#a character with such a layered background of trauma

[writingnekoo]

Odysseus' character analysis & how we overlook his trauma

Okay, this will be a long post about Odysseus and what could be happening in his head after his return to Ithaca because I really need to share these ideas <3

During the last few days I've been thinking about the whole Poseidon-obssesed-with-Odysseus concept (thanks to @rin-solo for inspiration :)), and that's how I recalled one headcanon of mine about Odysseus and his possible perception of his conflict with Poseidon.

A disclaimer first: I know that Epic is sometimes historically and culturally inaccurate, but! I want to include some of the cultural norms of ancient times because they will make things much more interesting.

So, since early August I've had an idea that Odysseus' personality during the post-Odyssey timeline would be heavily influenced by PTSD. That's just reasonable: the war takes its toll on the person anyway, especially on the warrior like Odysseus. He saw the nightmares of the Trojan War, lost his comrades and faced things that made him lose his sleep.

I actually like how Odysseus' trauma is depicted in Epic. We have these parts with the voices of Polites, Eurylochus and Anticlea and see just how much these losses affected Odysseus (take the ending of "Love in Paradise"). But instead of focusing on the losses like the musical does I'd rather talk about those who had caused them. It's a curious thing about the mentality of those who survived the war and similar events: their mind tends to demonize and hate those who caused pain deeply. It produces the ultimate hatred that is able to overcome any other feeling. This is the idea that I want to pursue in my Monster AU (might write about it later because that's another long talk) about the overwhelming feeling, produced by trauma, that can't be distinguished. And Odysseus is the only character in the story who has endured that twenty-year long nightmare: his comrades from the Trojan War didn't have the decade of journey back home behind their backs, and those who sailed with Odysseus died.

But there's one more layer to this scenario. While we've covered the idea about the war victim demonizing the aggressor, we can't forget that we're talking about the religious society of ancient times. Poseidon and Zeus are the two godly villains of Odysseus' story. However, they're also the god of the tides, who must've been one of the most widely worshiped in Ithaca (since it's an island... yeah), and the King of the gods.

That leaves Odysseus in an even more complex situation. Because he most likely highly respected both of them for his whole life. Eventually, they left Odysseus ruined. The people of Ithaca didn't stop worshipping them, and Odysseus has to follow the same religious rituals and celebrate annual festivities, which definitely reminds him of what had happened.

Once again, no one understands what he's gone through. Even Penelope and Telemachus, no matter how supportive they are. Thus, the trauma is left unseen and unhealed. Too bad there was no therapy in the ancient world, Odysseus would've needed it.

Finally, this whole set of reasons serves as a perfect background for deep and tragic obsession with those who hurt him and inability to let go of the past. Do the voices fall silent after Odysseus defeats all the enemies? No, they probably don't. Because even though physically Odysseus is already home, mentally, he's still fighting with the ghosts of his enemies. This is a desperate feeling that belongs to a broken man who no longer fits into society like he used to. And it eats him alive, kills him from the inside. No ruthlessness or bloodshed can help Odysseus to run from this despair. It fact, they might only make it worth by reminding who made him a monster! :)

Generally... this is pretty much it. The whole idea of all-consuming despair and trauma is what I've wanted to pursue here because I find it very natural in terms of everything that Odysseus has been through. I'd also like to analyze the whole Vengeance saga (especially my fav Six Hundred Strike) from this perspective because it actually makes perfect sense for me, but that's one more long post of another time lmao.

[acaciapines]

on today's episode of 'acaica's background thoughts for the dess raises kris au': okay but lets be serious do dess and chara actually stay together in the end--

[lyramundana]

For years, my mind has been filled with a very, extremely specific x reader fic with Bang Chan, Lee Minho and Han Jisung, and Hwang Hyunjin, where the four of them have an individual romance with three different foreign girls, who also happen to be sisters. However, because the scenarios in my mind were constantly changing and I never had the courage to write an entire fanfic, it all stayed in my mind, only for me to see and know. 

But since I’ve recently come to discover how relaxing it feels to get them out of your system by posting them here and having other people join my delussions, I’ll start to write those small ideas I have come up with lately and sharing them here for the world to see. 

How I’ll start? I have no idea.

[luna-azzurra]

Exploring Character Backstory

1. Start with the essentials: Begin by outlining the basic information about your character's past, such as their family background, upbringing, education, and early experiences. Consider their cultural, social, and economic background, as these factors can shape their worldview and values.

