#Yakuza writing

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

How do you rank the Yakuza games by story quality?

Welp, this will be opening up a can of worms, but to thank you for asking... (still leaving out both Judgment games because I'm a loser who hasn't played them) And obviously, this will get long, so much more under the cut:

First: Yakuza 0 -

You can all dunk on me for putting the popular choice first, but it's popular for a reason. The story stands on its own feet; if you never played another Yakuza game, you still got a satisfying story out of this. No dangling plot threads or criminally underutilized characters*. I think as a whole the series could have built more on these themes, I think Kiwami 1 does a little, which we'll get to in due course, but in general my biggest problem with Yakuza series writing is they adamantly refuse to view their writing as a story and only see it as a vehicle for a video game which... makes for some really questionable decisions. (* I know there are those who think more should have been done with Makoto or Nishitani living and there's room to argue here. It's half the reason to write fanfiction, but I think from a bird's eye view, we have a cohesive narrative where the stakes were fulfilled.)

Second: Yakuza 7 -

On the whole, this was a really solid entry writing wise. There's only a couple of missteps I see here and mostly they're to do with the very end. So, spoilers for the end of Yakuza 7, skip to the next point if you don't want to know. I think it would have been really cool if they'd just made Ichiban Black-Asian, but that's a personal quibble for me. I think crowbarring Kiryu in was... questionable and not really good??? For Ichiban??? But my biggest problem was killing Ryo, that was absolutely unneeded and kinda makes a mockery of Kiryu's entire arc. Like, Ichiban and Kiryu, as have oft been noted, are very different protagonists. Kiryu is haunted by the sins of his father and the death of his brother. These slowly eat Kiryu from the inside out (much like cancer) turning him bitter and away from the yakuza as a whole. We deal with these themes in every single game, more or less. That's not what Ichiban's set up to deal with. Ichiban from day 1 is Just Some Guy, started at the bottom now we're here. He's all about success and joy and loving life, especially in the face of adversity, and in particular, in the face of social convention. Killing his brother saddles Ichiban with deep guilt and grief over what could have been, should have been, or at least it should, right? Ichiban spends their last minutes together trying to save his soul and I think would have been successful if the writing hadn't fucked him at the last second. And just... why? What purpose does it serve? Tying up loose ends? I don't know how to explain this, but you actually can let a character's story be over without killing them. That's actually just a very normal thing you can do. And this is what I mean about viewing the story as a video game rather than as a story: the boss must be defeated, Ryo must die, whether or not that makes any fucking sense. And especially in the context of what Kiryu went through, this looks super fucking bad because I can almost guarantee we will never revisit any guilt or sorrow over that death in any future game. Like, we do the exact same thing, Ichiban traumatically loses a brother he had a fraught relationship with, just like Kiryu, but instead of changing him and his trajectory irrevocably it just... bounces off. Really, really bad choice, I do not care for it.

Third: Yakuza Kiwami 1 -

Haters gonna hate, but I love Kiwami 1. I think it's an excellent retelling and refinement of the first Yakuza while incorporating a lot of relevant details and character progress from Yakuza 0. If I was going to level a criticism at it, it would be that we still shy from letting Kiryu confirm his emotional tethers. For all that I think there's some very strong writing regarding what Kiryu cares about and what motivates him, at strange moments the writing will suddenly back down in a fit of cowardly homophobia and cling to just enough plausible deniability that they won't upset censors or alienate less subtextual readers. This goes hand in hand with the narrative cannot fucking figure out what to do with Majima. He's important! But not that important. He's Kiryu's closest friend and also they hate each other. Sometimes the narrative tries very hard to convince you It's Not Gay We Swear, The Rivalry Is So Straight And Malicious You Guys when two scenes before they lovingly stared into each others eyes while speaking deep personal truths for like a full three minutes, unblinking, unlaughing. And in the context of later games, it's weird to give Majima so much space in this game and in 0, to give him oodles of screen time, to make it very clear how close he and Kiryu are, and then frantically backtrack and nearly try to erase him from the narrative later, assure you he's Just Some Guy to Kiryu, after they've already painstakingly proved otherwise. It's frustrating, but certainly not a unique criticism. And I get that Majima has a big pull promotional wise, we all love the mad man, but... pick a lane. Either let him be Kiryu's one true love or stop messing with this shit, since it makes you so uncomfortable to imply otherwise.

Fourth: Yakuza 3 -

Okay, this game has really, really good writing actually! Yes, it drags in spots, but I think this game pulls off the greatest villain reveal of the whole series. It's really hard to reveal a villain's motives at the very end and have it resonate with the audience. And when you hear Mine say "Daigo is the only man I ever loved" it fucking makes sense. All his weird behavior, his barely contained rage, his psychotic choices... it all becomes crystal clear why as you see this picture of a man with the worst kind of self-esteem problems, who pinned the whole of his essence on someone else and cannot come to terms with the reality of human frailty. I make no apologies for being a huge fan of Mine and he's definitely the best written character in the game. This game still struggles with letting Kiryu put proper emotional weight on his core relationships, both with Majima and with Daigo specifically. And even with his orphanage, we introduce all those children but when do they ever matter? Yes, this is a yakuza game, Kiryu has to go out and fight people because this is a game and he's the protagonist, but then why have him retire to the beach at all if you're just going to have him come back, painlessly, every time?

