

[etz-ashashiyot]

You know how sometimes arguing a point is losing?

Like if you engage the argument at all you are inherently putting up for debate things that should never be up for debate and the argument itself is degrading?

You see this with interpersonal gaslighting:

A gaslighter doesn’t simply need to be right. They also need for you to believe that they are right. In stage one, you know that they’re being ridiculous, but you argue anyways. You argue for hours, without resolution. You argue over things that shouldn’t be up for debate  – your feelings, your opinions, your experience of the world. You argue because you need to be right, you need to be understood, or you need to get their approval. In stage one, you still believe yourself, but you also unwittingly put that belief up for debate. In stage two, you consider your gaslighter’s point of view first and try desperately to get them to see your point of view as well. You continue to engage because you’re afraid of what their perspective of you says about you. Winning the argument now has one objective :  proving that you’re still good, kind, and worthwhile. In stage three, when you’re hurt, you first ask, “What’s wrong with me?” You consider their point of view as normal. You start to lose your ability to make your own judgements. You become consumed with understanding them and seeing their perspective. You live with and obsess over every criticism, trying to solve it.

[Source]

But you also see this on a broader societal level, with people asking unfathomably awful questions about minority groups, such as:

[Source]

It should go without saying, but no group of people should be forced to explain that yes, they really are real people, dickheads. The question doesn't deserve an answer; it deserves at best a disgusted eyeroll + "Are you a Nazi?" and at worst a punch to the face.

There is also the related phenomenon of the "when did you stop beating your wife?" type questions. The question is framed as a yes or no question, but the real answer for the innocent is: "I've never beaten my wife and never would." But even that answer still dignifies the question with a real response and puts the idea in the mind of the listener that hey maybe that's a real possibility and this guy is lying because of course he wouldn't just admit that. Now I don't know what to believe, but I'm skeptical.

Even if he answers, doubt has been cast on his character and many people (maybe even most people) neither have the attention span to listen to his full counter argument and supporting evidence nor are invested enough in strangers' lives to take the time to dig for facts on their own. Critically, it comes from a good impulse that shouldn't be repressed or taken too far in the opposite direction; namely, that we want to believe survivors and make it socially acceptable to speak out about abuse.

This leaves us with the uncomfortable reality that balancing believing survivors and whistle-blowers against not automatically believing allegations that very well may be false and/or in bad faith is a very tricky balancing act indeed. Because of this, people tend to struggle with taking survivors seriously and with presuming innocence until guilt has actually been proven, both. And as for the latter, this is at least partially due to the same psychological factors underlying the Don't Think of an Elephant problem.

Why am I discussing this?

See the thing is that these types of discourse have all been used, heavily, against the Jewish community, especially since Oct 7th, but really going back hundreds of years.

If you want to be our ally, you need to be on guard for how people use this rhetoric to accuse Jews of absolutely batshit cookoo bananas allegations (like being lizard people or having horns, or secretly running the world, or killing Christian babies to use their blood in our matzah, etc. etc.) and get away with it. Now obviously if so many people weren't already racist towards Jews as a people and had a vested interest in maintaining their supercessionist cultural worldview from Christianity and Islam, it would be a lot harder for this to work. Alas, the past 2000 years has created a bit of a snowballing effect.

This culminates in the effect described so well by Sartre:

Never believe that anti-Semites are completely unaware of the absurdity of their replies. They know that their remarks are frivolous, open to challenge. But they are amusing themselves, for it is their adversary who is obliged to use words responsibly, since he believes in words. The anti-Semites have the right to play. They even like to play with discourse for, by giving ridiculous reasons, they discredit the seriousness of their interlocutors. They delight in acting in bad faith, since they seek not to persuade by sound argument but to intimidate and disconcert. If you press them too closely, they will abruptly fall silent, loftily indicating by some phrase that the time for argument is past.

— Jean-Paul Sartre

Right now, Jews are facing extreme levels of these types of rhetorical abuse, and are receiving very little help in the way of pushback.

We have to stop trying to explain ourselves and start just naming these tactics instead.

[deadsetobsessions]

Cassandra Cain wandered. It has always been so, it will always be so. The moment she clutched the bloody remains of her own freedom in her hands, Cassandra flew and flitted between the cracks of the places she finds.

The only thing that ever made her stay was her dad and their family. The only place she ever settled in for more than a scant number of months was Gotham.

But they’re in a place- a universe- Cassandra could never return to, could not follow, because they had forbidden her to do so. Tim’s grip on her arm, two textures of bloodied skin and torn gloves, told her everything he wanted to say. Her little brother all but shoved her through the crack between planes and universes, and begged her to live with fearful eyes and the grim set of his shoulders.

She has never been good at denying Tim.

The first few weeks were… difficult. She ran- liberated a boat, from men with sabres and cruel hands- and learned to feel the desperate pull of freedom on her hands amongst the waves. She was lost, adrift, silent in her grief. She could be free. She has never been freer. But Cass had never wanted to be free from those she claimed as her own.

Cassandra was built and trained to survive. To walk into a fight and come out the victor, no matter the cost. So she adapts and overcomes and tries not to wallow in her grief.

This new world was different. Brighter, in many ways, than her home dimension. Not that it was hard, considering her home was a wasteland by now, with the moving corpses of what once was her family. The former vigilante knew better than to take it at face value. The brightest places tend to have the darkest shadows. And so, she travels, looking for a purpose. Looking for Hong Kong, because she’s well aware she’ll never find a Gotham again. She braves the sea, travels in between groups of pirates and struggles to understand the slips of sounds that did not make sense to her. It was like before Bruce found her all over again and Cassandra tried a little to learn like how he would have wanted her to. But it is hard, and spoken language was never important to her, never necessary. It was relevant only because her loved ones deemed it important.

Then, she finds a boy on an island, whose words were simple and who was always warm-welcoming-happy-free.

Predictably, Cassandra learns the word “meat” right after learning his name. He was like… the sun. Bright, bold, and unfettered in his will. More stubborn than her brothers and sisters, a feat Cass had not thought possible outside of Gotham, and more than Bruce, only because he could not be swayed by logic. He was Monkey D. Luffy and he wanted to be freer than anyone else.

“Join my crew!”

Cass could not kill. She could not be a pirate.

“Shishishi!” He throws his head back when he laughs, and Cass can tell that he means it. That he thinks her silly for-

“Then my first mate won’t need to kill! We’ll be strong enough to leave people alive! That’s your dream, right?”

Cassandra is breathless. She is still. And- maybe Luffy doesn’t have the training she does, but he understood. She could read it in the lines of his shoulders, the way his rubber limbs don’t snap. She couldn’t believe that she would find anyone that would understand her will to never kill, not after dad, who had wrapped her in shadows that whispered safety and understanding-

“You wanna be free and you want to help without killing! I’m gonna be the Pirate King, and the Pirate King’s crew’s gotta be the free-est! And we can help people if they pay us in meat!”

- but Luffy was a supernova and Cassandra believes.

“Okay.”

“YES!” Luffy roars with happiness, grin wide as the glow in her heart. “I GOT A FIRST MATE!”

——

Cass contorts herself into the barrel- not a difficult feat, since she was already small to begin with- and sighs. She pokes Luffy’s forehead before lightly tugging on his cheek, stretching the skin a bit, in a small scolding.

“Awe, nap time!”

Cass sighs, too familiar with the antics of a chaotic younger brother.

[badwolfrose34]

Girl in the Fireplace Rant (cont.)

There was at least some engagement on my last post about this so I decided I will in fact post a follow up. GitF was 100% a bad faith episode. Moffat wrote it because he is classist and misogynistic and hates Rose. Unfortunately, part of his purpose for the episode was to show that the Doctor will always prefer a “classy” aristocrat over Rose and he wanted to have her treated as nothing. So, all of us Rose fans have to come up with a headcanon that undermines the writer’s intentions.

I think the most common one is to believe the episode was the Doctor’s attempts to push Rose away because of her mortality and how that scares him.

That never worked for me because a major part of the Doctor’s character is his protectiveness. He would never push her away to the point of danger or abandonment. For me, I feel that fictional or not, the actions of the Doctor in that episode would be entirely unforgivable if they did happen. So my headcanon is that this episode was a nightmare Rose had.

If you are like me are also one of the fans for whom the pushing her away theory doesn’t work, read on for my explanation of why I don’t think GitF could be an actual event within canon. Moffat may be a BBC writer but it doesn’t give him a right to completely undermine the show, it doesn’t actually belong to anyone outside of financial concerns. If you’re content with believing he needed to push Rose away and that the episode did happen, you can ignore this.

Why the events GitF did not happen within canon (but could’ve happened as a nightmare)

1. Doctor Who canon is very loose as it is. With multiple writers across multiple mediums, things do contradict each other and us as fans get to decide for ourselves what fits with canon and what does not.

2. The Doctor has been clearly shown to be in love with Rose. He is protective of her to the point that if a decision will kill everyone else but give her even a slight chance of survival, he can’t actually make that decision. He almost did in Dalek, but after she didn’t get through the barricade the first time he was incapable of significantly reducing her safety for the good of everyone else. He snapped awake from a regeneration coma just because Rose said “help me”. He freaked out when Cassandra had her body and again in Tooth and Claw when she was in trouble. If you count Stone Rose that almost certainly took place before GitF and he once again, lost his mind over Rose being a statue.

I do understand seeing Sarah Jane age freaked him out. And I could’ve understood him distancing himself from Rose a bit in some way. But his instinct to protect her is so strong he’d never sacrifice her safety to push her away. Leaving her alone with clockwork for an extended period of time while he partied and invented drinks is impossible enough. Let alone the way he believed he’d have no way back to the ship when he went through the time window for the last time. Not only had he just promised she could spend the rest of her life with him, but her and Mickey would’ve likely died alone on that abandoned spaceship.

Simply, it’s just too out of character to happen within the rest of the Ninth and Tenth Doctors’ canon.

3. The horse. I have been a big horse person my entire life. Horses have extremely strong flight instincts. Even the most trusting and well trained horse in the world is never going to jump through reinforced glass. I do realize as Sci Fi fans we have to suspend disbelief for a lot of things. But we are never given an explanation as to why this horse would behave so dramatically differently from another horse. Every bizarre thing we accept in the DW universe is explained to some extent. There is a book where the Doctor tames a horse with psychic paper. But that horse is never asked to violate its instincts. That horse behaves as any other tame horse behaves. That is an example of acceptable DW suspension of belief. There is still a sci fi/alien technical explanation and I can absorb it. I cannot absorb a horse jumping through a firm glass window unless they were running from something even scarier. No matter how well trained a horse is, it’s not jumping through glass just because a humanoid asked them to. Nothing was chasing Arthur and his body language did not suggest any kind of fear to indicate he was running from something even scarier. All the droids were already in the other side of the window as well. It’s simply bizarre and impossible, even in a sci fi snow. Within this very show the Doctor states you can’t hypnotize someone beyond their survival instincts. I believe this applies to horses and a horse’s instincts is to avoid jumping through or into a reinforced barrier.

Next, we are given no explanation as to how this horse jumped through glass unscathed. Glass that was said to be so strong only a truck could break through. Horses are also extremely delicate and many have fatally injured themselves just playing in the paddock. Even for injuries not that extreme, every horse person knows that even small things result in giant vet bills.

Finally, it is once again grossly out of character for the Doctor to take a living animal and make them do something he previously calculated would required a truck.

4. Things are back to normal as if the episode never happened by the Rise of the Cybermen. If the Doctor had really developed feelings for another woman so strong that he would leave Rose for dead, then lost her, would he just be back to being the same old Doctor the very next episode? I doubt it. The Doctor is also a character known for holding on to guilt. Even if Reinette was mechanism to push Rose away, the way he abandoned her would’ve caused enough guilt he wouldn’t just be normal the very next episode. The show carries on as if Reinette never happened because Reinette never happened.

The only reference to that GitF is some clockwork droids in John Smith’s journal. Which could be explained by another encounter with the droids or by the Doctor looking at Rose’s mind to see the nightmare. Which would be an intimate enough moment to imprint on John Smith’s subconscious. The words “a girl in every fireplace” can once again refer to the Doctor seeing Rose’s nightmare or another off screen adventure entirely. There is no reference strong enough to confirm the actual events of GitF ever happened. The show functions exactly the same way without it. Because, it never happened.

5. The events of the show make perfect sense as a nightmare in Rose’s head. Take it from someone with a degree in psychology. Rose has abandonment wounds from Jimmy Stone. She also has abandonment wounds from her father dying when she was too young to understand it. School Reunion, the episode right before GitF triggers her abandonment wounds by making her see the Doctor has previously left companions and did not come back for them. It also makes her wonder if she is special to the Doctor. These doubts combined with her past trauma are a perfect recipe for her to have a bizarre nightmare where she gets abandoned in the most horrific way after the events of School Reunion.

I will leave you all with my fic where this was all a nightmare. Or you can write your own if you prefer. My point is that for those who feel the way I do about this episode, we do not have to accept the events as canon. We do not have to believe the Doctor has ever treated Rose this way except in her worst nightmares.

Update to address Deep Breath:

1. Doctor mentioned seeing clockwork droids before, but we know that the Doctor has many off screen adventures. He could’ve encountered the droids at any other point in his entire life besides GitF.

2. As for that episode stating the SS Madame De Pompadour existed, that still doesn’t confirm anything. There was a real life ship called the USS Queen of France. This was named for Marie Antoinette. Jackie dated a sailor once and Rose had a friend named Keisha whose brother was a sailor. This means Rose could’ve heard one of them discussing historical naval ships. This how she would imagine a ship named after Madame de Pompadour in the first place. She and the people who built the SS Madame de Pompadour and SS Marie Antoinette would’ve simply drawn inspiration from the same place. Also, there’s the fact that someone named a fictional ship Titan many years before Titanic ever existed.