2. Identify key events and milestones: Determine significant events or milestones in your character's life that have had a profound impact on them. These could include positive or negative experiences, such as the loss of a loved one, a major achievement, a traumatic incident, or a life-changing decision. These events help shape your character's personality, fears, and aspirations.

3. Examine formative relationships: Explore the relationships your character has had with their family, friends, mentors, or romantic partners. How have these relationships influenced them? What role models or influences have shaped their values, beliefs, and behavior? Relationships can provide insight into your character's vulnerabilities, strengths, and emotional attachments.

4. Dig into their beliefs and values: Understand what your character believes in and values. Examine their moral compass, political views, religious beliefs, or philosophical outlook. Consider how their beliefs might clash or align with the conflicts they encounter in the story. This will create depth and authenticity in their character development.

5. Uncover secrets and hidden aspects: Delve into your character's secrets, hidden desires, or aspects of their past that they prefer to keep hidden. Secrets can create internal conflicts, fuel character growth, and add intrigue to the story. They can also reveal vulnerabilities or flaws that make your character more relatable and complex.

6. Consider the impact of societal factors: Explore how societal factors such as gender, race, class, or historical context have influenced your character's experiences and identity. These factors can shape their struggles, opportunities, and perspectives. Understanding the societal context in which your character exists adds layers of depth to their backstory.

7. Connect the backstory to the main story: Once you have explored the character's backstory, identify how it relates to the main story. Determine how their past experiences, relationships, or traumas influence their present motivations, conflicts, and goals. This connection will ensure that the backstory serves a purpose in the narrative and contributes to the character's growth.

8. Use backstory selectively: While backstory is essential for understanding your character, avoid excessive exposition or information dumping. Introduce elements of the backstory gradually, through dialogue, memories, or subtle hints. This helps maintain reader interest and allows the character's past to unfold organically throughout the story.

Remember, not all aspects of the character's backstory need to be explicitly mentioned in the narrative. It's important to choose and reveal elements that have the most significant impact on the character's present circumstances and development.

[forsworned]

It’s said canonically that simon riley has trauma around intimacy from torture 😔 If you feel comfortable writing it, can I please ask for a short fic of an Afab reader body worshipping/lovingly pleasuring Simon after they both work through his trauma and he’s getting all soft and emotional and babbling about how good reader is making him feel and how much he loves them and can’t believe someone cares about him this much? I always liked the idea of Simon being portrayed as vulnerable and soft and not this dom sex god a lot of people portray him to be. I really love your work and would love to see your take on this request :)

Soft ft. Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Author's Note: So I do recall someone making a post about this and I have to say I do not agree with everything. Men definitely process trauma, specifically sexual trauma a lot differently than women do. While women experience guilt, men experience anger. And maybe it's not all men who experience it that way, but after reading the comic and making my own assessment, I can say that Simon does have lingering anger. Of course, he is hell-bent on avenging his dead family, but all that pent-up energy could be going toward trying to even the score. He is pretty level-headed and able to compartmentalize. He has support from his comrades as well as undergoes mandatory rigorous mental health assessments because that's military protocol. He needs to be able to perform his duties on the field without putting himself or others at risk. He also most certainly gets mandatory counseling. Although he may be reluctant, his superiors are very much aware of the possible impact that it has on his mental health. So all that to say that Simon is not without help. He is not as "damaged" as people may perceive him to be. He's not a broken individual. As seen in the remastered MW's, albeit reluctant he can clearly put his trust in others. He develops relationships with the people who he works closely with meaning he is capable of change. SIGH. I just wish people would break this down a little more, but I do get what you're saying. His masculinity, trust issues, and the type of secret operations he goes on can lessen the effectiveness of the therapy. He's definitely a very complex character with layers to him, but I just don't think he's as weak as you may think he is. It's also important to note that it hasn't been confirmed that this current Simon went through the same thing. He could have a completely different background. Honestly, Activision is so fucking inconsistent but ANYWAYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I hope you enjoy this. Also if you read this all the way through, I applaud you. But thank you for enjoying my work, I didn't mean to critique you and your request, but I just couldn't let it slide LOL

Warnings: PnV sex, AFAB!Reader, Some Canon Simon Lore, Sexual Content, Mentions of Sexual Trauma

"Si—Simon..."