Fifth: Yakuza 5 -

Oh, Yakuza 5, my ugly beloved. My swan song. My cherished disaster. Equal parts sublime and terrible. This is peak writing for Kiryu, of all the games, this one understands him the best. He's tired and sad and bitter, he's riddled with guilt and doing his best and his best is shit, and in the end he still tries to come home. God, this... this was the closest we ever came to letting Kiryu grow, letting him learn his lesson, letting him understand that dying like his father did and abandoning his family is not the fucking answer. Kiryu's arc in this game is so good, so earned, we even let him go bug fucking crazy at the idea Majima is dead, I could swoon. God, this was So Good, I will not hear any criticisms about Kiryu in this game, 10/10 Kiryu.

On the other hand, it has been well documented that I am a Mirei Park hater, RIP to her lovers, but I just hated every part of that. I think Majima was character assassinated this game. I understand that at the time, 0 and both Kiwamis didn't exist yet and so the writing is responding to this impulse that for Majima to work, for him to make sense, there has to be deep pain and tragedy in his background. But this was a catastrophic vehicle for it, it does not fit for him, and they did a 10/10 job in 0 so... that's the canon I believe. Semi-related, I don't love making Haruka an idol? Not only does she state in previous games that she's not interested in being an idol, but I just think it's a waste of her potential. I love her being a protag, I wish we could get MORE protag Haruka, god she deserves it, we deserve it. And I think there were many other ways we could have done that, I think this fell prey to a lack of imagination on the part of the writers. But, she does call her father home in the end and decide this isn't what she wanted after all so... I do love that. They snatched it back in the end.

And hey, we even got a fulfilling arc out of Saejima! Who knew! On balance, the writing of this game is really good, it just has a couple of critical failures for me. But mostly, expert characterization and finally allowing emotional weight to have its due. It's cruel of me to say, but I so wish the series had ended here. Or even hard reboot with 7, that's fine. Just... man. I wish we hadn't destroyed everything we did correctly here.

Sixth: Yakuza 4 -

Everyone loves to dunk on Yakuza 4 for being too complicated and difficult to understand. That actually doesn't bother me. I think the plot isn't that bad to follow and I think the introduction of non-yakuza members to the crime world, Akiyama and Tanimura, are really good world building. It helps to understand that there are forces that can impact what the yakuza do and what they are capable of doing. I think Daigo is 10/10 in this game, I think his mistakes are entirely justified, and I love how we have to deal with it.

What I don't love is Kiryu's amnesia from Yakuza 3, that those lessons seem to be entirely lost and have to be learned again. I don't love that there's no continuity of consequences, either from other games into this one or from this game into later ones. That's really my biggest problem with 4. That despite introducing fan favorites like Saejima and Akiyama, both of whom are executed really well and are excellent additions, the political tension and themes that I think are very coherent here don't have much impact on the later series. And maybe that was down to poor reception and people complaining that they didn't like the story. That could just be an artifact of serial publication and bending to the whims of public opinion. Again, for me that's an issue of viewing the story as a video game and product rather than maintaining loyalty to the story above all else. But that's my bias as a writer and as a professional academic when it comes to story.

Seventh: Yakuza 6 -

Full disclosure: I have almost no love for Yakuza 6. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth and a fog in my brain. I find it particularly egregious of erasing past lessons, of ignoring understandings we already had. I think it deliberately ignores emotional weight we already established and used. I loathe what we do with Haruka, that her entire autonomy is stripped from her and she is little more than a bauble used to torture Kiryu. I find the choices made for her at best perplexing and at worst deeply misogynistic and narrow. I hate that rather than use characters already long-established to deal with Kiryu's trauma regarding organized crime, family, brotherhood, and fatherhood, we introduce new people who do not matter and will never be seen again instead of resolving anything with the people we already know and care about. It feels like an incredible slap in the face to anyone who cared about those previous characters and the relationships they had with Kiryu.

Think about that letter to Daigo at the end. How earned, how deserved it is. And yet, it's so hollow because it's literally the bare minimum Kiryu needed to do for him. Think about how much more fulfilling this story could have been if we actually spent it with Daigo, resolving all the pain there. Also, Kiryu faking his death??? Abandoning his family, after we just literally in the last game proved why you shouldn't do that??? I get that this was supposed to be the end of the series and nothing is more final than death. But at the first opportunity they drag Kiryu back, like they always do. So his faked death does nothing to the plot except hurt the people around him, the people who cared about him. I in fact wrote an entire fic about how bad a job I think this game was and how much it hurt me personally. So it's very hard for me to be objective about this.

Viewing it apart from continuity, it's a relatively engaging story about a middle-aged dad trying to navigate a shady past. And if you look at this like that, if Kiryu was just some guy, some stranger, I know I wouldn't be as devastated by it as I am. For all the people who love this game, maybe that's what's working for you. It's also lush and beautiful and Kiryu's ass is in every shot. But putting it in context... I can't really think of anything I like here.

Eighth: Yakuza Kiwami 2 -

Now, now, before you get angry, I love Kiwami 2! In terms of enjoyment, I rate it very high! But... it's a pretty hot mess in terms of story. It's a real odd duck in continuity and I know that's down to it was originally a sequel to a standalone game that was never meant to have a sequel. And when they remade Yakuza 1, they couldn't very well not make Yakuza 2. But considering what we later did in the series... it just doesn't quite come together. Like, Ryuji should matter. The shit we bring up about that backstory should matter. This was a great opportunity for Kiryu to unpack some of his feelings about the yakuza and it makes sense that he's depressed as shit here, but... there's just a lot of missed opportunities. In our pursuit of putting Daigo on the throne, there was so much more work we could have done regarding the sins of the father, the narrative is kinda set up for that since we're a father-son team, but... we don't really. We again let Kiryu refuse to unpack and shy out of the emotional weight of our choices. I don't love that. And since we do some of the work, we at least start it, in Yakuza 3 with Kiryu having to acknowledge that he abandoned Daigo in a shit position (god if only, if only...), it's weird that we didn't build more of the blocks here. Again, I know this is largely down to Yakuza 2 was never supposed to exist and they didn't know how many games they would get, but since it's a remake, they had time to go back and clean things up. *sigh* Oh well, at least there's Ryuji titty and tigers to fight.