Update 2: Rose was going to get an A level in French if she hadn’t run off with Jimmy. So she could’ve reasonably been familiar with some aspects of French history and able to imagine all of these things in a dream, even if it wasn’t a historically accurate dream, everyone knows weird things happen in dreams.

[alluratron]

Thoughts on Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru is a character with nuance.

With the release of JJK chapter 236, many people are shocked, confused and outraged at his characterisation at the end of his run in the manga. There are claims of character assassination, of blatant disregard for everything he has done so far, of telling instead of showing. The portrayal of Gojo as someone whose primary motivation was strength has left multitudes of fans reeling.

Nanami states that Gojo’s reason for wielding jujutsu was not his own survival, nor the protection of others, but rather in pursuit of wanton satisfaction. Gojo does not deny this and neither can we. After all, in chapter 233 it was stated by the narrator that as the possibility of defeat crossed Gojo’s mind, an intense feeling of satisfaction bubbled up in him as well. The truth is, Gojo loves jujutsu. He loves his own strength. He loves to use it, to show it off, to flex. He revels in his own power.

Gojo enjoys being The Strongest.

However, he doesn’t enjoy being The Strongest, alone.

The contradiction in Gojo is that, much like Sukuna, he sees himself as More Than. They are beyond humans, beyond curses, beyond anything of this world. They exist in a realm of their own. Make no mistake, Gojo harbours great affection for those around him. He says as much in 236 (みんな大好きさ寂しくはなかった - I really liked everyone and I wasn’t lonely). But he also admits that there was a separation between himself and other other living creatures. This phrasing is crucial. Gojo is effectively admitting here that from his perspective, other humans are as different from him as any other creature of this world. He doesn’t even really consider them to be the same species. This is further reinforced through his analogy of flowers. He states that you can admire a flower and make it bloom, but you don’t wish to be understood by it. Gojo cares for those around him and he cultivated his students to help them blossom, to achieve their potential, but they were flowers to him. They were inferior beings, incapable of understanding his superior existence, and so why should he open himself up to them? Shoko mentally chastises him for this in chapter 220, pointing out that she was right there alongside him even with the loss of Geto, that all his talk of being alone was idiotic because she was there and he could’ve relied on her. But he didn’t because in his mind, Shoko, like everyone else, is inferior and incapable of understanding him. To him, it is pointless to try.

But where Gojo differs significantly from Sukuna, is that Gojo desperately wants to be understood.

Gojo is so painfully human in that way. Perhaps he wouldn’t be, had he never known Geto. But he did know him, and for those 3 years, Gojo knew companionship. He felt understood by Geto because Geto, being equally The Strongest, was capable of understanding Gojo, in Gojo’s own mind. When Geto defected, he called Gojo arrogant in his own strength for saying killing all non-sorcerers would be impossible for Geto and attempting the impossible was pointless, when such a task would not be impossible for Gojo himself. He asks of Gojo, “are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru, or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?”. This exchange, unfortunately causes Gojo to misunderstand Geto’s reason for defecting, or at least to oversimplify it. Gojo’s takeaway is that the issue was in Geto’s inability to keep pace with him. This would further solidify his belief that he exists apart from all of humanity. Yet he could not make peace with that. He mourned Geto’s departure and disliked his newfound loneliness (which, mind you, was only the case because of that very belief that only an equal in strength can understand him).

This would drive Gojo to seek out Megumi, something he could have done at any point in the year since Toji’s death but had no motivation to do. The words he says to Megumi are crucial - “強くなってよ。僕に置いていかれないくらい” or “Get strong. Enough to not be left behind by me.” From this, two things are clear. First, that Gojo has no intention of slowing down. Second, that Gojo wants Megumi to be on his level. He’s essentially seeking out another Geto, one that he won’t lose to their own inability to keep up with him. He’s not willing to come down from his superhuman level to connect with the average - as previously said, Gojo revels in his own strength - but rather he wants others to ascend to his level. Gege stated in the fanbook that the reason Gojo went to find Megumi was because he’s seeking talented people, and the reason he helps problem children like Yuta and Yuji is because they’re strong so he doesn’t care about the other details. There is no mention of righteousness or kindness in his actions here. Now, the fanbook is secondary material so I will always err on the side of the main text taking precedence. But since the main text does not give us any explanation from Gojo as to his true reason for saving Yuta and Yuji, and Gege’s explanation in the fanbook on Gojo’s recruit of Megumi aligns with what we see in the manga, it’s likely that his interest in Yuta and Yuji is indeed purely due to their strength potential, at least at first. He does grow fond of them as people, and he wants them to enjoy their youth. But ultimately, his reason for raising them remains that, selfishly, he doesn’t want to be alone at the top.

His idea of “resetting the crappy jujutsu world” is making it so that life as a jujutsu sorcerer is as fun for everyone as it is for him, or at least as he imagines it would be if his youth hadn’t been interrupted by Geto’s spiral. Being a jujutsu sorcerer is Gojo’s job, but he doesn’t resent it at all. Because unlike all the other sorcerers who are here because they have no choice, or because they feel a sense of responsibility to protect the defenceless, or because they fear being killed by curses and using jujutsu as a retired sorcerer is illegal (looking at you, Kusakabe), Gojo is here because jujutsu is fun. He doesn’t feel that inherent drive to protect the defenceless (he actually finds that part of it kind of exhausting) and he doesn’t feel that fear because no curse could remotely threaten him, so he just gets to enjoy jujutsu for what it is. Gojo wants the same for his students. He wants them to enjoy the experience of life as a jujutsu sorcerer, without fear, and without suffering and being forced to question what the hell they’re even doing this for. If they can be as strong as him, there is nothing to worry about - nobody dies, nobody gets left alone, nobody falls behind. It’s an idyllic picture for Gojo.

There seems to be a misconception that 326 suggests that Gojo’s only reason for training the students was to eventually fight them at their best. That is not the case. Gojo’s love of fighting and Gojo’s desire for an equal are two separate things that only got amalgamated in Sukuna. After all, Gojo never sought to fight Geto. We know they scuffled sometimes, but it’s not like Gojo was constantly trying to instigate a death match. His desire for an equal is, on its own, simply a desire to be understood, something he does not believe is possible by a weaker being. He longs for companionship but won’t let himself find it in people he views as inferior. Regardless of having an equal, Gojo still loves his own strength. He loves toying with opponents, and showing off, and brutal violence. The more challenging the opponent/situation, the further he gets to stretch his limbs.

Fighting Sukuna presented Gojo with an opportunity to satisfy both of these things.

Does Gojo have anything against Sukuna or the way he lives his life? Not really. There isn’t an ideological opposition at play here like there is between Yuji and Sukuna, they just happen to be allied with parties who are in conflict. And, with them both being the jujutsu-loving, strength merchants that they are, they’re genuinely excited at the prospect of fighting each other. Gojo does want and plan to save Megumi, sure, but in any case that requires defeating Sukuna. He wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d worry about that later - fighting Sukuna genuinely takes priority, both strategically and selfishly.

In terms of the fight, Gojo has a blast. He gets to go all out like he’s never gone all out before. He’s pushed to invent things on the spot or legitimately just die. He doesn’t even have to toy with his opponent to keep the fight going, he’s sprinting from start to finish and is giddy with it. This is possibly the most fun he’s ever had.

In terms of the emotion, Gojo has been desperately trying to find someone as strong as him because (he believes) only they can understand him. It’s to the point that he has spent the past decade trying to basically build-a-bear some equals. Suddenly, he’s presented with one, fully formed, requiring no additional shaping on his part. It’s believable that he would be excited to take that chance of being understood, being seen wholly, by the only person alive in the world at this moment that he believes capable of wrapping their mind around him, since they’re both so far above every other living being.

And so Gojo fights Sukuna and pours everything he is into it. He pushes his body to its physical limits, he uses every jujutsu ability he’s ever learned, he comes up with new ideas on the spot, he throws out multiple max output attacks. Everything we have ever been told that Gojo is capable of doing gets put on show in this fight. He does all this because he wants Sukuna to see him in his entirety, because nobody else ever has. If he tried to unleash all of this on anybody else, it would kill them before he could even get a quarter of the way through.

See, on the one hand, Gojo’s self imposed isolation is born of his own arrogance but on the other hand, he’s also right in a way; because jujutsu is a part of the makeup of Gojo Satoru - its something he enjoys and it will always be a part of him. Yet he does not fight with allies because in doing so, he would be forced to limit himself. Like Yuta acknowledges in 235, if they were on the battlefield Gojo would have been unable to perform that AoE purple blast without harming them too. He must choose between being alone when doing jujutsu, or restricting himself in this thing that he loves. This feeds into the notion that they can’t understand him - he literally has to contain himself so as not to be too much for them.

He’s not too much for Sukuna, though.

Against Sukuna, Gojo gets to exist in his entirety, unrestrained, and for that he is appreciative. But we also see Gojo’s kindness, or rather empathy. He personally was satisfied by the fight - he was able to be seen wholly. He could simply have a “fuck you, got mine” mentality about it, but we see that he actually feels sorry to Sukuna for not being able to take everything Sukuna is the way Sukuna was for him. Sukuna could not afford to go all out if it meant dying to the other sorcerers as soon as the fight with Gojo ended. I believe this is why he looked less impressive throughout the whole fight - a Gojo giving it his all puts on more of a display than a Sukuna sticking to a pre-determined plan and doing minimal improvisation. But even though Sukuna didn’t let himself go all out, he still won. This would lead Gojo to believe (and it’s not an illogical conclusion) that if Sukuna had been going all out, Gojo wouldn’t be able to take it all. Gojo feels bad about it because he was unable to be for Sukuna what Sukuna was for him, he feels bad that Sukuna will seemingly never experience that same satisfaction (because, of course, if it’s not Gojo himself giving him that, he thinks nobody else can). This isn’t Gojo feeling bad about himself for being weaker, it is genuine empathy for Sukuna because Sukuna is someone that Gojo does actually perceive as the same species as him, not someone he necessarily considers evil or an enemy.

It’s not as bad as he thinks, though, because Sukuna did take immense enjoyment in this fight. It’s true that he wasn’t pushed to the point of having to give everything here, but he was still pushed further than ever before. Many people have confused “he wasn’t going all out” for “he wasn’t even trying” and that’s such a dichotomous way of looking at things - zero or one hundred. Sukuna was absolutely trying in this fight. For the first time in a thousand years, he actually felt the nervousness of possibly losing, because Gojo’s final purple could have killed him. It’s only because it was an AoE attack and not directly aimed at Sukuna that he survived, and visibly in the worst condition of his life. And after slicing Gojo, he praises him (“you were magnificent” is crazy levels of acknowledgment from Sukuna!) and admits that he will never forget him for as long as he lives. This is coming from the guy that called Gojo ordinary and unenlightened just 6 chapters prior. Gojo moved him, this much is undeniable. And Gojo’s smile in his final moment suggests that he heard Sukuna. In the end, he knows that he did reach him in some way.

(Brief side note: Gojo never says he would definitely have lost to Sukuna even without the ten shadows. What he actually says is simply that he’s unsure as to if he would’ve won. And that’s because he, unlike much of the fandom, recognises that Sukuna’s skill and genius understanding of CE and jujutsu mean that without the ten shadows, he would’ve approached the fight very differently, especially those domain clashes, during which it’s clearly stated that Sukuna refrained from using his CT or even domain amplification too much so that the ten shadows could continue adapting in the background. Take out that element and of course Sukuna has more resources freed up to put into fighting Gojo actively.)

So this is the nuance of Gojo’s character. He’s selfish, yet capable of true empathy. He cares deeply, despite his unfathomable arrogance. His motivations are questionable, without being malicious. He sees himself as beyond human, yet at his core is painfully so. He’s not a hero, nor even really a “good” person. But he influenced those around him in ways they will carry forever.

[sachiko1309]

Daddy's girl

Summary: Carlisle just taking care of his little girl, while they are chaperoning a school trip

This is part of a story I write on Wattpad, as I am conviced this man needs more attention. Its called "Save Haven - Carlise Cullen". Feel free to hop over, my account name is in my description. 🥰

Word count: 3667

Warnings: period sex, daddy kink (sorry, it got the best of me 😏), praise kink, description of blood, general warning for the vampire daddy himself

Minors DNI! This contains adult content

It had been a draining day. Misses Harrison insisted on going the whole hike she planned out even though it was raining all morning. When we came back, I was drenched to the bones, shaking like a dry leave in the wind. And to all abundance, my period decided to come a few days early. So, I was fighting the whole hike against the cold, while my stomach tried to kill me. Back in the cabin, I let Bella hop into the shower first, because she looked even worse than I did. The Cullens were finished with changing their clothes so fast, I didn’t even realize they left.

When it was my turn, I pealed myself out of the wet clothes, groaning at the pain shooting through me. All I wanted was to crawl in my bed and forget the world even existed. Luckily, Carlisle was able to talk Misses Harrison out of her collective plan for the evening, convincing her smaller house groups could would be easier to be kept entertained during the shitty weather. After a hot shower I changed into fresh clothes, wrapping my up in one of Carlisles sweaters I stole from him for the trip. I looked like I drowned inside his way to big clothes, but right now I only cared about them being exceptionally warm.