You sigh out in pleasure with every roll of your hips as you grind down on him. Your clit grazes against his lower abdomen, and his cock stretches you out pliant. Fingers dig into his shoulders, marking half crescents into his pale, scarred skin. But something feels off.

His hands loosen their grip on your hips, and upon opening your eyes you find him his half-lidded gaze distant in a familiar haze. He isn't present.

"Simon." You halt the rutting of your hips, cupping his stubbly cheeks. "Are you alright?"

His onyx hues fixate on you. He is clearly readjusting his withdrawn eyes to refocus on you. You didn't want to say it yet, but you had felt him go a little soft a few seconds prior. "We can stop."

"No, no." His fingers squeeze your middle as he sits up a bit. You shake your head, but he's not letting up. "Why stop?"

You firmly grasp his face and his blonde lashes flutter up at you with a seemingly unreadable expression, but you're no stranger to Simon's detachment. Although he loathes to admit it, it happens. The relearning of being intimate is tumultuous for him.

"Because you're not mentally here, my love."

He frowns. "But I want y'to finish."

You exhale sharply. He doesn't even deny it. "No, Simon. I'd feel disgusted with myself if I finished while you weren't here with me."

He struggles to reply. In all honesty, he doesn't know what to say. It's not exactly a common occurrence, but he's not too keen on having a conversation about it. You never pry though. His therapy sessions are his own, unless, of course, you join him if he so desires.

Couples counseling is mandatory. A rule you established when you first decided to tie the knot. If you had problems that were beyond just a sit-down talk, a professional would have to intervene. And Simon agreed. No fuss, no muss. To preserve the sacredness of your relationship, he'd do anything.

He sighs. "'m sorry, dovie." He caresses your sides, feeling the gooseberries on your skin rise. A small smile adorns his lips and you giggle at his smugness.

"Stop it." You begin to get off of him, but Simon holds you firmly. You feel his dick harden inside of you, now kissing your cervix. A little gasp escapes your chest as you readjust yourself.

"Y'like tha'?" Simon's grinning now. It's his confidence gleaming through the abysmal darkness of his mind. The life in his eyes feels revitalized, and you now feel his vigor—literally.

"Yes, but..."

"'m here, love." He reaffirms, squeezing your waist again. "'m here. Please, 'm achin' for you."

He groans a bit and bucks his hips when he feels you pulsate around him. You return your own moan, leaning forward but his fingers thread through your hair and he brings you into a sloppy, heated kiss. His hips thrust into you slowly and deeply, earning a guttural moan from him.

For a moment as you withdrew from the kiss, your gazes meet and Simon's eyes soften and become glossy with tears that brim over his oculars and spill over the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, baby." You coo, holding him close as you kiss his face. His sadness is silent, yet palpable. You're now babbling sweet, sweet words to him as you pepper him with kisses, and Simon holds you as if you're going to slip away. You gently guide him through the double inhale technique you learned from your therapist, and with the sweetness of your voice, the kindness in your eyes, and the tenderness of your touch, he feels at ease.

"I dunno how y'put up with me."

You grin, kissing the corner of his lip. "It ain't easy."

"Oh?" He flips you over on your back, pressing you firmly against the mattress and you giggle into the nape of his neck. "Wanna say that again, love?"

You thread your fingers through his sandy blonde hair and kiss the tip of his nose. "You're not hard to love, Simon."

His eyes soften once more and he kisses you deeply. Simon has never cherished anyone more in his life. You were always so patient and kind from the jump. You were truly the "greater woman" behind the "great man".

He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes as you gently card your fingers in his hair.

"Thank you, lovie."

[aventurineswife]

Yes YES YES

The mmorning after, aventurine just looking at reader who is still sleeping, admiring them (and the love bites he left behind) and wondering how he got so lucky to have someone like them in his life.

Bonus points if reader when they wake up, they reach out to hold his face or ruffle his hair and sleeply call him by his real name

“You are the Reason”

Summary: In a tender morning scene, Aventurine, lies in bed with his partner, watching them sleep. As dawn light filters through the curtains, he reflects on the intimate moments they've shared and the vulnerability he feels in their presence. Their quiet exchange reveals the depth of their connection with Aventurine struggling between his chaotic life as a gambler and the desire for peace and permanence he finds in love.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Vulnerability, Redemption, Emotional Connection, You make him want to keep living 🫶, Healing, Morning Scene, Intimate.

Warnings: Mild Intimacy, Brief mention of character trauma.