[gncmajima]

perhaps ooc but. majima is one of the few people from Kiryu’s past still around… I wonder what goes on Kiryu’s head sometimes

Now with a PART 2, part 3

[oceanicoleander]

Like a Dragon: The Movie 2007 - Dir. Takashi Miike

[flamingpudding]

Little Snippets #9

"This portal will bring you back to your time safely."

The young teen, well kid in Dick's eyes said before them, pointing towards a green vortex. Dick felt relieved but also a twist in his gut. Time travel adventures always had their pro and cons. He was sure that they hadn't messed up anything, Damian wouldn't end up with a new hair cut this time, nor any of his brother. Hell Jason was even apparently cleaned out from some bad ectoplasm.

Yet...

They had spend some time here, fixing Ra's newest dumb idea to get Damian back on his side. They had bonded with this kid from the past. A young hero at the age of 14, barely older than Damian himself.

The kid had gotten tricked by Ra at first then they ended up in his time resolving the mess and bonding with this kid. Like really bonded with this kid. Like B starting to mentor the kid like he did all of them. Tim tinkering and engineering with him. Jason bantering and joking with the kid, even Damian bonded with him, thanks to one size changing ghost dog. Not to mention Dick bonded with the kid a lot too.

And it sucked in Dick's opinion. He glanced at his family, even if they all were in gear and wearing masks, he could see the small signs in the way they where holding themselves. The small indications, movements barely noticeable to anyone else.

Hell he could even see it in Bruce, the way the man tensed just a little bit. The small twitch of the man's lip, the little minuscule tilt. It was all there and only for the Batfamily to see.

Dick put on a smile, burying that twisted feeling in his gut.

Like they all did.

Like they all were forced to do.

He watched Tim make one last souvenir selfie. Well they all had one with the kid. Made at various points during their stay in this time. Even Damian sneaked making one using the excuse of wanting a selfie with that big green ghost dog.

"We will be on our way then kid." He tried sounding cheerful and by the smile the kid gave him, he was sure he hit the right tone of voice. "Don't be a stranger when we meet again."

He smiled still, knowing his family caught on to the fact that he said 'when' not 'if'.

Because it was obvious.

In their short time here, they all but officially, had adopted the kid into the family. Dick would joke that he kid would fit right in with them while they were here. Jason lamenting how Bruce had a type with kids. Bruce had had that minuscule uplift to his lip whenever they had joked around with the kid.

But again, this wasn't their time.

And that's why time travel sucked.

You make bonds, maybe even new family.

But they wouldn't be there when you are back in the time you belong.

But Dick was determined. When they stepped through that vortex, when he looked back at the kid waving to them. He knew what he had to do the moment they were back in their time.

He just hoped the kid would remember them, remember his words of not being a stranger.

[aomiiine]

G-A-N-G BABY, LET ME B-A-N-G BABY

ᥫ᭡. gang boy fucking his gang baby ft. yakuza!sukuna + fem!reader

ʬʬʬʬARNINGS -> just a short drabble. sukuna: true form, backshots, slight choking, dirty talk, evident degradation, just a hint of objectification. wc. 500

“Aren’t you just the most adorable, pathetic, thing in the world, aren’t you?” The burly man exhaled the cruelest laugh to your ringing ears, not soothing the pounding in your head and sting on your inflamed ass. Everything fell in your right ear and out the left, unable to comprehend a thing when all that occupied your mind was his rough thrusts. It was like he wanted to rip the humanity out of you and leave your body lingering for him to use as a cocksleeve.

But he wouldn’t really do that. He loved you. Maybe.

Calloused pair of hands held you firmly in place on his desk, hips adjusted to match the position of Sukuna’s hips. All the while you were blabbering on his oakwood table, eyes rolling back, Sukuna had one of the other pair of his hands tucked snugly between your legs, index finger of one hand rubbing the pulsing bundle of nerves in tight circles, quickening and slowing torturously between slams of his cock into your full cunt.

“Toes curling and quivering with your pussy sucking my cock in tight like a vice.. Should I coax your filthy pussy to cum? Or are you trained enough of a slut to do that on your own?” His voice grew gruffer with each word, free hand moving up your spine until his fingers curved around your nape, thick fingers burying themselves in a firm grip on your neck. With controlled yet undeniably brute force, he pulled your body back by your throat alone, making you fuck yourself back onto his cock, filling the dimly lit office with further obscene noises of wet flesh slapping against one another.

Once again your moans were drawn out like an instrument, his fingers plucking the strings so effortlessly. Your hands were sprawled on the hard surface of the desk, unable to find purchase to ground yourself on as the muscular man behind you plowed into your tight channel with abandon, chasing his orgasm that inevitably lead to your own. And with a few desperate groans and deep thrusts later, he did.

“Here’s my load, baby, yeah? Gotta tighten up that pussy of yours so not a single drop’s wasted, pretty girl. She can do that, can’t she?” He grunted between scoffs, referring to your cunt shamelessly with the corner of his lips curling to a smirk of utter pleasure, pupils blown wide with his lower lip red from being bitten on when the first spurts of his semen pumped out. He could feel it, your pussy responding to his words without hesitation. Your walls fluttered around his dick and that was enough to send shocks down his spine, earning few more leaks of cum to spill into you.