Leaving the room, I ran into the Cullen kids and Bella sitting on the sofa. Jasper tensing up as soon as I stepped into the living room. He had been avoiding me like the plague all day, and it wasn’t until now, that it hit me. My period. He could smell my blood. “We all can.” Edward answered. “Good luck with Carlisle though.” He chuckled turning back to play with Bellas hair who was in a deep conversation with Alice. I scrunched my nose at his mysterious words, but shrugged it off, entering Carlisle and my bedroom.

As soon as I entered, I understood, what Edward meant. Carlisle was sitting on his bed and when his eyes landed on mine, he let out a low growl. His nostrils flaring, while his body tensed up. Instinctively, I stepped towards him: “Whats wrong, honey?” But he raised his hand, stopping me from approaching any further: “Don’t come any closer. Your smell… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Is it because I am on my period?” I asked, stepping back towards the door. He groaned at my words, leaning back on the bed. “Yes. I thought I could handle it, but its worse than I’d like to admit.”

“But you are not affected by human blood.” I said, not fully understanding what he meant.

“That’s not entirely true. Other humans blood doesn’t affect me. Yours on the other hand is another story. Like Bella to Edward you are my singer. The one human whos blood is more appealing than normal. And if I wouldn’t be abstinent for such a long time…” He let the end of his sentence hang in the air.

Sucking in a deep breath, I grasped for the door handle: “I will leave you alone then. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” But I wasn’t even able to fully open the door, when he was behind me, shutting the door with such force, I was surprise he didn’t break it. “No!” He growled. “Not when Jasper is around. Not when you smell this good.” His hands were on each side of my head, caging me in between the door and his tall frame. My heart beat so fast in my chest, that my head started to spin. Carlisle dipped down his head, starting to kiss my neck up and down, growling deeply the whole time. Him being this close made me tense up, but he didn’t seem to notice, grabbing me by my waist, pushing me into the corner of the room. I tried to force him back, but he didn’t even react to my hands pushing him away.

“Carlisle stop.” I whispered, my voice shaky and fearful. He didn’t listen, so I tried again: “Carlisle, you scare me.” Those words seemed to snap him out of his frenzy, because as soon as I said it, he jumped back, cowering in the opposite corner of the room. “Aubrey, I am sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me. I couldn’t…” He stopped, looking away from me. My eyes went soft, as soon as I saw how much he struggled with it. “Don’t worry, Carlisle. I trust you.” My words didn’t seem to help him one bit. Raging up he looked at me with angry eyes. “No, Aubrey. I could have easily killed you, or gone against your wishes. You don’t understand. I am a monster!”

“But you didn’t.” I answered calmly. “You stopped when I asked you to. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes…”

“Yeah, but mine get you killed. I should leave.” He got up from his crouched position, but I moved in front of the door, blocking him from leaving. “Get out of the way, Aubrey.” He growled, but I shook my head. “I am not going anywhere. You either tell me how I can help you, or I am not moving.”

Carlisle squinted his eyes. “I could easily move you out of the way.”

“Then do it.” I challenged him, tilting up my chin. “Move me out of the way. Show me what a coldhearted monster you are, that doesn’t care for my feelings.”

He roared in anger and it took everything in me not to run away from him. Because right now he really did look like a vampire. The way his black eyes hungrily scanned me, his whole body shaking in anger and frustration. The way he clenched his jaw to fight for control. But he didn’t touch me, or force me away from the door. One last deep growl later he sank down on his bed, collapsing in himself.

I took that as my cue to sit down next to him, grabbing his hand and leading it to my face. “I love you, Carlisle. Much more than I can tell you. Please tell me, how I can help you.” He took a deep breath, the expression on his face growing softer. “There is not much you can do. I just wasn’t prepared for you to get your period. I expected it when we where back home so you in this small room, smelling so appealing… It just got the best of me.”

“So, you don’t want to kill me anymore?” I joked, tilting my head in his hand. He chuckled, softly caressing my cheek. “Not more than usual.” Suddenly he maneuvered me on the bed, until he was leaning on top of me. “You do however look very cute, wearing my clothes.”

I could feel the tension in the room suddenly shift from strained to sexual.

Carlisle had me now pinned underneath him, planting soft little kisses on my neck and face. “Just cute?” I asked, audibly out of breath by his actions. He hummed into my ear. “Actually no. You look fucking ravishing.” It was a rare occurrence for him to cuss, but whenever he did, he used it in the most sensual way possible. “I wanna fuck you.” His statement caught me off guard, making me stutter in surprise: “I am on my period. And you nearly lost it minutes ago.”

Nestling with my sweatpants and my hoodie, he grinned down at me. “Sex has been proven to help with the cramping and the pain.” I didn’t resist him taking off my clothes, relishing in this intimate and dirty moment he was creating. “So, this is for pure medical reasons?”

“Purely.” He whispered against my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt over my whole body. Before I could even blink, he vanished from the room and was back, before the door fully swung open. A big towel in his hand. Lifting me up with one arm, he planted the towel underneath me, setting me back down again. Then he shuffled down until his head was between my legs.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked away, but he just kept my legs open, a wicked smile starting to spread onto his face. I knew what he was about to do, but I was still caught by surprise, when he tugged on the string of my tampon, effectively pulling it out. Carelessly he wrapped it inside a paper towel, disregarding it on the floor. “Carlisle!” I yelped out, but the rest of my complaint got stuck in my throat, as soon as he dipped his head down. A deep moan rumbling through my body, as soon as he licked one long stripe over my pussy.

My fingers found their way to his hair, pulling on the roots. His deep sensual growl answering my desperate needs. I could feel myself growing wetter instantly. Welcoming his cold fingers into my warmth. His touch was as light as a feather, having me on the edge of madness in seconds. “Carlisle.” I breathed out, unable to focus on anything else than the man between my legs. Pulled into the depths of his black eyes.

He was fingerfucking me slowly to the rhythm his tongue danced on my clit. “Please don’t stop.” I cried out, not caring on who was going to hear me. The smirk that started forming on his face was breathtaking. Full of confidence and arrogance. Something I rarely saw on him. “Never.” Was all he answered, slowly adding another finger. It was ridiculous how fast he was able to find that sweet spot deep inside of me. Fingers feeling so good, I couldn’t stop the moans spilling through the room.

“You taste so good.” He groaned, raising his head to properly look at me. His chin and mouth were covered in a mix of my slick and blood, making me gasp out in embarrassment. He looked so dangerous and appealing at the same time it was impossible for me to stay sane. Watching intently how tiny droplets of blood ran down his chin, dripping from his fangs. It was a dance on razors edge, having him taste my blood while simultaneously fingering to my orgasm, but I didn’t care. Mesmerized by the way his eyes were flickering between lust and hunger. Between the desire to fuck and kill me. And me being absolutely turned on by it was something I never imagined to happen.

Carlisles smile just grew wicked, when he realized how his appearance affected me. Wiping the blood off with his fingers licking them clean in the most sexual way I could imagine, he looked me deep in the eyes. “You like that, do you?” He asked. Unable to answer as I felt a third finger thrust against my core, I moaned in pleasure. “Answer me, love, or I will stop.”

“Yes.” Was all I was able to press out, is name now falling of my lips like a sweet prayer, not that there was anything holy left in this room, but I couldn’t care less.

As if he sensed the coil in my stomach growing tighter, he placed his other hand on my mouth, muffling my moans. “Careful, love. You were the one who didn’t want things to be official yet, remember?” And right as he said it, I could hear two of the female teachers pass our window, chatting about something. Luckily the curtains had been closed all day, because if it would have been otherwise, they would have seen the predicable scene I was caught in.

Dipping down again, his fingers and tongue kept working me relentlessly, finally pushing me over the edge. I lunged forward, as much as I could against his strong frame. My orgasm hitting me like a strong wave, pulling me deeper into the ocean. I let out a muffled cry, shaking uncontrollably in his arms. But Carlisle wasn’t finished with me. Coming up with his head, he licked my remains from his lips, wiping the rest of it on his shirt. His hand still playing with my pussy, he pinned me down against the mattress, kissing me hungrily. He tasted like a mix of my slick, blood and his overwhelming scent, turning my bones into a puddle in his hands. I attempted to catch my breath, which was hard, when Carlisle definitely wasn’t set on showing any mercy. Processing what just happened, I clung to his body.

Carlisle Cullen may be the calm collected gentleman for everyone else, but in the bedroom, he was as filthy as one can get. The difference only I got to see, making me melt into his arms even more.

His hands were roaming over my body, making me squirm under his cold touch. I felt the heat rise in my core again, my body calling out for him. “Please…” I whimpered, hooking my legs around his waist, pulling him in. “So needy.” He mused, kissing his way down to my breasts. Him taking a hard nipple in his mouth, had me jolt in blissful pleasure. Desperately for more, I tugged on the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He understood what I wanted, standing up from the bed in one smooth motion. Then he was back on me again, his cold skin pressing against my hot body.

I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my core, twitching in anticipation. He guided his hard member into me, easing his way in slowly, but I was tighter than usual, another wave of cramps hitting me right when he entered me. I knew he could feel it, by the way he cursed under his breath. He stopped mid movement, jaw clenched, but his eyes showing me how much he cared for me. Waiting for me to give my okay. After a while I nodded, allowing him to fully bottom me out and when he did something between a moan and a painful hiss left my mouth.

“I am sorry, love.” He apologized, pulling back, but I kept him in place with my hands on my shoulder. “Its not you. I am cramping.” I let out, tensing up at the sudden pain shooting through me. “Just be careful.”

“Always.” Carlisle started to move slowly, distracting me from any pain with kissing me until my head spun. It didn’t take long for him to have me mewling his name again, eyes rolling back in my head. I held onto his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist giving him a better angle to fuck me.

He set a deep slow pace full on set to pleasure me as much and long as possible. I could feel how my walls started to accommodate him more, his cock soothing the cramps with every move. I hummed in pleasure, sinking into the pillows even more. “You feel so good. ‘S so good.” I mewled, not really caring how audible my words were. But his vampire hearing still enabling him to understand me.

“Let go, love. I got you. You are safe.” His words were water on a hot stone, instantly dissolving into steam clouding my mind. My limps were tingling, the knot in my stomach growing bigger and bigger every second, my brain completely short circuited, purely filled with his presence and the feeling of his delicate fingers, playing with my breast.

I barely processed, how he hovered over me, his full bodyweight supported with his left elbow, lips kissing every inch of my body. I was in heaven right now fucked by a literal god. And maybe him completely having me cock drunk in seconds was what got me to let out the most guttural moan I ever produced: “Daddy.”

It took me a few seconds to comprehend what just happened, but as soon as the realization fought its way through my fogged brain, I clasped a hand in front of my mouth. But Carlisle didn’t seem to mind my slip up one bit. Quite the opposite. He let out a low growl, nudging me with his nose. “That’s what I am to you? Your daddy? Fucking you so good you stop thinking properly, hm?” I just blankly stared at him, caught totally off guard by his shamelessness. “Is that what you want from me? Be my little girl, I take care off?” Shifting his weight, so he was now hovering over me with both arms pushing him upwards, he was now towering over me, his thrusts not even faltering one second. “Say it again, baby girl. Let everyone know who you belong to.”

“Daddy.” I moaned again, when he hit a particularly deep spot inside of me, pushing all the air out of my lungs. He smiled at me, leaning back on his ankles, while simultaneously raising my hips to fuck me deeper into the mattress. “Such a good little girl, you are. Taking your daddy so well.” He praised me, not letting go of my eyes. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see you, when you make a mess on my cock. Oh, and what a mess you will make.”

I ripped my eyes open again, not being able to resist the soft English drawl he let slip in that moment. I could feel how the knot in my stomach was about to pop, threatening to throw me into the ocean of pleasure. And by the way he smiled down on me, he knew. Knew from the way I shivered in his hands, twitching uncontrollably around his cock. “Go on. Don’t be afraid, my love. I wanna see those beautiful eyes roll back in your head, when you come. Wanna feel how good I fuck you.” He spurred me on, smiling cockily.

And as on cue, I came.

Hard.

Back arching from the bed, my eyes rolling back inside my head. My whole body shivering in pure bliss from my orgasm, lips hanging open in a silent scream. I never came so hard and fast. The difference between the still sensual deep pace he thrusted into me and the rough filthy things he said to me, making my head spin in confusion. But Carlisle was not finished praising me: “That’s it. Ride it out, love. You are doing so good. Looking so beautiful like this.” I could feel myself leak on his lap, causing his cock to now draw even more lush noises from my pussy.

“Carlisle!” I cried out, now in complete subspace. “I need more. Please, daddy.”

“More from what?” He teased, not once faltering in his moves, driving me up the wall. “Use your words, little girl. Tell me what exactly it is that you want from me.”

“Harder, daddy. I need it harder. Need to feel you, please.” I begged, hands reaching out for him, trying to pull him down, but he resisted and I could hear the smugness in his words: “You already feel me, love.”

I cried out in desperation. “More. Need to feel you everywhere, daddy.” Finally, Carlisle gave in to my pleading, but different than what I expected. He pulled back from me, causing me to whine at the sudden loss of contact, but he shushed me quickly. “Shh, its alright, baby girl.” Manhandling me onto my stomach he hiked up one leg, settling between my thighs once again. And as he entered this time, he pressed me down with his full body. Effectively caging me in between his hard frame and the soft mattress.

“Yes.” I whimpered, feeling him thrusting much deeper into me than before. “Don’t stop. You’re making me feel so good, daddy. So safe. Thank you.”