A/N: HEHE!! 🤭 THIS WAS SO CUTEEE AND HONESTLY I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN!!

Inspired by and this

The dawn was soft and pale, casting delicate rays that slowly seeped through the heavy curtains. It painted the room in a golden haze, warming the shadows and quietly coaxing the world awake. Yet in the bed, wrapped in sheets and tangled with you, Aventurine had no desire to leave the comfort of your embrace. He lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, quietly admiring the sight of you at rest.

His fingers absentmindedly traced along your shoulder, his touch featherlight as he brushed over the faint love bites dotting your skin. Each mark was a reminder of the intensity they had shared, moments that lingered like a secret between you both, whispers only the two of you would understand. His gaze softened, drinking in every inch of you, from the way your hair spilled across the pillow to the peaceful rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

For Aventurine, life had always been a gamble, a calculated series of moves and maneuvers. He had won and lost fortunes, outwitted powerful enemies, and survived odds that no one else would dare to wager on. But none of that prepared him for the risk of letting someone into his life like this—of allowing himself to be vulnerable and open. And yet, with you, it felt effortless.

He’d never thought he’d be someone who’d lie in bed simply to watch another person sleep. The irony of it was almost amusing. This was supposed to be his time for scheming, his time for planning the next strategic move. But in your presence, those plans faded into the background, dwarfed by the warmth that filled him as he gazed at you. You brought out something in him he didn’t quite recognize—a part that longed for a sense of peace and permanence in an otherwise chaotic world.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the subtle shift in your breathing as you began to stir. You turned toward him, eyes slowly blinking open, still heavy with sleep. He couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, an endearing mix of confusion and affection in your drowsy gaze. Without a word, you reached up, brushing your fingers gently against his cheek, as if to make sure he was really there.

“Kakavasha…” you murmured, barely above a whisper, using the name he rarely allowed anyone to utter. Hearing his true name, the one he kept hidden beneath the layers of his public persona, stirred something deep within him. For a man who wore masks and dealt in secrets, hearing his name on your lips felt like a balm, a reminder of who he was beneath it all.

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly, savoring the warmth of your hand against his face. Your fingers slipped into his hair, toying with the strands in a slow, lazy motion. It was such a simple gesture, yet it made his heart beat faster, filling him with a tenderness he hadn’t thought himself capable of feeling.

“Good morning.” you mumbled, your smile sleepy and soft as you brushed your thumb across his cheekbone.

“Good morning, love.” he replied, his voice low, filled with a gentleness he saved only for you. Aventurine’s hand covered yours, holding it against his cheek, reluctant to let go of this connection. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to feel your skin warm beneath his lips.

You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to him, your head resting against his chest. “How did I get so lucky to have you?” he mused aloud, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if the question was meant only for himself.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a smile that held a hint of mischief, despite the drowsiness still clouding your gaze. “Maybe the universe decided you deserved a little happiness too.” you murmured, your voice as soft as a secret.

Aventurine chuckled, the sound deep and comforting as he tightened his hold on you, drawing you closer still. He brushed his lips against your hair, inhaling the familiar scent that was unmistakably yours. “If that’s the case,” he said, his tone almost reverent, “then I must be the luckiest man alive.”

You laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet room like a melody, and he felt his heart swell at the sound. In this moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in your shared sanctuary, wrapped in warmth and each other’s presence.

As he held you, Aventurine couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift back to all the hardships he’d endured—the losses, the betrayals, the near-misses with death. He had always believed that his life would be one long, lonely road filled with battles and clever games, where the only reward was survival itself. But here, with you in his arms, he dared to hope for more. He dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d found something worth more than any gamble he’d ever taken.

“Stay with me.” he whispered, more to himself than to you, but you heard it. You reached up, placing your hand over his heart, feeling its steady beat beneath your fingers.

“Always.” you murmured, your voice a sleepy promise that felt like a vow. Your eyes began to drift shut again, and you nuzzled closer, seeking his warmth. As you nestled against him, your breathing slowly evened out, slipping back into sleep with a serene smile on your lips.

Aventurine stayed like that, watching over you, content to hold you in his arms as the morning light gradually grew brighter. The world outside was waiting, filled with challenges, schemes, and risks he would inevitably have to face. But for now, in this quiet moment, he allowed himself to simply be Kakavasha—a man deeply, irrevocably in love, willing to bet everything he had to protect the rare and precious happiness he’d found in you.