Your entire body shivered, breath heavy and ragged from exertion and satisfaction. Even as you tried to regain composure, not a single limb in your body would move. Not when he was still buried so deep inside you, basking in the weak squirts your pussy offered, something you did without even realising it. With mustered effort, you tried raising your head in hopes of lifting your body off the table. But his hand on your nape reminded you of its presence.

“Now where the fuck do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you yet.”

[normalfrances]

Majima is Kiryus “boys night out” takes an unexpected turn when a VERY buzzed Kiryu tries to tell Majima how much he means to him and an equally buzzed Majima cannot accept this affection so he makes a completely natural and smooth escape （＾ν＾）

(Close ups and bonus doodle comics under the cut!! vv )

[wttcsms]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ you know i'll take you there

ᝰ.ᐟ shinsuke isn't too happy after your little escape attempt, and he makes it known. (fem!reader)

word count 2.5k content contains mating press, creampie, yakuza au, yandere themes, dubcon, praise kink, pet names (good girl), depictions of violence (not towards reader) author's notes sorry for lack of context; this is meant to take place after this fic concept

Shinsuke Kita doesn’t flinch when he pulls the trigger on a gun. 

The recoil doesn’t even register for him; when you do something for so long, eventually, it just becomes second nature. Like the mechanical movements you do when you brush your teeth, or the way you can tie your sneakers without having to actually look at the laces — shooting someone in the head is a mundane thing for Kita, for his line of work. He does it so often, has practiced it ever since he was a young boy, that what he does after is muscle memory. He removes the handkerchief from his suit and wipes the tiny splatter of blood that ended up getting on his cheek. He folds the sullied handkerchief neatly, tucking it away in the inner pocket of his suit. He makes sure the safety on his gun is in place, and he nods for Aran to drag the dead body away. 

When Aran takes his leave, the still-warm corpse in tow, the only people left in the room are Kita and a very scared young man. 

One of these men will be leaving this room, and the other will be hoping for a death as swift and merciful as the flawless execution Kita just delivered. 

“I told you there would be consequences,” Kita doesn’t taunt his victims. He’s not the type to do so. Cold and calculated — his own gang considers him to be a robot, and for the longest time, Kita agreed with them. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Kita has a reason to drag out his torture. Now, Kita understands what it’s like to find his very reason for existing. His purpose isn’t to lead one of the biggest yakuza families in the underground criminal world of Japan. His purpose is to devote his very being to you, and vice versa. 

So imagine how heartbroken he felt when he caught you trying to escape from the farmhouse he built for the two of you. And this man, a low-level runt in his group, had been foolish enough to give in and help you. 

“Please, sir, I wanted no part in the escape! She begged me, she—”

“She’ll receive her own punishment. I value fairness, after all.” Kita interrupts him, sounding as cold as the blood running through the young man’s veins. He’s frozen in fear as he tries to stammer out more excuses, more explanations, more promises to do better in the future but—

—there really isn’t much of a future for him. Not one that he’ll be happy to live in, at least. Kita is fair; having you slip away would have killed him internally. So now, Kita has to kill this man internally. Crush his spirit. Make him dream of death, dangle death in front of his face like a treat to a dog, but never, ever allow him such a kindness. 

(Kita is a fair leader, but very rarely is he kind. 

Kindness will get you killed. 

The boy dumb enough to help you — he’s kind.)

Kita retrieves a knife from one of the inconspicuous cabinets in this room. The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling casts a warm glow over the both of them, but the blade of the knife reflects back the light, makes it shine in the poor boy’s face. He flinches. 

“Do you remember?” Kita asks him, turning the knife as if to inspect it from every angle. 

“Wh-what?” He stutters out, sounding breathless. He might be on the verge of a panic attack. That’ll make things messier than they need to be. 

“Do you remember what hand you used when you held hers?” Kita clarifies. He sounds calm, but the sight of another man holding your hand had him seething. Even now, it takes everything in him to not plunge the knife right into this young man’s heart, to twist the blade ‘round his insides, make him hurt like how Kita hurt when he witnessed it. 

“It was your left hand.” Kita answers for him. “Fortunately, you’re right-handed. Surely it won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you after I’m done sawing it off.” 

Kita’s chopped off a few fingers and one hand before, but never has he attempted to do it with a medium sized knife. A knife with a purposely dull blade. 

He smiles faintly. Sometimes, it can be fun to break routine and try new things.

You’re in bed by the time Kita returns home. He’s back later than he expects; it turns out, his little experiment with the dull blade is very, very messy. Maybe with practice, he’ll perfect that, too. That boy still has another hand to spare, after all. 

Feeling satisfied with himself, Kita starts humming gently as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. Before you, Kita never bothered making unnecessary noise. He rarely listened to music, but now—

The sting of your betrayal has lessened considerably. Kita isn’t even upset with you anymore. It’s normal for couples to fight and want to storm out on each other, but what matters most is that at the end of the day, he’s coming home to find you warming his bed. 

In his line of work, simple pleasures aren’t usually so sweet. 

You don’t stir when he joins you in bed, the mattress dipping just the slightest bit due to the sudden shift in weight, but he makes his presence hard to ignore, even in your slumber, when he presses his chest against your back, his lips nipping gently on the soft skin of your ears. 

You whine, your eyesight blurry as your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. You’re instantly aware of Kita’s body covering your own, and when he feels the subtle shivers of your body, the both of you know it’s not because of the chill of the air conditioner.

He makes a tiny grunt of disapproval. Even after all this time, you’re scared of him? Silly girl — he’d never do anything to hurt you. 

Well, nothing that would hurt you too badly. 

“Did ya have a good dream?” He asks you, breath warm against your ear. 