“Always, love. Everything for you.” He growled in my ear and I could hear this whole situation didn’t let him be as unaffected as he firstly led on. The way he was now going harder, pinning my hands down with his strong fingers showed me how much it strained on his self control.

“Its okey, you can let go.” I mewled, arching my back to take him in a deeper angle, but he just groaned. “No. I am not finished with you yet.” The pure determination and possessiveness in his voice striking my once again. I moaned his name, calling out for him, earning a soft bite on my shoulder. “Such a good little girl. Taking me so well.” Sneaking a hand around my hip, he pressed two fingers on my clit, sloppily rubbing circles on it. “I wanna cum with you. Feel you around my cock, when I breed you. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, daddy.” I cried out, muffling my voice in the pillows. Goosebumps started to spread all over my body, a hot fire burning deep in my core once again. I clenched around his cock, eagerly wanting to milk him, feel his seed fill me up. Even though I knew I couldn’t get pregnant, the though of him breeding me whenever he liked, set things inside of me free, that I didn’t know I had.

A second shiver ran down my spine, spurring him on to fuck me even harder. His fingers were now moving faster, more demanding to give me a third orgasm. I started to shake uncontrollably, an indication for him, I was close. “I got you. Cum for me, love.” Was all he needed to say, to push me over the edge a last time. I came, a shivering mess underneath him. Clamping down on his cock, a muffled cry on my lips.

“Good girl.” He growled and I could feel him twitch inside of me, shooting his cold seed deep into my core. Riding out our orgasm he littered my back with kisses, leaving hot bitemarks behind, careful not to make them too visible. I gasped for air, blindly bucking against his frame, signaling it was getting to much for me. Instantly he, pulled out of me, starting to cuddle me, until his coldness made me shiver.

“Lets get you cleaned up, love and ready for bed.”

[phantomfallacy]

There’s not nearly enough analyses of Wriothesley and the panopticon that is Meropide.

Like, sure, the connection is there, but are your lines connecting to the right points? Because if you think Wriothesley’s office is the control tower and the Fortress is his all-knowing domain, I think you’re wrong.

Spoilers for his character quest and the Meropide world quest ahead, as well as various tidbits in mini quests:

The Unfinished Comedy reveals that there is a child who had been born in the prison, more or less a decade ago. More than enough time for Wriothesley to “discover” her. But he doesn’t. He is, without a doubt, an advocator of children, and would never allow her to stay in prison if he can help it. No matter what excuse there is, such as being busy with the reformation of the prison, the Fatui invasion, or the Wingalet construction, it doesn’t negate the fact that Wriothesley doesn’t know, or he would’ve acted.

The Beret Society as well, while coming under Wriothesley’s purview, has existed long enough to brainwash and break the spirits of the people who have joined. He had no evidence that Dougier had been breaking rules and infringing on human rights.

So no, Wriothesley, contrary to the Fortress of Meropide description, does not know everything that goes on in the Fortress, and he tells us so.

So then why does the description say otherwise?

The concept of the panopticon is that a single prison warden can maintain order because people will never be able to tell if his eyes are on them. As a result, they will behave, regardless of whether the warden is truly watching or not. Wriothesley tells us that he doesn’t have eyes and ears everywhere because we are not a prisoner. We do not need to be intimidated into behaving. Moreover, the Traveler seems to be an exception to everything like a harem protagonist so let’s discount “our” knowledge of Wriothesley’s claim.

What I think slaps the most though, is that his panopticon isn’t just the Fortress, but the Court of Fontaine as well.

It is mentioned that Wriothesley knows the ongoings of the overworld despite rarely coming up. The citizens of Fontaine see Meropide as this horrible place, even after Wriothesley’s reforms, and it’s not only because of prejudice (though that is most certainly the case), but because of his refusal to be perceived. He refuses Charlotte’s interviews, though being a Duke would most certainly put him in the eye of the public. This is a tentative maintenance of his public persona: that of a cruel and unfathomable man.

“The less people see of me, the happier they will be.”

If people understood that Meropide had welfare meals, stable work hours, and relatively accessible healthcare, why would they be incentivized to follow the law? Especially those of Fleuvre Cendre. But Meropide cannot possibly be that kind of haven. It is a prison, and forever should be—because it is not sustainable.

What humans cannot understand, they fear, and that works to keep the rest of Fontaine in check from committing crimes. No one wants to go to prison, no one wants to suffer, no one wants to see the Duke of Meropide. It’s embedded into the very society, so much that they have pop culture-like phrases for it.

The Duke’s office isn’t the control tower. The whole of Meropide Fortress is, and Fontaine is the “prison.”

There are other interpretations of course, such as the factor of more recent commentary on panopticons and how they bring up the topic of holding those in absolute power accountable. The warden at the center of the panopticon has absolute power, but how is he to be kept accountable?

It could be a hint about how Wriothesley isn’t as in control as he presents himself, and the way he rules is dependent on the people who keep him in check. After all, he says that as Duke, he must set an example of persecuting only after evidence has been found of a wrongdoing, otherwise he could have simply killed Dougier. However, that would certainly bring the Fortress down around him as people questioned his reputation as a fair ruler. (Cough bringing back my sword of Damocles bullshit here//shot).

Alternatively, Wriothesley himself could be a sword of Damocles upon Fontaine, evidenced by Neuvillette’s story quest, but I feel like that would be a Wriolette thread…

Without the source material confirming anything, we’re just playing with Schrödinger’s cat though. Just some food for thought.

Next time on Dragon Ball Z: my TED Talk on why the Fortress of Meropide is not called the Fortress of Atlantis because Wriothesley presents it as communism but it is totalitarian and why that works— (Kidding, I don’t wanna touch this with a ten foot pole pls don’t respond with political philosophies I will perish 🫠🫠🫠😵)

[reflectismo]

Paul McCartney’s thoughts from 1983 on Phillip Norman’s ‘Shout!’, marketed as the supposed ‘True Story of The Beatles’:

“My problem is to me, I come over as this very together guy, always got his finger on top of everything: the man with no problems. School – a doddle, got all the exams. This is the sort of image of me. Actually, I had murder getting through exams, like I was saying about being on tour during my GCEs. I was like the kid who was getting the cane. Just like John was, but he [Phillip Norman] makes me the very shrewd, always-going-to-succeed guy, and John is the kind of cute, working-class hero. In actual fact though, John was just as shrewd and ambitious as I was. What does me in is he adds to this image I’ve got; I resent that, because I know I’m not that, and I know I’ve never been that.

Like in the book, I almost kill Stu Sutcliffe. The way it comes over is that I used to really put Stu down, whereas in actual fact, I had a little bit of a thing against Stu, but that was for one reason – he couldn’t play bass. I had a purely musical thing about it ‘What are we going to do about a bass player who can’t play bass?’ And the other great legend is Pete Best – ‘Why did they get rid of this poor lad?’ Because George Martin told us – ‘Your drummer can’t drum. Get rid.’ What are we gonna do, try and pretend he’s wonderful drummer? We knew he wasn’t as good as what we wanted in the group, so we got another drummer that we wanted. He was called Ringo. It had got to the stage that Pete was holding us back.

You can’t help it, if there’s somebody in the group who doesn’t click. Like Stu. Stu was a great guy, a lovely guy, and I didn’t understand him, it’s true. There’s a lot of people in my life I haven’t understood; I’m not the world’s most psychic person. I make a lot of mistakes, and I misread people, I’ve read a lot of stuff about Stu since that I didn’t know about; I was taking him all wrongly. But it certainly wasn’t just me who was getting at him, everyone had their little goes. But I suddenly come out as the ‘go-getter’ and the ambitious one in the group. And John’s portrayed as the kind of nice guy who always falls into situations. And he has George standing there with his plectrum always waiting for a solo. Now that does George an injustice there’s a lot more to George – than just this idiot waiting for a solo.”

[one-idea]

ASL being raised by Shanks part 4

First - Previous - Next

After everything calms down. Luffy accepts that he won’t swim again, Ace doesn’t he’s still hopping mad. But nothing cools Ace’s rage quite like his brothers. “But Ace look how cool this is.” Luffy proceeds to throw his fist forward. The rubber stretches, hits a wall bounces back, and hits Luffy square in the face. You can’t not laugh at the poor baby.

Ace is still mad at Shanks though. Blaming him for Luffy’s new powers (and if this isn’t Buggy all over again. Blaming Shanks for his own decision to eat a devil fruit, though Luffy didn’t know)

Shanks has finally calmed down. Luffy is safe and relatively unharmed (though the devil fruit being harmful is debatable) he can finally figure out what’s been going on with his son. He also gets to introduce Mihawk to the boys. Ace is suspicious of everyone. Sabo is far too polite for a homeless boy, Shanks needs to figure this kid out. He has a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with that dumb noble who was threatening his boy. And Luffy is full of wonder at anyone Shanks introduces.

He introduces Mihawk as a friend (they’ve never really put hard labels on their relationship. Not wanting others to use it against them) which gets some snickers and eye rolls from the crew. The older boys seem to catch them with a quickly traded glances, but they go right over Luffy’s head. All three boys are easily distracted by the rest of the sentence anyway. “This is my friend Dracula Mihawk. The world’s greatest swordsman.”

The boys are chaos. Sabo wants by to know how such a title is earned. Ace asking how many people he’s killed. Luffy asking is Mihawk is a part of Shanks’ crew. To which Mihawk answers them all in turn. “I killed the previous title holder. I’ve killed a lot of people. No.” The last one is the most uncomfortable question. He’s not part of Shanks crew, but that leads to the next question.

“Why not? Shanks is the best.” Luffy is more upset that he’s not in Shanks’ crew than finding out he’s killed ‘a lot’ of people.

And Mihawk can’t even argue with the kid. Shanks is the best. If he were to follow a captain he would chose Shanks. But he won’t ever tell the other man that because well…. “I prefer my freedom.” And Luffy seems to understand that. All the boys do. The same way Shanks understands.

Not many people would put up with a relationship like theirs. Mihawk knows plenty of pirates who have relations with people on shore. The pirate chasing freedom and their partner waiting for their return. He’s never wanted that. Never wanted the weakness a helpless stationary lover brings. But Shanks is anything but helpless and moves around more than Mihawk does. If he was ever going to commit to someone it would be Shanks, who could almost match him in strength. Who understood the call of the sea, the pull of a challenge and adventure. And who knows Mihawk won’t be tethered. He comes and goes as he pleases much the same as Shanks does. It works for them. (But will it work once kids are involved?)

Luffy just smiles at him and laughs. His hand coming to rest upon the famed straw hat as he smiles at the world’s greatest swordsman and says “one day I’m going to be king of the pirates! The freest man alive!”

And Mihawk gets it. Gets what Shanks sees in the boy. He’s crazy. But in the way Rogers was crazy. In the way that the world can’t take his joy and smile from him crazy. In he’s going to bend the world to his whim crazy. And Mihawk is going to love every second of watching him do it.

Ace punches him in the head and yell about not proclaiming that to just anyone. And the boy seems haunted by a knowledge his young age should afford him. He’s interesting. Mihawk catches Shanks’ eyes over the boys head and can tell his lover caught it to. There’s something off about these two older boys.

They spend about it a week on the island

Shanks spends the time catching up with Luffy and getting to know Ace and Sabo. More Sabo as Ace is still mad about the devil fruit and doesn’t trust Shanks at all.

He’s making some head way with Sabo though. The boy wants to be a writer and travel the world. He loves hearing about Shanks and the crew’s adventures. He’s making friends with in the crew. Especially with Benn and Yasopp. The former a steady presence and the latter full of stories. But Sabo has to agree with Luffy. Shanks is the best.

Shanks takes the boys up to his and Luffy’s hill at night. Ace drags his feet not wanting to come, but unwilling to leave his brothers alone with Shanks. Sabo and Luffy are thrilled. Shanks is telling them stories about the stars. He has Luffy and Sabo’s full attention. It’s only Ace who notices their shadow trailing them. Mihawk never joining the moment but close enough to make sure no danger could reach them. And it would almost be nice if Ace trusted either of these men.

One of the nights while watching the stars, Sabo lets it slip who his dad is. That he was the noble who had higher the pirates. That it’s his fault Luffy and Ace got hurt. Luffy and Ace are quick to comfort and reassure their brother that it’s not his fault, but Sabo is looking to Shanks. Waiting for the man to condemn the noble blood in his veins.

Shanks just smiles at the boy placing a hand on his shoulder. “What sort of life do you want?”

“I want to be free. I want to sail the world with my brothers. I don’t want to be a noble.” Sabo is quick. Wanting to convince the man in front of him that he’s not the monster that he knows nobles to be. That he’s a pirate just like his brother.

“Then free you will be.” Shanks turns his head just enough to catch Mihawks eye. It’s a short conversation. A raised eyebrow from Shanks ‘did you take care of this?’ A small smirk from Mihawk ‘already dealt with.’ Shanks quickly glances back at the boys before meeting Mihawk’s eyes again ‘he’s coming with us.’ A short head nod from Mihawk ‘of course.’

It takes the adults less than 10 seconds to have a full conversation. Shanks turns his attention back to the boys and smiles at Sabo. “You know you could always join my crew.” It’s said with a smile, warm and full of joy. It has a teasing lot to it. Shanks has learned never to show how much something means to him. If he keeps it light the outcome appears to not matter to him. It does. He wants Sabo to come with him. He wants Ace as well. But right now it’s a joke offer. A seed planted for when he truly offers.

Or so he thinks. Because Sabo’s face lights up. “Really?”

“Sure. Anchor’s already coming with us. You might as well join to.” Again Shanks keeps it light though he can see the excitement on both Sabo and Luffy’s faces.