[dollsinvogue]

It’s come to my attention that apparently many of you have not seen the movie Us and you don’t understand how amazing some of the accessories are! I’m a huge fan of easter eggs in character designs and I love this movie! ✂️ 🐇

(This post may contain spoilers, if you can I highly recommend watching this movie)

These two characters are Adelaide in white and Red in red. They are both played by Lupita Nyong’o and are meant to be tethered/mirrored versions of each other.

Starting off we have the box art background which was already previously leaked, it is of young Adelaide at a fair and it shows the house of mirrors she gets lost in which is a very important role in the movie

Then we have the classroom with stick figures on the chalkboard on the box, this is from the underground classrooms and is a drawing of all the tethered people

if you’ve heard of Us you should definitely know about Red’s scissors, you could not make a doll without these scissors, they were all over promotional posters, not only are they creepy but they do also represent something important for Red in the film

Red’s earrings are paper cut outs of tethered people and Adelaide’s earrings are the handcuffs that Red locked her up in

Adelaide’s outfit keeps core elements with the layering but the blood looks amazing and I’m so happy they went with it, she also has a pattern which I believe is bunnies but I could be wrong

Adelaide’s hair accessory is a fire poker, her main weapon in the movie

Adelaide has charms on her belt and I couldn’t tell what they were but my friend @the-ghost-rat pointed out that the top one is a ballerina! Ballet is a way that Adelaide expressed herself after she went through a trauma. The dolls also both wear pointe shoes which is a detail that I saw confused some people but I love it (also I love that they included some blood on the shoes!)

And finally (for now) the pet bunnies may seem random if you haven’t seen the movie (honestly the bunnies were a confusing part of the movie on a first watch) but there are a lot of bunnies in the film, it’s not just some random thing they threw in there I can’t even explain it

Another detail I really love is that Red looks like she is crying (at least in the art she does) and it is a beautiful detail to include. I can’t wait for these dolls to release and get better photos of them!

[oreo-oro-orero]

I honestly think that Ekko's trauma is often overlooked or outright pushed aside and ignored by a large section of the Arcane fandom.

Now this does make sense to some degree, Ekko is a side character so it makes sense why he's not as discussed as the main characters of the show but it feels like even as a side character he is often cast aside.

It feels like everyone analyzes every other character thoroughly and for good reason, these are very multi-layered characters but it also feels like with Ekko they barely even give him a side glance and when they do talk about his hurt it seems like they only extend to Jinx. While Jinx is a very large piece of it (seriously they have a whole other thing going on) she definitely is not the only thing lingering on in his mind. I mean he saw his basically uncle get killed in front of him, he is the leader of a resistance group and he also basically lost his entire family in one night, like have you seen the bags under his eyes, that boy is stressed out but it feels like these aspects of his character are ignored by the community.

Honestly his treatment within the fandom mirrors what a lot of black people go through our trauma and hurt is brought up. It is either brushed aside or outright ignored with it often being countered with "that was a long time ago" and this is especially seen with little black girls and boys. The fandom analyzes almost everything within the show from full blown characters to little background details but yet Ekko is often left out of the equation in these discussions and it just makes me a little bit annoyed.

Ekko also suffers from what a lot of other black characters in media do which is the almost bad faith criticisms or misinterpreted thrown them. It feels like a lot of black characters are held up to a standard that no other character gets held too and where their actions are taken in the most negative light on purpose. I haven't seen this that much but I have seen it a handful of times, where people will villainize Ekko and say that he is "getting in the way" of Zaun's liberation which is wild because Ekko out of everyone in the show is the only person that positively effects Zaun and it's people. You even see this in shipping where Ekko is label an abuser or aggressive.

Overall I know this probably doesn't really matter and most of the fandom probably likes Ekko but I just wanted to vent a little bit 😭 and I just hope in S2 they flesh out his character and that the fandom starts to take more notice of him.

Thanks to @letters-to-rosie for helping me think about this more.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (13)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, trauma, regret, depression, mention of a suicide attempt ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Daemon understood better than anyone what it meant to be the second son, the one who would inherit nothing. It seemed to him that, in contrast to Viserys, he was a blazing fire like a true dragon, giving warmth, light and shelter to those close to his heart, burning those whom he saw as his enemies.

Viserys was always blind, soft-spoken, lacking strong character and clear opposition when things got too far out of hand.