You swallow hard, not brave enough to shift your body. Ever since the truth came out, the fact that sweet Shinsuke is more than just an average overworked businessman but is a yakuza crime boss, things have never been the same between you two. Kita is nothing if not persistent, though. He still cuddles up against you, he still whispers sweet nothings in your ear, he’s still affectionate and downright loving in every action he does towards you. 

He knows not to expect an answer from you, especially when he plays with the bottom hem of your silk nightgown. “Wish ya would tell me what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” 

You can picture him frowning; as perceptive as he is, you know that he prefers hearing your thoughts directly from you. 

“What happened to Goto?” You dare to ask, and the air seems to shift in your bedroom. 

Kita is gripping the soft flesh of your thighs, his hand large and imposing, rough with calluses and forever red with blood. You never really learn, you suppose, about how there’s a time and place for such questions. 

“Goto received his punishment.” Kita answers calmly, voice steady but cold. “And I nearly forgot about yours.” 

Liar. You want to call him out, but you at least have enough self-preservation to bite your tongue. As if Kita would ever forget. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since your little escape attempt. 

Kita adores you, loves you, because in a world of greedy, nasty, spiteful little creatures, you are kind and caring and full of the sugary sweet goodness he’s always going to have a taste for. It’s why he’s not surprised when you ask him, 

“Is he… alive?” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Is that what you’re really worried about? Goto, over the broken heart of your husband?” 

When you don’t answer, Kita tightens his grip on your thigh, contemplating his next move, before he lets his hand travel to the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing against your bare cunt. He’s pleased to find out that you’re still his obedient, sweet girl, following his direct order of going to bed without a bra or panties. Some nights, he’s so tired, any excess fabric is a hindrance. 

“If you have a heart, you’ll tell me what happened to him.” You mumble, trying to ignore the way your body craves for Kita’s touch. Before the truth of his second life came out, you were an addict for him. No one has ever touched him the way he’s touched you, and even now, when you want to ignore him and try to remind yourself of what an awful person he truly is, you can’t.

There’s a traitorous part of your heart and soul that still longs for Kita, no matter the truth.

“It’s because I have a heart that I didn’t kill him.” Kita isn’t lying. The torture was for his pleasure, sure, but he knows how upset and inconsolable you would be if you felt like you were responsible for Goto’s death. The register of his voice lowers as he speaks again, though. His warning leaves you frozen in fear.

“If his filthy hands ever touch you again, I’ll kill him.” 

There are a litany of reasons why you find yourself in the position you’re currently in: wanting, waiting, whining for Kita. Fear, for one thing. You feel compelled to do whatever he wants, considering the sheer difference in strength and power between the two of you. But try as you might, it’s hard to ignore the tiny, nagging voice in your head that lulls you into a state of docile desire. Kita’s always taken care of you, right? You were in love with him, for fuck’s sake. And as you ride his fingers, content to wrap your warm, wet heat around three of his digits as he chuckles at your wanton display, that nagging voice reminds you that you still do — love him, that is. 

Three fingers buried deeply in the warmth of your cunt is enough to make you forget about the events leading up to tonight. He withdraws his fingers, much to your displeasure, and you whine out for him to continue with his ministrations before he shuts you up by forcing you to suck his thumb. You can feel the rough skin of his finger on your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, treating this situation as if you were about to suck his cock, and your tongue laps at the pad of his thumb before he removes it from your mouth. 

Without any preamble, he’s back to burying his fingers into your pussy, his thumb — wet with your saliva — pressed firmly against your clit. 

“Do you wish it was my cock filin’ you up?” He grunts out, rubbing mercilessly against your clit as you continue to writhe against the bedsheets. Your cheeks feel warm, blood rushing up to your chest and face, and you bite down on your bottom lip, knowing your answer. A shameless, pitiful yes. 

“You’re so beautiful, so sweet, so kind.” In his world, kindness gets you killed. Kita’s no different from any other man in his line of work, and it’s why he’s ravaging you right now. Pumping his fingers in and out of your slick hole, making a mess of his fingers, of your pussy, of the bedsheets, of you. It’s why every time he brings you to your climax, you cum violently. You’re letting out a string of stuttered, fractured fucks mixed in with sharp intakes of breath and Shinsuke’s, and you buck your hips wildly against his fingers, pushing his digits even further in as you cum. 

With your mind hazy from pleasure, your brain scrambled from sleepiness and an intense orgasm, Kita wastes no time pouncing on you. There’s no chance for you to beg for him to wait, and you register that this must be your punishment.

Shinsuke is going to fuck you without any of his normal restraint.

He slides in your sopping wet cunt in one sharp thrust, burying his thick cock deep into your warm, snug hole. He likes having a routine, he likes having set boundaries and rules, he likes being a man of practicality. But right now, he’s fucking you like a wild beast. All you can do is just take it; take his relentless thrusts, his anger, his need to dominate you, to remind you who you belong to. 

“Open up.” He demands, his voice rough and thick with desire. You comply; it’s so easy, considering that you haven’t been able to hold back a single moan as he has his way with you. He spits directly into your mouth, watching the way his saliva sits on the surface of your pink tongue. He doesn’t need to command you to swallow, because you do, savoring the taste of him.

He makes you look him in the eyes as he fucks into you relentlessly. One hand is gripping your hip, practically crushing you as he pounds into your pussy. You’re so fucking wet that the sounds of him moving in and out of your cunt are so lewd, so loud. The inescapable burn of pain and pleasure, the sensitivity of your cunt having to endure his insatiable lust, has you moaning like a bitch in heat. 

“Shin— Shinsuke! G-gonna cum!” You squeak out, and it only motivates Kita to double down. He holds up your legs, your limbs burning from the stretch as he continues to get rougher with his movements. You’re looking at him with a dazed, fucked out expression, and he has the audacity to let out a chuckle. 