“I’m still going with you!” Luffy is pumped. He was worried the devil fruit fiasco might have changed Shanks mind.

“Of course you’re still coming Anchor. We made a promise after all.” Shanks smiles as Luffy launches himself at his idol. Shanks laughs holding Luffy close, and opens his other arm of Sabo, who rushes in with out any hesitation. Is this what a dad is suppose to feel like? It a question going through all three of their heads.

But for Ace.

It’s white noise. His world stopped when Shanks offered Sabo a place on his crew. It shattered when Shanks revealed that Luffy was already leaving with him. The whole conversation has started to fade out for him. He can hear their laughter and excitement but it sounds so quite compared to his rapid breathing.

He’s losing them. His brothers. The only people in the world who know what a monster he is and love him anyways are leaving.

He can’t blame them. This encounter with the bluejams has just shown to Ace that he’s not strong enough to protect them. What good is he to them? Why should they stay with him? Why?

When they could have adventures with Shanks and his crew. Shanks who is strong enough to protect them. Who can offer them freedom in a way that Ace can’t. He’s losing them. He’s losing them and he can’t blame them for picking the better option. But he knows who he can blame.

He shoots to his feet drawling all of their attention. Luffy realizes what happening right before it does as he reaches out for his big brother “Ace.”

“I hate you. All of you. And I want nothing to do with you.” He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t think he could ever hate Luffy and Sabo, but Shanks. Ya he meant that one. He just says it because he knows it’s going to hurt them. Because he knows Luffy would never leave him unless Ace leaves first. And knows no matter how much this hurts him it’s what’s best for Sabo and Luffy. He takes off running and just misses Luffy reaching out for him.

Sabo and Luffy want to chase after him but Shanks keeps a tight hold. “It’s alright I’ll go get him.” He reassured the boys. Knowing he can find Ace by his haki signature faster than the two little boys in the woods can. Sabo is yelling that he doesn’t understand and Luffy is sobbing.

“No you don’t get it. Ace doesn’t think he should be alive.” Sabo yells out. “We’re all he has.” Shanks freezes. How? How can a child as young as Ace, who is ten years old, think so lowly of himself. Who told this child that they didn’t deserve to exist?.

Mihawk steps in to take Luffy and Sabo from Shanks. “I’ve got him. I promise I’ll bring him back.” Shanks swears to the boys.

He needs to move fast. Ace knows these woods better than him, but Shanks’ has some of the best haki in all of the new world. He can track this boy around the whole island, but that doesn’t mean he’ll reach him before something or someone else does. He knows this is his fault. He should have phased his offer to both boys. He wanted all three to come with him. But because of his phrasing he must have made Ace feel as though he was being left behind.

He needs to find Ace. Explain that all three boys are coming with him. That he wants Ace around. That Ace and his brothers are safe with him.

[dira333]

Bakugo x Reader, 6 parts, Timeskip AU

Not everyone is born with a Soulmark. But even if you are, it doesn't make things easier.

Warnings: None, Angst to Fluff.

Chapters are going to be posted daily - Masterlist

Part 5

“Thanks for coming, Dad.” Katsuki closes the door behind Masaru, makes sure to double-lock it. He doesn’t want visitors right now.

“You don’t look good, boy. Are you eating enough?”

Instead of answering, he pulls his father into an embrace, fighting against the tears threatening to spill. When was the last time his father was taller than him, sturdier than him?

Masaru rubs a soothing hand over his back.

“It’s okay, son. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he manages to get out. “It’s really not.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” Masaru takes the Couch, pats the space next to him. “Come on, I’ll listen.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“At the beginning, of course.”

Slowly, still a little unsure, he settles next to him, lets his head fall back against the headrest. His Dad’s shoulder is there, on his left side, like a pillar holding him up.

“Do you remember when I told you about the Fake Soulmate?”

“The one that happened to your friend with the red-white-hair?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I remember. What about that?”

“I never told you what came out of all of it, did I?”

Masaru hums in quiet acknowledgement, listens patiently as Katsuki unfolds the drama of it all like the world’s worst present.

“And now you’re scared.” Masaru comments when he has finished, last nights events still heavy on his tongue.

“I’m not sc-”

“Yes, you are.” Warm, sweaty hands fold around his and squeeze. “And it’s okay to be scared.”

Katsuki huffs. “I’m a Pro Hero.”

“This is different. You know that.”

He sighs, long and drawn out, before he turns to look at his father. 

“I didn’t tell you one thing,” he admits, still a little shaken by it. “The doctor couldn’t prove it, but he thinks the pain in my chest could have come from my Soulmate rejecting the bond.”

Masaru’s eyebrows furrow like angry caterpillars. Cold dread spreads over Katsuki’s shoulders.

“You’ve found them,” he guesses. “That’s why Mom blew up my phone yesterday. That’s it, isn’t it? You met them and now they know and they’re rejecting me before they’ve even met me.”

“No, Katsuki, that’s not it. I admit, your mother thinks she spotted the Mark yesterday, but how long has it been since she’s last seen it? I didn’t get a good look of it, to be honest and I asked your mother not to interfere. I did think she understood where I was coming from. And I told the girl the same thing. She didn’t want to know, actually. Put her hand on Mitsuki’s mouth to stop her from talking.”

“Wow,” Katsuki chuckles. “That takes guts. But… her name-”

“Don’t.” Masaru shakes his head. “Don’t ask me for it. That’s not who you are. If you want to meet them, find out for yourselves if there’s something there, just come visit us at work more often. I’ll make sure to shut off the A.C. so everyone’s running around with less clothes on.”

Katsuki’s half through a chuckle when it hits him. At work. His father said “at work”.

You’re working for him. You’re working with him, too, because you saw the Pictures he has on his table. Could it be?

“What if-” He hesitates. “What if the girl I’m interested in is my Soulmate? But she’s into Izuku?”

“How will you know if you don’t ask?”

“I can’t just ask her,” Katsuki glares at him. Why doesn’t he understand? “We’re having a good thing going on. If I ask her and she realizes I’m into her but she’s not my Soulmate nor shares the feeling, she’d probably move out. And you know what a hassle it is to get a roommate I don’t want to kill on their first day.”

“What if you ask her and she is your Soulmate?”

“What if she’s my Soulmate and she’s into Izuku?”

Masaru’s face softens. “Izuku has the uncanny ability to be liked by all, but that doesn’t mean everyone loves him too, does it?”

His words feel like a punch in the gut and Katsuki involuntarily sucks in a breath of air, trying to gather himself. 

“Look,” Masaru puts his hand on his shoulder, rubs the tight muscle there. “You’re brave. You’re smart. You’re confident. Even if you get stuck in the same situation as Izuku, bound to a Soulmate who’s not yet sure if she loves you, you’ll go about it differently. Because you’re Katsuki Bakugo. You’re not afraid to break something if it means building something else.”

Katsuki groans. “That’s a stupid pep talk.”

“Maybe. But it’s the truth. I’m going to leave now, because your Mother will surely wonder where I’ve gone to in the middle of the morning. You know what you have to do. You just have to be brave enough to do it.”

- x -

“Katsuki?” You pick up the Call, heart already racing. He’s never called you at work before and you’re just glad that you took Lunch a little earlier, now left alone in the spacious Open Office without anyone listening in.

“Hey.” His voice sounds rough, but not worse than it did in the morning. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“So…” He falls quiet for a second and you check if the Call’s still connected. “I have a friend.”

“Uhuh?”

“Well, this friend has had a rough childhood, so he’s not the best at emoting, but he’s found a girl he likes and that likes him back. In Highschool, too. Highschool Sweetheart, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, they graduate, move in with each other, all that jazz, until his Soulmark gets leaked on Public Television. He’s not bad looking, I assume, because soon, People all over the Country claim to be his Soulmate. The girl he’s with definitely isn’t, but they’re happy, you know.”

“Oh no.” You already know where this is going. 

“Yeah.” Another heavy pause.

“Well, one Girl is so convincing, he leaves his girlfriend for her. Because that’s his Soulmate, right? Well, turns out, three months into their relationship, that she’s not. It’s a very convincing tattoo, if anything, and she’s definitely mentally unstable. But hey, he thinks, he can still go back to his girlfriend, right? The one he still loves, who still loves him?”

“She found her own Soulmate, didn’t she?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “It’s a friend of the couple, actually. His Soulmate got destroyed in an accident, but there are pictures of it and it’s clear as day that they’re Soulmates. So now whe have three people who’re not sure how to deal with this. Do the actual Soulmates date even though they never thought about each other like that before? Or do the two people date that have feelings for each other until maybe, one day, they fall in love with their actual Soulmates? It’s a mess, really.”

“So, your friend-” You wonder if he’s taking about himself. He can’t, really. His Soulmark never got leaked. You don’t remember anything glaringly public about the other people from the Mario Kart Tournament either, besides Izuku, who’s Soulmark- Who’s Soulmark got destroyed. Oh. Oh.

“I just talked to him. He’s seeing someone at the moment. It’s still pretty fresh. She doesn’t have a Soulmark.” 

“What about you?” You ask, biting into the side of your thumb.

Katsuki falls quiet again.

“What about you?” He asks instead.

You swallow thickly. Do you tell him? About his parents and your mark and his brother and-

“Ah, there you are!” You flinch at the loud noise, turning. Bakugo Mitsuki’s marching through the Office, her eyes set on you.

“I’ll call you back later, okay?!” You rush out, heart racing for a whole different reason, fumbling to hang up. “Yes, Bakugo-san?”

“We’re in the middle of a Photoshoot and the Jewelry we got is wrong. Could you race over to Ace.3 and get the correct set? It’s just a few blocks down, the location on Fifth Street. They know someone’s coming.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You’re almost shaking as you grab your things. “Do I take an Uber or the Metro? I’ve never been there before.”

“Take the Metro. Traffic is usually slammed at this time of the day.” 

She hands you a folder. “Everything you need is in there. Don’t lose the Company Credit Card. Oh…” She turns back around. “You should really rethink your opinion on this Soulmate thing.”

“Thank you.” You bite out. “But not right now.”

She huffs, clearly annoyed by the answer. “Whatever. I’ll be coming back to it.”

- x -

Katsuki’s glaring at the wall of his office, trying not to melt the phone in his hand with some well aimed explosions. Why does his mother always have the worst timing?

His phone pings with an incoming message.

“I’m on public transport now, so I don’t feel comfortable talking on the phone, but can we talk about this tonight? There’s something I want to tell you.”

His heart lurches into a sprint but he manages to calm down with the breathing technique Best Jeanist taught him all those years ago.

Tonight. He can wait until tonight.

Still. Time has never moved so slowly.

“Hey,” Kirishima appears in the open door to his office. “I’m going on patrol. Do you want to join me?”

“Yeah, why not.” He pushes himself out of his chair. At least that will give him something else to think about. “What district are we doing today?”

“Inner City. You know those fancy stores in fifth and sixth street? It’s never wrong to let the bad guys know we have an eye on it.”

Katsuki agrees quietly, slipping into his outfit. It’s been quite some time since he’s had to properly fight someone. Has it really been a month already since that knife accident?

-

He can smell all the way down to sixth street as they get out of the car.

“Fire?” He asks, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

“Probably.” Kirishima adds, moving through all the channels on his radio. The last one mentions the attack.

“Ace.3, Fifth Street, a group of three or four assailants. They are all armed as well as Quirk Users,” Kirishima rattles off as they jog down the street, waving fleeing pedestrians to the side.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary, really. Robberies, especially with a High End Jeweller like Ace.3 still offer good money if you’re in and out fast enough.

They catch the first one of the group at the door. One of the store clerks is clutching her leg, her face ashen.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Katsuki breathes into her ear, using Kirishima as a living shield while he does his best to stop the bleeding. He’s just about ready to drag her out of the store when RealSteel pounds through the door, his partner Phantom Thief right on his heels. 

“You take her,” he tells RealSteel. “Get her out of here. There are three more stories and the basement.”

“I’ll take care of it downstairs,” Phantom Thief offers, grinning. “Care to lend me a hand?” His outstretched hand is more like a taunt than a plea but Katsuki grabs it nonetheless. Monoma’s a good fighter when he wants to be, even if he’s still an asshole most of the time.

It makes more sense that the bigger fish are going to be downstairs, but something, whatever it is, is urging Katsuki to check upstairs.

“You two, downstairs,” he tells Kirishima and Monoma. “Be careful. I’ll check upstairs and follow you. RealSteel should follow you down as well.”

“Are you sure?” Kirishima asks.

“Do I look unsure?” He barks back, already taking two steps at a time.

-

It’s like stepping into a dream.

Flakes of Ash are flowing through the air like snowflakes. Upturned tables and chairs make it hard to navigate the room, but he’s on it, moving through the Chaos.

Katsuki spots a leg first, lifts the desk you must have tried to hide under.

Your face is covered in soot, your features barely recognizable. But he knows you. Even without all those dreams, he knows you. You’re his Soulmate. Always have been, always will be.

He sinks to his knees at your side. “Wake up,” he begs you, his heart hammering in his throat. “Wake up.” 

But as he moves to cradle your head, his hands go straight through it and the illusion vanishes.

He freezes, heart in his throat.

“Katsuki?” Your voice is raspy, a little breathless. “Is that you?”

“Where are you?” He turns, tries to spot you in the chaos. 

“In the corner. Be careful.”

He moves through the mess, not sure what he’s supposed to be careful about.

But there you are, pinned to the floor by a heavy desk, your face a grimace of pain.

“Hey,” he lifts it carefully, pushes it to the side as best he can. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Harharhar,” You laugh humorlessly, pain audible in your voice. “Your mom’s going to kill me.”

“For what? Surviving a robbery?”

“I already got the jewelry she asked for but I lost it.”

“You lost-” He snorts through his nose, disbelief covering every word. “Do you really think that’s important right now?”

“Isn’t it?” You cough again. “There are four of them. Did you get them all? One of them followed me up here to get my stuff as well. I don’t know if they’re still arou-” You shriek, just in time to alert him. He whirls around, one grenadecovered arm pulled up as a shield - the bullets ricochet off it and sink into the walls around. 

The attacker is a guy with yellowed fangs and papery skin. He’s breathing harshly. 

“Knew she wasn’t dead yet,” he all but purrs, a sound so strangely wrong coming from him. “Now give me the real stuff and nobody gets hurt.”

“Drop the weapon and you’ll at least get out of here alive,” Katsuki snarls back, eyes moving through the room. The guy’s got a tail, which could mean he’s got a similar Quirk to Ojiro. But the teeth could also mean something poisonous. It’s all about the movements, too, though the guy won’t move.

In the end, that’s what brings him down. Arms of steel curl around his gangly body, lifting him up from the floor. 

“You’re coming with me!” RealSteel declares, crushing the gun in one hand. “You good, Dynamight?”

“Just peachy,” he snarls back, a little pissed that he didn’t get to fight. But he’s got better things to do anyway.

“The real stuff?” He asks, carefully lifting you off the ground. 

You smile through the pain. “I might not be your mother’s best employe, but I’m pretty good at imitation.”

He tries to snort, the sound catching halfway in his throat when his hand comes back wet from your shoulder.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It looks worse than it is,” you tell him, but he shakes his head, his heart hammering like a humming bird. 

“Let me see.”

“No, it’s- it’s right above my Soulmark.”

Katsuki stills, your body in his arms, his heart in your hands.

“Listen-” His voice sounds harsher than it should, given the occasion. “I already know you’re my Soulmate. Just let me check your shoulder before you bleed out on me… Please.” He adds, because he can be polite when he wants to.

You let out something that sounds like a sob but you lean forward, allow him access to the area.

It really is just a nasty cut, slicing off one corner of the Mark. And even though he didn’t need to check after today, the sight of it still blows him away.

It’s there. Visible, touchable proof. You’re his. If you want to, that is.

-

He’s never hated Protocol more than today.

Because he needs to stay behind for Questioning and Paperwork, unable to see you off properly. Your cut has been treated by the paramedics that arrived on the scene and if there are worse injuries he’ll only find out later, when he gets to talk to you in the privacy of his, your home.

“You okay?” Kirishima walks over to where he’s standing, teeth grinding as he waits.

“Just peachy.”

“Listen, I know you hate when other teams get all the fight but-”

“She’s my Soulmate,” he blurts out, maybe a little too loud because a few people turn their heads. He glares until they turn back around.

Kirishima grins. “I knew it,” he says, sounding just a tad bit smug. “Didn’t I? I knew it.”

“Yeah, well, don’t be so happy about it,” Katsuki argues, the old fear griping for his heart. “I think she’s into Izuku.”

“Into Izu-” Kirishima laughs. “What in the world makes you think that?”

“Well there’s that one moment when they were in the kitchen-”

Kirishima’s shaking his head. “Look, I’m not a girl. You’re not a girl. We can and will misunderstand what they mean. But if Mina tells me that your roommate is head over heels in love with you, I do believe her. After all, has Mina ever been wrong?”

“She can’t always be right.”

“It’s Mina,” Kirishima grins. “She might as well.”

- x -

“Hey!” You greet him from the Couch when he steps through the door, a cup of tea in your hand. 

“Hey,” he drops his bag right at the door, kicks his shoes off and waltzes over, completely un-Katsuki-like. “How are you? Any more injuries? Did they give you a proper check-up? Tell me you went home right after!”

“Relax,” you laugh, cringing when it hurts. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” You put the tea away, sit up a little straighter.

“I’ve got a fractured rib from the Desk falling on me and should take it easy the next few weeks. I can work but your Dad asked me to go through Trauma Counselling, just in case. I did come home right after delivering the jewelry, so I hope you’re happy.”

“This isn’t about me being happy,” he snarls.

“I know, I know. But…” You look away, suddenly feeling awkward. “You said… You said you knew I was your Soulmate. How?”

All tension leaves him with one single breath. He all but falls into the cushions.

“I… I used to get really vivid dreams. Always the same scenario, me walking into that room, the ash flying around, you pinned under that desk. I never recognized your face but that moment was pretty self-explanatory.”

“Oh.” You swallow harshly. “But you… But you had a hunch, right? That’s why you were trying to talk about it earlier. On the phone, I mean?”

“Yeah, kind off.” He’s staring into the distance now. “I just… I have feelings for you. And I wanted you to know. Because maybe you don’t. Have feelings for me, I mean. Which is fine, you know, it doesn’t have to be. I told you, my friends-”

“I do have feelings for you,” you declare boldly, putting a hand on his knee. Katsuki stiffens, his face now almost as red as a fire-engine.

“But you asked Izuku about his Soulmate…”

“Yeah, because your Mom said that he’s my Soulmate. Well, she didn’t say it, but it sounded like-”

“What the hell?” Katsuki’s brows are furrowed that way again and you fear for his head. “Why would she say that? She knows my Soulmark and nosy as she is, she probably already knows that he’s found his Soulmate.”

“Yeah, but I heard her say to your Dad ‘This is about your son!’ so I figured she was talking about Izuku!”

Katsuki looks almost catatonic now.

“Why?” He asks, teeth grinding. “Would you think that… Izuku… is my Dad’s son?”

“Because he…” You’re waving your hand’s around as if that would help you. “Well, he said… he said something that sounded like… Isn’t he your half-brother?”

“No,” his voice is deathly silent now. “You thought Izuku was your Soulmate? Why not me?”

Oh. Well. 

“I didn’t want to assume,” you whisper, ashamed of your own reasoning. “Because you’re you and I didn’t want to be greedy.”

“I thought you were into him,” Katsuki whispers back, cradling your head in his hands. “Do you know how much I worried about this?”

“That panic attack!” Your heart drops at the realization. “You felt when I tried to reject the bond!”

“Why would you even do that?” Katsuki cries. 

“Because I wanted you,” you blurt out, a little less ashamed of that truth now that all the others are out in the open. “Not some Soulmate. Not Izuku. I just… I just wanted you.”

His head sinks forward, his temple pressed against yours.

“Never do that again,” he begs, his hands shaken where they’re holding you. “Promise.”

“Promise,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him. 

-

You wake up with Katsuki’s arm slung around your shoulders, your back pressed against his chest. He runs hot and he snores a little, like a kitten.

Nonetheless your rib hurts from lying on the side and you need to pee, so you move to untangle yourself from him.

“What?!” He rasps immediately, his lips pressed against your ear.

“I need to pee.”

“Tough luck, keep it in.”

“I’m going to piss in your bed,” you threaten and he lifts his arm. 

“If you’re not back here in five minutes I’m coming to get you.”

You snort at the threat and slip out of bed, down the hallway and into the bathroom.

A part of you wants to grab your phone and text Ami. Truth be told you have quite a lot to tell her. But the rest of you just want to slip back into bed and cuddle into this human space heater that you can now call yours. After you’ve gotten a sip of water, that is.

“Five minutes are over,” Katsuki growls, leaning shirtless and heavy against the doorframe. “You’ve got five seconds.”

“Here,” you press the glass of cool water against his lips. “Don’t be grouchy.”

“‘m not grouchy,” he defends himself, pulling you in. “I just want to sleep.”

“Grouchy,” you repeat, kissing his cheek. “You’re lucky I like that.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” he responds, slipping back into bed.

“Can’t sleep on my side,” you remind him when he turns to spoon you.

“Oh,” he huffs for a moment before turning on his back. It’s hard to tell in the dark but you think he’s blushing. “You want to sleep on my chest?”

“Well, if you’re asking…” You can tell that he’s flustered the second you rest your head, the thunder of his racing heart now directly below your ear.

“I’m here,” you remind him, rubbing a hand over it. “I’m here.”

“I’m not worried,” he says and you spot the lie from a mile away.

“I know.”

[cruyuu]

Oh my god thank you SO much for your last analysis in response to my ask jfkfbwksk

How do you ALWAYS deliver on the feels??

And I have to say, your analyses really shine a new light on Yuuji’s character (and the SukuIta dynamic) in a way that makes Yuuji even MORE tragic to me??

Because quite literally, Yuuji really has NO equal in the story when it comes to selflessness and mindset. In fact, considering just how overwhelmingly SELFISH the world of JJK is, I’d argue that it’s YUUJI who may be the loneliest in the entire series because it is HIS mindset/morality that would be the most alien to virtually everyone else in the series

In the JJK world, where everyone is apathetic to the common good and prioritizes themselves and the people they happen to care about over the rest of the world, and where doing so is legitimately seen as MORAL, Yuuji’s selflessness is the one who seems the most incomprehensible to everyone else. I think this is best seen in how everyone aside from Yuuji views civilian deaths

For instance, when Geto started murdering civilians en masse, characters like Gojo, Nanami, etc were like “ok, he has to be stopped because he’s a tad bit extreme, but he’s still bbg who did nothing wrong and who was very likely correct uwu and he’s actually maybe a tragic heroic figure??” and weren’t upset at him at all for planning to kill so many human beings. Heck, Yuta only got upset with Geto the moment he started threatening Maki, someone he happened to care about

Likewise, even with freak characters like Kenjaku, he’s still understood by people like Yuki and Geto, who share his morality/views/etc

Also, when it comes to Sukuna, even though he’s a literal sadistic cannibal who loves to torture, kill, and eat humans for fun, the cast doesn’t really seem to be all that upset over it and even admire him, feel sympathy/sorrow for him and solidarity with him, seek his approval, and want to reach him with love. The only reason why they even take a stand against him is not because of the threat he poses to humanity, but the threat he poses to jujutsu sorcerers. Yuuji is the ONLY one who is morally bothered by the fact that Sukuna is, you know, EVIL and seeks to subject humanity to his sadistic whims

And during the Shibuya Incident, everyone aside from Yuuji is very nonchalant about civilian death. Gojo, Mei Mei, etc are very blasé about seeing civilians getting brutally murdered or threatened right before their very eyes. Megumi canonically doesn’t care about the masses and only cares for a very select group of people. Heck, him summoning Mahoraga was basically him knowingly screwing over the entire civilian population of Shibuya. Yes, the other characters grieved, but they only grieved for the losses of the people they happened to care about. Yuuji was the ONLY ONE who was devastated over the losses of not only his friends, but over the deaths of the thousands of civilians as well. Heck, the idea that Yuuji could possibly be also upset over the loss of thousands of innocent civilians probably never even crossed their minds since the kind of morality needed to care about civilians is just THAT foreign to them. And ironically enough, the only person who seems to realize that Yuuji would be upset over civilian deaths is SUKUNA, who specifically switched with Yuuji at the last second to see the crater because he knew it would devastate Yuuji to witness the deaths of so many people. Yuuji’s closest companions in the series don’t understand him, but Sukuna does

I mean, in the same way that Gojo, Kashimo, etc tried and failed to reach Sukuna, Mahito (the only one who attempted to do so with Yuuji) tried and failed to reach Yuuji with all of his “we are the same” talk as well. Because although there may be very superficial similarities between them, in the same way that Gojo, Kashimo, etc share superficial similarities with Sukuna while still ultimately not being alike at all where it truly matters, Mahito and Yuuji are ultimately DIFFERENT in the sense that Mahito acts out of his own selfish desires while Yuuji is entirely driven by selflessness. They are not the same at all, and Yuuji is, once again, entirely alone

While Yuuji’s companions (Megumi, Gojo, Choso, etc) don’t understand him, Sukuna, the man who ruined his life, DOES, and that’s something that Yuuji quite possibly has to viciously deny to himself lest it tears him apart inside

Fjskjdks

Hello again anon!

I'm happy to hear that you like my analyses! I am always more than willing to provide for us Yuuji fans. My acc is heavily oriented towards sukuita and Yuuji and Sukuna individually even if I do like all characters.

Now, to properly answer your ask.

Yes, Yuuji is a very tragic character. In fact, the way he views the world is really too idealistic and the way he adapts to it is really fascinating to me because you would think that this guy would start becoming more selfish as time passes (after all, it is logical for him to do so) but instead he just continues fading away and accepts his role as a "side character", still blaming himself for everything. Yes, the fight against Mahito changes him, but not too abruptly. His naivety and cheerfulness are gone from his face, but they are still there from time to time.

For a story such as jjk, this is perfect, however. It suits him to be someone who is in the back lines. The truth is that Yuuji is considered "weak", someone who wasn't from the three great clans nor someone who could ever grasp cursed energy. Someone who wasn't born special. Someone who wasn't born a jujutsu sorcerer. It is logical for him to be treated by the story as such. Even when it's revealed that he's one of Kenjaku's creations, he's still dismissed by them and called "a thing". He's just a pawn for a greater scheme— for bringing back Sukuna. He remains an underdog even after a great ancestry reveal that usually brings main characters in shonen great importance and skyrockets them to the heights of the main villains. Makes them terribly powerful. And don't even get me started how the narrative casually brushes over this fact and how we were robbed of Kenjaku interacting with Yuuji (😭). It really is painful to be a Yuuji fan tbh

Yuuji still remains quietly ignored which I can't help but admire because if Gege did pull that move and made him so terribly important and capable of spamming Blood Manipulation out of nowhere and could easily knock down Sukuna, I would be very ready to leave jjk behind.