“There’s my good girl.” He praises you, spitting into your open mouth once more. 

With your legs trembling and the foggy haze of pleasure clouding your head, you greedily, happily accept his praise. Your legs press tightly against his sides, and with his spit in your mouth and his cock drilling into you with even sharper movements than before, you cum. 

Kita lets out a grunt of approval as he finishes inside of you, a load of hot seed pouring deep inside of you as he keeps your legs folded, his hips pressed against yours, as if he wants to plug you up with his cum. He kisses your forehead that’s glistening with sweat from the heat of his body colliding with yours; it seems the two orgasms he wrung out of you have taken its toll on your body. You’re a pliant, fucked out little mess — his pliant, fucked out little mess. 

“Good girl.” He murmurs sweetly. “I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to say it back. He just pulls out his cock a bit before thrusting back into you. This action causes you to let out another long, drawn out moan. He’s absolutely relentless, and as tired as you are, you realize that you don’t want him to stop.

(Pity that you’re not capable of speech at the moment.

Because you would have told him that you love him, too.)

[mattsundaes]

yakuza!kuroo, 18+ (fingering, oral sex f!receiving)

it’s your wedding night, and kuroo is weak.

weak after months of watching you yearn for his affection, of watching your hopeful expression morph into something painfully resigned (it feels like a gash behind his ribcage).

he thinks back to the night he took your father aside. he didn’t even know you, yet he found himself pleading with your father not broker a deal with nohebi. not to marry you off to fucking daishou suguru.

“he’ll ruin her,” kuroo bit out, because he knows what happened to daishou’s last wife (he shudders at the memory of it).

the thought of another woman going through that makes him sick to his stomach.

“i have no other choice to keep her safe right now,” your father stared at him, blunt and unapologetic. “you know who i am, what that entails.”

marriage was such a foreign concept to kuroo at the time, he’d never considered it for any sort of arrangement, let alone out of love. and yet—

“i’ll marry her.”

your father had warned him not to get attached. the engagement, the marriage—it’s all meant to be temporary. until things in tokyo cool down or your father decides to whisk you off somewhere else entirely.

you’re with kuroo for nekoma’s protection.

you don’t know this, of course. that kuroo’s been keeping you at arm’s length because he doesn’t want to hurt you when this charade crumbles. it’s better for you to hate him from the start.

(and really, he doesn’t trust himself to be able to let you go back to your father once he’s truly had you. once you’re really his.)

but it’s your wedding night.

and kuroo tetsurou has become a weak, weak man.

(weak for you.)

“do you want help?”

kuroo pauses in front of your bedroom, door left slightly ajar, gaze falling to where you’re currently struggling to undo the straps of your heels.

you blink at him several times, and he can’t blame you for being surprised. he’s never set foot in your bedroom, after all (not counting the night he brought you home after you were abducted—when he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you as he carried you in his arms to your bed).

but you eventually nod, collapsing back onto your mattress in a huff.

you changed into a short, thin, white silky dress for the latter half of the evening, one that’s been mercilessly eating away at the frayed edges of kuroo’s wavering self-control. and now your pretty, smooth thighs are on full display as the skirt unapologetically rides up with the position that you’re in.

kuroo inhales slowly before coming to kneel between your legs, trying not to revel in the way he feels you immediately react to the feeling of his hands wrapping around your ankles.

he doesn’t mean to do it, doesn’t mean to run the pad of his thumb over the arch of your foot (doesn’t mean to forget to breathe as he listens to your answering sharp intake of breath).

but kuroo is weak, weak for you. weak for his wife.

and when his heat of his lips finds your ankle, he can’t bring himself to care about anything else but the way you whimper his name.

“kuroo.”

he glances up at you, finds you sitting up halfway on your elbows staring at him with an expression that has his pants tightening almost painfully against the swell of his cock.

“i think we can agree it’s tetsurou now, no?” he asks before leaning back in to press a longer, hotter open-mouthed kiss to your knee.

your fingers bunch in the sheets.

“tetsurou,” you gasp.

kuroo feels something zip down his spine at the sound of those syllables dancing off of your tongue. and it’s a little terrifying, the sudden free fall he finds himself in—this near-loss of control.

because in this moment, kuroo knows he’d do anything to hear that sound again.

and he knows that despite all of the distance he’s wedged between the two of you, despite the fact that that this is supposed to be business and you were never really meant to be his—

kuroo knows now that if someone wants to take you away from him, they’re going to have to kill him first.

he wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you to the edge of the mattress, slowly sliding up the skirt of your dress as he greedily kisses his way up the inside of your thighs.

you’re so fucking sensitive beneath his touch he thinks he’s going to lose his mind.

your panties are the same blood red shade as the tie he wore today. his cock aches at the revelation. he runs a careful finger over the lace, staring up at you from where he’s still kneeling between your spread legs.

“can i touch you?” he asks, voice a little hoarse.

you have to smother a laugh with your hand, borderline hysterical over the implication that there’s any universe where you’d deny him. kuroo fights the urge to palm his dick through his pants as you say “yes” and “please.”

the lace tickles his lips as kuroo mouths at your cunt through your panties, teasing you until the material’s wholly soaked through with his spit and your arousal as you unconsciously bury your fingers in his hair and beg him for more.

you loosen your grip when he stops sucking at your clothed pussy, eyes widening a little as you realize you were pulling his hair.

“sorry,” you breathe out.

kuroo grins, butting his head against your hovering hand, “no, i like it.”

hooking a finger in your panties and tugging them aside, he lets his teeth press into his lower lip as he stares at the messy slick dripping from your folds.

for him.

he swipes his thumb up and down the length of your slit, just barely skirting the swollen, waiting bundle of nerves at your apex.