Still, even if I call Yuuji weak (kinda like the story itself does), I do not consider him weak at all. His physical prowess as well as speed makes him already leagues above your average human. People who really do consider Yuuji weak do so for very stupid reasons. Because Yuuji doesn't have a domain, nor a cool, science-defying, earth shattering lowkey OP signature CT. Instead, he gets Sukuna's copy which is ridiculed to hell and back by Sukuna (and some fans of jjk). He's not cool by shonen standards at all. This just makes me love him more because usually, in shonen, what would happen to the protagonists is that their power would begin to overshadow their progress as characters. It'll no longer matter if they stay boringly same with the same old "I'll beat you, kill you" whatever, because just look at how strong they are! I am deeply against basic and bland characterization because it's really so unsatisfying and doesn't make you dwell much nor remember the character. They become shallow and stale because power isn't everything, there has to be something else there as well. I could find it cool for a while before it'll start to get on my nerves because what is there to like outside these abilities? What else is there about the character?

Part of Yuuji's charm is how human he is. Amongst the big cool jujutsu sorcerers who all have these amazing, flashy cursed techniques and can tear down mountains, Yuuji fights with his fists and with the simplest technique there is which is just channeling cursed energy into his punches. Even if he gets Blood Manipulation, he's still slowly adapting to it and isn't an outright expert on it. I really adore how hard working he is, really. I love how hard work pays off for him because it is way more satisfying than seeing something unnatural– like Yuuji suddenly being capable of channeling cursed energy into a punch which tears apart enemies completely and crashes several buildings consequently OR he starts throwing meteorites or something lol. Even if jjk is highly unrealistic, I admire the realism of Yuuji.

Still, funnily enough, as much as he's dismissed and constantly suffers through the story, he still isn't completely out of the picture.

He's not really erased. He's just quietly there, going with the motions. And how strange it is— like, a boy wearing the same face as one of the main antagonists, born from the secondary antagonist, yet dragging himself behind all the side characters placing his trust into them because he views them as strong and more powerful. Isn't it contradictory? I lament the fact Yuuji isn't liked by the fandom and more noticed but instead it is the total opposite. Still, seeing how most butcher even the simplest character's characterization (for example Gojo), I am happy he isn't that popular. I lowkey really hope it stays that way tbh. I would hate to wake up to nonsensical power scaling arguments or awful theories that don't suit Yuuji's character.

Most do tend to say jjk is a story that spans over many character's lives but I disagree. In each and every work there is always a main character— the one who you're introduced to right at the start of the story. The one who sets off the events that will follow. That is Yuuji, not anyone else.

How do you ALWAYS deliver on the feels?? And I have to say, your analyses really shine a new light on Yuuji’s character (and the SukuIta dynamic) in a way that makes Yuuji even MORE tragic to me??

Thank you, anon! It pains me that the majority don't like the sukuita dynamic, how it's overlooked by everyone and dismissed as meaningless or less worthy in a way because these two really have it all. I am here to prove those haters wrong and prove that reducing these two to just "shipping incest/liking problematic content" is the most horrible take to ever come out of this fandom. I am here to offer a fresh perspective and say exactly why they're so well liked and shipped in the first place. Not because of the problematic age gap or the fact that they're kinda related (which they aren't really but I do accept that as real at times for jokes tbh), but because both of them have been given a lot of narrative importance and singled out as characters who do not have an equal yet funnily do have an equal in a form of each other.

This fifteen year old boy who can't do anything can do everything because of this old curse who's supposed to be the epitome of evil, meanwhile this epitome of evil gets to experience life all over again because of this weakling who's better off dead (who despite being weak and made for the purpose of being a vessel can still actively suppress him lmfao). It's so bizarre and funny yet so sad when you think about it because both are perfect punishment and wish fulfillment for each other.

They're downright perfectly made for each other, yet realistically won't ever, ever acknowledge each other. It's so, so tragic. Believe me these two never fail to bring me to tears considering that everything they've ever wanted lies in each other.

It's so painful that Yuuji could find more solace, common ground and understanding in the very same thing that hurt him over and over again, yet someone like Sukuna can only find an equal in someone he finds pathetic and irrelevant. They could never see eye to eye because even if they compliment each other, the very thing that makes them who they are as characters forbids them for acknowledging each other and that's something which is sad on a whole another level.

I feel like they're terrified of acknowledging it because that would really be the death of them— that someone who you hate from the bottom of your heart is the one who checks all boxes to what you're looking for.

Yuuji really has NO equal in the story when it comes to selflessness and mindset. In fact, considering just how overwhelmingly SELFISH the world of JJK is, I’d argue that it’s YUUJI who may be the loneliest in the entire series because it is HIS mindset/morality that would be the most alien to virtually everyone else in the series In the JJK world, where everyone is apathetic to the common good and prioritizes themselves and the people they happen to care about over the rest of the world, and where doing so is legitimately seen as MORAL, Yuuji’s selflessness is the one who seems the most incomprehensible to everyone else. I think this is best seen in how everyone aside from Yuuji views civilian deaths.

Yep! Yuuji is actually the loneliest in the entire series because every character in this manga is a total opposite to who he is. Even another kind character that seems to be a mirror to Yuuji still can't act as a mirror because he seems terribly selfish when compared to Yuuji.

Yuuji is really the one who pays attention to every living thing, not just the people he knows. He really is terribly, and some would say unrealistically, selfless. Hell, Yuuji had a mental breakdown after seeing the carnage he didn't cause and blamed himself (undeservingly) for something which Sukuna actually caused. He even admits this to Higuruma and it really stuns him because Yuuji's viewpoint is plainly absurd because everyone knows that death brought by other's hand isn't your own. Yuuji doesn't believe in that. He made Sukuna his responsibility, and hence whenever he gets out, Yuuji blames himself. For not being strong enough to suppress him, for being weak. He blames himself instead of blaming this evil curse that dwells in him.

Yuuji isn't faking his kindness, nor is he doing this to gain sympathy and be spared, he's just himself. This combined with the fact that yes, nearly all of the cast of jjk are actually selfish, already make him stand out. Already make him special. But Yuuji, again, isn't doing this for any ulterior motives, he just wishes to help.

For instance, when Geto started murdering civilians en masse, characters like Gojo, Nanami, etc were like “ok, he has to be stopped because he’s a tad bit extreme, but he’s still bbg who did nothing wrong and who was very likely correct uwu and he’s actually maybe a tragic heroic figure??” and weren’t upset at him at all for planning to kill so many human beings. Heck, Yuta only got upset with Geto the moment he started threatening Maki, someone he happened to care about Likewise, even with freak characters like Kenjaku, he’s still understood by people like Yuki and Geto, who share his morality/views/etc

Not only the narrative, anon, but do not forget that the fandom itself also behaves that way. They tend to forget that characters like Geto are not really good and actually pretty vile but— like most of Geto's ex-friends— shrug it off as not really that important. It actually gets on my nerves because the amount of times I've seen Geto being characterized, him being an extremist hell-bent on wiping out humans isn't acknowledged. I can understand liking a character but if you like them then you have to acknowledge their wrongdoings and who they really are. Like I love Sukuna but do I try to wipe his characterization and headcanon him into someone who's good? No. He's bad, he kills people and eats them as a hobby. He's a vile monster. It's not that hard to admit lol. Let villains be villains please!

Not only does Yuta get upset over Geto not because of him being a danger to society, but he goes against Kenjaku personally all because "Gojo shouldn't kill his best friend again :(". First off, that is Kenjaku who's in that body, not Gojo's best friend. Geto had been dead for a long, long while and yet Kenjaku- just because they're a brain who jumps into corpses- always gets dismissed by everyone (which really makes you think... about their coupling with Jin...).

Also, it's funny to me really how the kind Yuta doesn't acknowledge that the best friend in question killed and wanted to annihilate all normal humans. If he's kind wouldn't he dwell more deeply on it and consider it good that he's dead at the end of the day because his ideology means the death of humans? I mean Yuta used to be a regular human before he was shipped off to Jujutsu High so I find it funny how that's completely glossed over by him.

Also, when it comes to Sukuna, even though he’s a literal sadistic cannibal who loves to torture, kill, and eat humans for fun, the cast doesn’t really seem to be all that upset over it and even admire him, feel sympathy/sorrow for him and solidarity with him, seek his approval, and want to reach him with love. The only reason why they even take a stand against him is not because of the threat he poses to humanity, but the threat he poses to jujutsu sorcerers. Yuuji is the ONLY one who is morally bothered by the fact that Sukuna is, you know, EVIL and seeks to subject humanity to his sadistic whims

Yes, you're right! Even I, as a Sukuna fan myself, am kinda baffled how Sukuna being evil isn't an issue to most characters. To them, his strength is all that matters. He's considered as this "strongest jujutsu sorcerer" and not someone who poses an active threat not only to jujutsu sorcerers but humanity at large. Again, Yuuji is the only one who calls him evil, who asks him why he (and curses in general) cannot live without causing suffering. Not only to jujutsu sorcerers, but all people in general.

And during the Shibuya Incident, everyone aside from Yuuji is very nonchalant about civilian death. Gojo, Mei Mei, etc are very blasé about seeing civilians getting brutally murdered or threatened right before their very eyes. Megumi canonically doesn’t care about the masses and only cares for a very select group of people. Heck, him summoning Mahoraga was basically him knowingly screwing over the entire civilian population of Shibuya. Yes, the other characters grieved, but they only grieved for the losses of the people they happened to care about. Yuuji was the ONLY ONE who was devastated over the losses of not only his friends, but over the deaths of the thousands of civilians as well. Heck, the idea that Yuuji could possibly be also upset over the loss of thousands of innocent civilians probably never even crossed their minds since the kind of morality needed to care about civilians is just THAT foreign to them. And ironically enough, the only person who seems to realize that Yuuji would be upset over civilian deaths is SUKUNA, who specifically switched with Yuuji at the last second to see the crater because he knew it would devastate Yuuji to witness the deaths of so many people. Yuuji’s closest companions in the series don’t understand him, but Sukuna does

And again, I completely agree with you anon!

The only one who strangely acknowledges the devastation he caused is Sukuna and he switches with Yuuji so he could "enjoy the view" all so he could chuckle over Yuuji as he collapses to his knees and has a mental breakdown. It's funny how someone like Sukuna, who enjoys carnage and revels in battles, is satisfied enough to stop right there in front of the view of a decimated Shibuya when he is supposed to be this evil bastard that usually won't notice nor would care do that. Oh but Yuuji is special. He knows that it'll hurt him, that it'll devastate him because he's a kind soul who cares for everyone, not just jujutsu sorcerers.

I mean, in the same way that Gojo, Kashimo, etc tried and failed to reach Sukuna, Mahito (the only one who attempted to do so with Yuuji) tried and failed to reach Yuuji with all of his “we are the same” talk as well. Because although there may be very superficial similarities between them, in the same way that Gojo, Kashimo, etc share superficial similarities with Sukuna while still ultimately not being alike at all where it truly matters, Mahito and Yuuji are ultimately DIFFERENT in the sense that Mahito acts out of his own selfish desires while Yuuji is entirely driven by selflessness. They are not the same at all, and Yuuji is, once again, entirely alone

In the fight against Mahito, Yuuji already stated why they aren't the same even if stating they are. It's all right there in the panels— the glaring difference is all up in your nose if you know how to look:

The reason Mahito gets downright terrified of Yuuji here is because he senses pure killing intent. As if Yuuji really isn't human but a true curse. It's funny that a cursed spirit could fear a human, because curses are supposed to be guided by everything bad and therefore you would think that Mahito would match Yuuji's energy, think that this is exciting. But nope.

For someone who is as kind as Yuuji, seeing him embracing the anger and all negative emotions, is actually terrifying to Mahito for simple reasons. First, Yuuji is completely selfless and often looks to save people (even curses), but for the first time, he wishes to kill for no reason at all which is exactly like how a curse would think. Second, most curses (unlike Sukuna), are guided by human reasons (see Jogo) and are therefore leagues below Sukuna who takes pleasure in everything not because of other people, but because of himself.

The Yuuji vs. Mahito fight is directly tied to Sukuna vs. Jogo fight. Let me explain:

Humans fear death. Yet Yuuji is someone who doesn't fear death. He could easily embrace it if it means it is for a good cause. You could argue that Yuuji is selfish purely for that fact alone— that he's dead set on dying because of his selflessness. It sounds so contradictory but it makes sense lol. It separates him from other humans, as well as other curses, and puts him somewhere between a curse and a human.

Sukuna also spells out something interesting which directly ties into the reason why Yuuji wins in the Mahito fight:

What Yuuji did in the fight against Mahito is exactly what Sukuna was telling Jogo he lacked. Yuuji's wish is to kill curses only so he could end all misery they leave behind (which is like curses in a way– he has to kill to get the result and not really save or talk them down). Still, the one who softly nudges him into that realization is Sukuna himself, who is far worse than all curses combined. This is hinted at and not outright acknowledged because these two would never actively acknowledge each other, even if the narrative brings them together.

The misery that Yuuji feels after that sight pushes him to a breaking point, makes him detest himself but also makes him angry. Angry that he couldn't stop unnecessary death. All of that anger comes out against the fight with Mahito, because he considers him a curse, and he wishes to see them exterminated and wishes to see them dead. He grabs a hold of that desire and decimates Mahito's newly transfigured form, proving himself as someone even worse than Mahito because he has that selfish wish which is guided by his selflessness. He embraces evil for the sake of good, not for the sake of evil. Crying and blaming himself will not end curses, after all, and that's what he realized.

That's why Yuuji says they are the same, but they're still different. When Yuuji kills, he kills out of his inability to do anything else. Killing isn't the first thing on his mind. See how he usually talks down his opponents (hell, even Sukuna when he's in Megumi) and then settles on fighting? Only when he realizes there is no way, that is when he pushes himself to go all out.

Mahito cannot be the same as Yuuji, just as Sukuna cannot be the same as Jogo. Again, both Yuuji and Sukuna are singled out and funnily their fights end the complete opposite way to who they are. A human against a cursed spirit proves to be worse than a curse who doesn't care nor want to see his viewpoint but instead just wants him dead. Yuuji comes out as selfish. A curse against the cursed spirit proves to be really human by thinking of someone else and not himself and tries to see his viewpoint. Sukuna comes out as selfless.

It's fascinating, really.

You could argue that the real reason Sukuna actually showed him the sight of decimated Shibuya wasn't only to torture him, but to actively push him to a breaking point– strike him where it hurts the most– and cause unintended (to him) character development. After all, who else cares about other normal people unlike him? Who else sees Sukuna as evil and only evil? Who else is selfless? He proves that he knows who Yuuji is here and what would give him the motivation to fight. Not only his friends dying, the people he cares about, but regular people. He shows him what curses are all about, really, which is what opens his eyes and the hatred to see them gone (because of the damage they do) is enough to send a mirror of death to humans running away like a coward lmfao.

So yes, Yuuji is alone because, again, nobody in this story does stuff like he does it. Even if Mahito barks how same they are, Yuuji sends him running in fear, effectively proving him wrong even if he does say they are the same. It's the actions, not the words. Yuuji's soul remains unknown and not acknowledged. Again, just like someone else's 🤭

While Yuuji’s companions (Megumi, Gojo, Choso, etc) don’t understand him, Sukuna, the man who ruined his life, DOES, and that’s something that Yuuji quite possibly has to viciously deny to himself lest it tears him apart inside

Yep. People who care for Yuuji can't even make sense of him yet the selfish, vile, cannibal and murderer curse can. How illogical, huh. How sad and horrible.

The only way these two can acknowledge each other is if they actively learned about each other, which they kind of are. Sukuna's becoming way more selfless and Yuuji is growing more selfish. After all, they are learning through each other of something they think is impossible and they have to embrace that otherwise, like Kenjaku said, nothing will be solved and history will repeat. The conflict between them is proved to be quite, quite important to the entire story.

On that note tho, Kenjaku really is a perfect villain because they understood the assignment and that's why they created Yuuji lmfao. Even if people love to say they didn't care for their creation, and even if Kenjaku calls Yuuji a thing, they still go to Sasaki (one of Yuuji's high school friend) and thank her for being there for their son (yep! son!) while actively ignoring all other creations of theirs (Choso did say that Kenjaku ignored them for 150 years which... ouch). So, does Kenjaku really not care? I don't think so!

I'm afraid Yuuji's power is unrivaled. No matter how much people fight against him and reject him, they end up falling in love with him. No matter how much the story itself is against him, he's the only one who can bring an ending to it <3

[alex51324]

So I finally got around to reading the Gideon the Ninth/Locked Tomb series, which is awesome, and I have a number of observations, but let’s start with this: 

HERE BE SPOILERS!!  Big ones.  Up through Nona the Ninth.

I’ve seen John Gaius’s villain arc summed up as “he got mad and destroyed the solar system because they didn’t use his plan to save Earth/humanity.”  But the actual story, as I understand it, is way more relatable than that.  

I mean, here’s what I understood to have happened:  First, he’s involved in a plan to save humanity from extinction.  Said plan struggles to get funding and resources, until eventually it is put on hold.  (And he develops superpowers.)  Eventually, the Powers That Be reveal the replacement plan to save humanity from extinction, and it has...big, obvious holes in it.  Just does not pass the sniff test.  JG points this out, but nobody pays any attention.  (Meanwhile, he starts attracting more attention for his superpowers.  However, this does not result in any attention for his central message, i.e., “The newly-revised plan to save humanity from extinction is shady as fuck.”)

So he goes about collecting evidence for the shadiness of the New Plan.  Just reams of evidence showing that there is no possible way that there could possibly be enough FTL ships built in time to save more than a tiny fraction of the population.  He tries showing this evidence to world leaders.  He tries showing it to the general public.  (Meanwhile, the powers-that-be have started getting scared of his superpowers; in response he explodes some cows.)   He comes right out and says, “Hey, this small group of extremely rich people are conning the entire world into building & paying for a lifeboat that is only ever going to be big enough for them, and that’s super fucked-up.”

But  the people with seats in the lifeboat say, “That’s the guy who exploded those cows that one time, and cows have feelings.”

And everybody falls for it.  Nobody can be persuaded to care that 99.9% of humanity is going to be left to die, but there is plenty of outrage available for that herd of cows he exploded.  Every time he tries to show his evidence--large amounts of hard and extremely convincing evidence--that there is no second wave of lifeboats (much less any more after that), all anyone wants to talk about is the cows.  

He keeps on attempting to Reveal The Truth up until the lifeboats are on the launching pads and the countdown is starting.  Then, and only then, he goes, “OK, so apparently you only listen to cartoonishly evil supervillains, I can work with that” and starts cackling evilly and waving a nuclear bomb around.  

But the powers-that-be somehow guess that at this point he’s only posing as a cartoonishly evil supervillain at this point, so it doesn’t work, and finally, when it becomes clear that it’s now too late for any rational means of persuasion to work, he flips over to actually being a supervillain.

And man, as supervillain origin stories go, I just find that super-relatable.  

Disclaimer: obviously killing the entire solar system and everyone in it is bad!  And  pursuing a 10,000 year campaign of vengeance against the distant descendants of the people who conned the rest of humanity into building them a lifeboat and then left them (the rest of humanity) for dead is super fucked up. 

But.  If I were ever to go supervillain, it would probably be something like that.  I’ve had the experience of trying to show people that the course of action they’re pursuing is obviously and transparently worse, in all of the ways that they claim to care about than an alternative that they have rejected, and having them just...not care.  If I were given superpowers in the middle of such a situation, it would end badly, is what I’m saying.  

Anyway, I find that very impressive, writing-wise.  JG has obviously sailed way over the moral event horizon, and he’s kept on finding new ways to be evil after the whole genocide-starkiller thing, but the way he got there is a path I could very easily see myself going down.  

Looking back, I think the fundamental error was when he went from thinking, “They should listen to me because I have all this evidence,” to “they should listen to me because I could kill them with my magic powers.”  Everything else--for the next 10,000 years--kind of follows from that.  But I can’t be sure I wouldn’t make that mistake, if I A) was really mad, and B) had magic powers. 

[faelapis]

despite some concerns raised by the trailer/marketing, i am still excited for the wish movie. a lot of that has to do with king magnifico.

that being said, i approach it from a different direction than a lot of other people excited for a “classic disney villain.”

first of all, yes. i, too, love the camp and melodrama of classic disney villains. i love that they express their wishes through big bombastic musical numbers, and said musical numbers are often the best in their movies. i like how queer-coded and fun they often are. i like the sass, the drama, the energy.

where i disagree with a lot of people is with this notion that disney movies “don’t have villains” anymore. i don’t think the likes of hans (frozen) and tamatoa (moana) are less evil than "classic" villains - they’re plenty willing to kill with a smile on their face.

i think what people ACTUALLY miss is the big performance around it all. the aesthetic. someone who does these things while being a major character (so not tamatoa) and deliciously, obviously evil while having fun with it the whole time (so not hans). i think it’s that specific combination people are missing. we still have villains, they’re just either not as “fun” or not as “important.”

of course, that take is less punchy than saying disney doesn’t have villains because "steven cringeyverse destroyed western animation and now companies are too scared to make real villains >:( !1!!!"

yeah i never understood where that came from. if anything, redeeming villains is more controversial than killing them. especially in america, being punitive is the norm. forgiveness is cringe. yet so many act as if there was some big consumer and/or corporate pushback against the idea of villains…? at some point?? i guess????

someone must've forgotten to tell that to disney tv animation, where you’ll find everything from bill cipher to belos in the modern era. (also, other companies exist? dreamworks is not some indie studio, they’re fully willing to have big, campy villains.)

but yknow, people like to feel like underdogs. they like to feel like they're somehow oppressed because some animated media don't have classic villains anymore... despite there still being plenty around. you can’t just like villains, you have to make it everyone else’s problem. like disney is obliged to do the same character tropes in every movie. or villains are "dead."

what actually happened is just… some writers at disney decided they wanted to do different things. that’s it. so you now have a handful of movies where the villain is either a minor character, or nonexistent.

it’s not a conspiracy, it’s not a concerted effort to destroy villains. it’s, at most, a trend. because some writers wanted to push against the previous status quo. and now other writers who grew up with that want to have more classic villains, because that’s what they see as exciting and new. it’s just a cycle of trends and countertrends.

anyway. long tangent aside, i’m actually very excited for king magnifico. in part for a classic villain performance (he gets a song!!) - but also, it sounds like he might scratch a particular itch of mine.

which is to have a big, dramatic, irredeemable villain… who is still a human and has an understandable pov.

yes, you can combine these things. it’s not common for disney, but a lot of what we consider “great movie villains” throughout history have been this exact combination. they have to be defeated, they refuse redemption, they are 100% committed to their goals and will not budge - but they also GENUINELY BELIEVE in those goals.

what i’m really asking for here is a sincerely motivated character. someone who is a villain, but doesn’t SEE himself as a villain. someone who isn’t lying when they try to endear themselves to the hero or promise to make the world better if they join forces. it’s just that they are completely misguided about what would be good for the world, and nothing will persuade them.

whether someone is a villain, a hero, or anywhere in between, i think asking a character’s motivation - and playing those motivations straight, rather than just as a mask for plain selfishness - is key.

as i’m saying this, you might notice that it’s not actually too far off from what i like in other characters. jasper in SU is basically this in her "main arc” in season three. she refuses help, she’s a huge dick to everyone… but she also 100% believes in homeworld as an institution and is actually, genuinely selfless. even if it means her own corruption, she refuses help, because that would betray her cause. which she values above her own life. and by rebecca sugar’s own words, jasper doesn’t even believe she deserves help.

the common thread here is really tragedy. someone you can root for and against at the same time.

so how does this relate to king magnifico? well, jennifer lee (writer for this movie & also the frozen movies) just had an interview where she talked a lot about wish, and in specific, having a classic disney villain in magnifico.

she illustrates a lot of what i’ve been talking about - that there is no grand conspiracy at disney against villains. they just had different stories they wanted to tell. there was no mandate either for or against villains, not in this movie or any other. they just did what they wanted to do with those stories. (btw, that’s not me saying there isn’t pressure at disney to tell certain stories and not others. it’s just that the concept of a villain isn’t as important to the corporate side as, say, not making elsa gay.)

anyway. what makes the king magnifico portion interesting is how lee talks about exactly what i’ve been saying. they knew they wanted a classic disney villain, but it sounds like they still want him to be different from other such characters. namely, they wanted to find the benevolent side of him, how he genuinely believes what he believes and DOES want what he thinks is best for the city of rosas.

and the plot totally checks out - basically, he decides whose wishes come true. and that’s really interesting, because a wish can be anything, good or bad. it sounds like he really wants to prevent what he sees as bad wishes from coming true, and is too conservative in what he allows or not. and his way of being kind about rejection is to remove those wishes from people’s hearts if he cannot fulfill them.

that’s SUCH a great concept for a villain. it speaks to issues of control, of agency, of being in the paternalistic position of deciding what is “best” for everyone else. it gives me a little bit the wizard of oz (as in the wizard himself, who is a charlatan trying to maintain a pleasant status quo, even if it’s a lie), and a little bit white diamond (controlling the lives of others, but genuinely believing you are being selfless and heroic about it / steering people on the “right” path).

reading that interview, my excitement for this movie went from like a 2/10 to a 8/10. jennifer lee seems to have a real interest in creating characters, not just stock tropes. elsa is one of the best disney princesses (fight me) for exactly the same reason.

another great concept talked about here (which you also see in lee’s frozen, with anna and elsa as opposites) is that of duality. there’s a lot of talk about magnifico and asha being two sides of the same coin, both initially believing in this system and wanting what’s best for the city. and from there, they divert to their opposite paths in what specifically they think is right. the interview talks about them as if they were this thesis and antithesis about what’s right for the city, needing to reach a synthesis. in talking about this concept, they included this illustration:

notice the similar poses. both have their hands behind their back (commonly used to convey a character is hiding something), their feet pointed out, and give the world a pleasant smile. asha has a darker color palette in a world of light, magnifico is a ray of light in a dark space. it's interesting for its duality.

so yeah. all in all, i’m still excited for wish. i want to take alan tudyk goat out back and shoot it for a quick, humane death… but failing that, i’ll just pray his role was hammed up for the trailer. please tell me it’s not that insufferable. please.

because i do really like everything else i’ve heard about this movie!! i like that asha is described as this idealist with “dumb courage”, like maybe she’ll actually have some character flaws and need to learn?? (maybe? hopefully?) i like everything i just said about king magnifico. i like that we have this blend of 2d and 3d animation, that’s such a clever concept for a “100 years of disney” celebration.

so yeah. i will be watching. never have i ever prayed for chris pine to save a movie, but today might just be the day!