“you’re so wet,” he murmurs, feeling the messy smear of precum steadily soaking into his pants while you buck your hips into his touch.

kuroo’s never had the pleasure of coming untouched.

but he thinks he could when he slides a finger into your soaking wet cunt and feels the way your creamy walls tighten around him.

he thinks that the sound of you moaning his name alone could milk his cock dry as he fucks you with one finger until you’re begging for two, pulling his hair and cupping his face in a desperate frenzy.

and then kuroo slides off your panties and buries his tongue in your cunt, and he feels just as gone as you sound and feel while you’re wildly bucking into his touch, choking out a sob as a wet spray squirts out of you while when he sends you tumbling over the edge of your climax.

(he groans against your pussy as he feels his cock finally twitching and pulsing hot and thick in his boxers.)

the two of you sit there for minutes afterward, you on the bed and him kneeling on the floor before you, both of you struggling to catch your breath. to make sense of what just happened.

and something inside of kuroo cracks open at the shuttered look of rejection that begins to sink across your face when he goes to stand up, takes a step away.

you don’t try to stop him.

but he leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple as he murmurs, “i’m just getting a towel to clean you up.”

you look up at him, lips parting slightly in surprise.

“i’m not leaving,” he assures you, slowly stroking the curve of your jaw.

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

"you know I'd do anything for you."

"ken..."

"I mean it," the yakuza boss persists, leaning forward as the two of you sit in the comfort of your shared matrimonial bed, 4 months of marriage with yet no arguments to be seen (to the surprise of everyone around you: maids, friends, your mother, and you). kento has been all the accommodating in this transition. even when he knew half your heart did not want to settle in like this, in this world.

"you don't have to say that," you hope the softness in your voice can lessen the weight of your words, "we don't have to do this... thing,"

"does my desire to put myself at your will make you uncomfortable?"

"i-it's not that-"

"then will you allow me?" he asks, "not as my wife, but as you," the way he says your name makes your heart skip a beat, your throat contracts as he leaves you with a question you were not expecting.

"I don't know what you're asking of me." you almost flinch when he sighs, fearing you've made this entirely worse, but at your question, your husband takes your hands in his.

"allow me to join you for brunch," you know exactly what he means by this. every saturday, you liked to eat outside the porch. with a book in hand or a pen, you used these objects as a means of comfort.

you now realize he was trying to be the same.

"okay," you breathe, sighing shakily as you nod. "do you... want to start tomorrow?" he nods.

"I'd like that, thank you."

[balfiere]

GORO MAJIMA, January 1989 -> February 2025

[mhelheh]

"Koi that will never scale the mighty waterfall" TW blood under spoiler

[interstellarvacuumcleaner]

So. I was watching the RGG Direct, and then a ~Vision~ came upon me in Jima Jima chat after talking about how NishiMinami would sleep on Goromaru...

behold: that one piece screencap but Goromaru crew quarters ✨

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Sukuna "asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl" Ryomen

🎀minors and ageless blogs will be blocked 🎀

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Genre: Smut, dark hero.

Word Count: 1450

Warnings: first off, fucking sukuna himself is a warning on his own so let's just start there. Possessive Sukuna, dark sukuna, yakuza sukuna, shitty boss, mean fucking asshole boss, violence, against boss, dacryphillia, p in v sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, read at your own discretion.

Summary: Sukunas heard you cry because of your boss one too many times. He takes matters into his own hands

A/N: This absolutely SPECTACULAR ART is by @innaillus and you can find the original here.

I want to thank her, not only for allowing me to use this as a banner but also for making such amazing art and sharing it with us. ♥️

This is a purely self indulgent fic. If you don't like it, please don't read it. I had a shitty week and needed a place to cool off.

Sukuna Ryomen glared down at your boss. He’d come in to pick you up and heard the creature screaming at you for something he already knew wasn’t your fault. You’d told him about the trouble you were having with your co-workers who slacked off and your shitty fucker of a boss who for some reason didn’t tell them off, but instead unloaded his anger on you. This would be the last time this pathetic vermin made you cry, he vowed.

He pushed open the door to your small office and stalked in. You stood in the corner trying to make yourself as small as possible, silent tears streaming down your face as your boss kept berating you – not even noticing his presence. One of the other workers tried to step in his way but he shoved them aside like they were nothing more than window curtains. He placed himself in between you and the balding middle aged man who dared to call himself your boss. “Hey nimrod, she doesn’t work for you anymore. Don’t fucking yell at her.”

The man cowered. Sukuna was taller than him and his crossed arms made his thick muscles ripple under his skin.

“Ryo…” you whispered

“Wh-who let th-this man in here? Sir, th-this is an office space. You n-need to leave.” your boss sneered at your saviour.

Sukuna merely smirked at you and pulled you into his side placing his lips on the top of your head in a chaste kiss. “Yeah, don't worry, I’ll be going pretty soon. Breathing the same air as you is making me feel nauseated. Can't believe the patience my baby girl had with your shit-ass, fucker” his first met the man's stomach with a sickening squelching crunch, and your now ex-boss, crumpled onto the floor in a heap.

“I'm gon-gonna call the cops on you asshole’ he croaked out.

Sukuna just laughed. “Have at it, ya great ballsack.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Sukuna came to pick you up from work that day he had planned the night down to a T. He’d wanted to take you to a new movie that you'd been itching to see but hadn't had the time. He would follow that with a fancy sushi dinner at the city's best restaurant and then take you to the outskirts where there was a nice little viewpoint he had discovered where he planned on showing you the stars – in more than one way…

But when you didn't come out at your specified time, nor answer the cute message he’d sent you – Where you at, kitty-kat? – Sukuna decided to investigate and came across your asshole of a boss yelling at you. He’d had enough. You’d been coming home and complaining about him and even once returned in tears. It took everything he had to not rip the bastard’s throat out. But he was done with you being abused. You deserved better. Which is exactly what he told you now as you lay with him on the hood of his car.

The plans had been altered slightly, you would be watching the movie with him the next day. He’d skipped the fancy sushi and instead opted for your favourite comfort food – Chinese cuisine. Slurping down saucy noodles, and munching on crispy gyoza always made you feel better he knew and he found himself smiling at your joy. He’d then driven you to his secret viewpoint. You sat there on the hood of his car with him beside you. In the distance, the pretty lights of Tokyo lit up the horizon and reflected off your lover's red eyes. Above you, the stars twinkled in their own magic…

Something about you had him wrapped around your finger. One of the most feared yakuza, putty in your hands. Of course, no one knew the connection. It was all kept hushed for your convenience.

“Kitty-kat?” Sukuna called to you and you looked up at your man. “You know— you know I’m rich enough to support both of us easily right?”

You hummed. “Yes, but I don’t wanna be some dainty housewife, sitting and waiting for my husband to come home and serve him dinner Ryo! I have a whole ass degree that a lot of money was spent on, I’d like to use it babe!”

“Husband?”

“What?”

“You said, husband. Not boyfriend. Or SO. Or partner. You said husband.”

“Yeah… I said husband…”

“You wanna marry me?”

“I mean, yeah, eventually right?”

Sukuna crashed his lips into yours in a heated kiss; all teeth and tongue. He pulled your body close, pressing against you. “I want you so bad right now, future wife. I want you so fucking badly.” He half growled in your ear.

“You have me Ryo. I’m right here.” you replied. You tugged at Sukunas pants and he unbuckled his belt. Sukuna grinded against your thigh while kissing you. His hands tugged at the buttons on your blouse, undoing them as he went. You could feel the bulge growing in his jeans. He kissed down from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck down to the valley of your breasts.

“I wanna fuck you.” He looked at you with a lidded gaze “May I? I won’t be able to stop if we go further than this kitty-kat.”

You lifted your leg to rub against his clothed cock. “I’d leave you right now if you didn’t, Sukuna Ryomen. So fuck me already.” Sukuna flashed you a fanged smile and dipped his head pulling down your bra and freeing your breasts. He bit and licked and sucked, actions that were sure to leave marks on you. Further south his fingers pushed aside your panties and found entrance. He slowly worked his way into you, rubbing gentle circles in your skin. You allowed yourself to let go and dirty moans slipped out from your lips. Your fingers tangled in his pink hair – so soft, so smooth.

Once he had you dripping, he lay back down and ordered, “Sit on my face, and suck my cock while you’re at it.”

You followed, undoing his zipper and pulling his boxers and jeans off his semi-hard cock. You tentatively licked his head as you positioned your pussy right about his face. Sukuna pushed your skirt up and ripped your panties with a practised ease, pulling your hips down to his face. He loved having you like that. Every time he flicked his tongue against your clit your pussy would visibly tighten. You’d drool down the length of his cock hypnotised. Tongue flat against it as you struggled to maintain composure. It wouldn’t take long for him to make you cum all over his face for the first time. Legs quivering and hips shaking he brought you down again, laying you on the hood for him.

He lined up his cock – now rock hard from your mouth – with your entrance and sank into you. Slowly pushing his bulbous head, followed by his girthy length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Sukuna thrust up into you. Your lips were hot and burning. You felt a wave of emotion come through and tears welled up in your eyes.

“Fuck Ryo— feels s’good!”

Sukuna snarled and increased his pace. His eyes glinted dangerously. “Feels good, huh kitty-kat! Gonna make you mine. No man’s gonna dare fuck with you again.” His movements were rough and jagged but drew out the pleasure in your core. The tightly wound knot in your abdomen built up with each movement, each drawn out pull, each hard thrust. You arched your back desperate to have him more, more, more!

Your second climax hit just as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your cunt spasmed, clasping around him and you cried out his name in a debauched prayer.

Sukuna looked more composed than he felt. His cock throbbed inside you, attuned to the flutters of your pussy. Just because you’d come didn’t mean he would stop. He chased his own release inside of you pulling your hair back, devouring your lips. His cock bullied you to the point of overstimulation. Tears ran down your cheeks again but this time they were those of pleasure.

He came, towering over you, eyes squeezed shut, head buried in the crook of your neck. His giant frame collapsed onto you and he carefully rolled off to the side so he wouldn't crush you.

“So, about that husband thing…”

You turned to look at him, blushing. “Ryo…”

He held up a ring; the ring his father left him. Gold work, carved into a dragon that held a shiny black pearl in its claws.

“I’ll get you a prettier one later, I promise but for now…” he took a deep breath. “Marry me, kitty-kat?”

A/N: please note this was a very hurried creation and edit, if you do find any errors or typos feel free to point them out KINDLY. Thank you for reading.

As always likes and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will earn you kissies!

[uo6ep]

with every burning tear unshed my suit is ever neater we’re with this net forever wed the deep and the vaquita 

[cyberthetyler]

us in another universe — Sonadow AU fic

Across a dozen universes, Shadow has tracked Sonic down just to kill him in every one. This time, he’s determined to find Shadow first and save his little brother Tails and finally break their immortal curse… without falling in love, again.

[majimemegoro]

NOW COMPLETE

Majima gets a chance to relive his life starting from ‘85. So this time, he’s going to make sure everything is perfect.

That should be easy, right?

NOW COMPLETE