This trait of his had been carefully exploited by Otto Hightower over the years, putting himself in the role of his friend and adviser, playing his part with an extraordinary devotion from which he felt like throwing up.

He knew it was pure courtesy, perfectly calculated, taking advantage of the mourning of the entire Red Keep and his inattention after Aemma's tragic death he slipped his brother his daughter under his nose.

Looking at her on their wedding day, standing in a long, ornate gown he thought she looked like a child on whom someone had put layers of cloth and precious stones; overwhelmed by it all she looked down at her feet, around her nails the red wounds he had seen on her hands ever since.

On that one day, knowing what was awaiting her, he truly felt compassion for her.

After that, however, he stopped.

She could have built her independence, committed herself to the needs of the kingdom, she, however, in the company of that cunt, Criston Cole, gave herself over to prayer and mortification, obediently following her father's orders.

As a woman, she was in his eyes pitiful, weepy, whiny, merely pretending to be saintly and virtuous, having in fact nothing to do with these qualities.

His feelings about her and her father moved involuntarily to her children.

He recognised the dragon's blood in them and treated them differently from the Hightowers, yet he was unable or unwilling to bond with them, seeing how they were suckled to their mother's breasts, which did not allow them to think or breathe on their own.

He watched from the sidelines, observing from afar as Rhaenyra and Alicent's children trained together, how a divide formed between them. He knew that once they grew up and understood what was really at stake, they would throw themselves at each other's throats.

He knew perfectly well whose right to the throne he would support.

Aegon was a drunkard and a cunt, Helaena was quiet and withdrawn, Aemond was sullen and vindictive − he thought with amusement that each of them had inherited the worst from his brother and their mother.

However, he couldn't help but show at least a little compassion and understanding for his brother's second son, who had been punished by the gods, left without a dragon of his own.

Some part of him wanted to speak to him, to get to know him, to see through him as a kind of reflection of himself, but on those rare occasions when he was with Leana and his daughters in the Red Keep he never made such a gesture, which he later, though he did not want to admit it to himself, regretted.

Perhaps things would have turned out differently then.

He could see with what admiration he looked at him, how much he longed to hear at least one word of appreciation from him, any gesture of interest.

He knew that if he could decide who his father-figure would be he would choose not Viserys or Cole but him, and he pretended not to notice that.

Once though, he noticed something that surprised him; strolling through the cloisters of the Red Keep he spotted his nephew and Rhaenyra's only daughter standing side by side in the square, leaning over the table filled with the various weapons. He smirked under his breath as he walked closer, wanting to listen to their conversation.

They were betrothed.

A clumsy attempt by his brother to avoid what he felt in his bones had to happen.

He saw his niece point her finger at one of the weapons lying on the wooden tabletop, a steel black spiked ball hooked on a chain to a special handle.

"What is it? It looks scary." She said with amusement, her voice light and pleasant; he thought with surprise that his nephew's grim and stormy nature did not deter her.

Alicent's son grunted loudly, lifting his chin slightly in a gesture of superiority and intelligence that he hated so much about the Hightowers, clearly proud to be able to speak on a subject in which his knowledge was extensive.

"It's a flail. A very heavy weapon requiring great strength and agility in its use. It literally crushes the opponent." He said, forcing himself into a low, mature, masculine voice, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his hair in a slight disarray from the few duels he had already had.

"That weapon looks like the kind you die from in agony." Mumbled his niece, tentatively touching her fingertip to one of the spikes – her uncle pushed her away immediately, surprised by her gesture, grabbing her hand by the wrist.

"Are you insane? What are you doing? It's sharp after all, you could have hurt yourself." He said angrily, but she only blinked, surprised by his outburst, and smiled indulgently, showing him her finger.

"I know, silly. I wouldn't want something like that to hit me in the face." She sneered, raising her eyebrows in amusement, joy in her gaze and embarrassment at the fact that he still hadn't let her go.

She took a step closer to him, but he stepped back quickly and lowered his gaze, he noticed in disbelief that his pale cheeks had turned scarlet.

"Not here. Later." He muttered letting go of her wrist immediately. He heard her quiet sigh of disappointment as she nodded and walked away without another word.

He watched as, a moment later, his nephew cursed under his breath, pulling off his leather gloves and moved after her, grabbing her at one of the side entrances by her arm. She turned to him with a smile as if she was sure he would follow her, her lips placing a quick, brief kiss on his cheek.

He let her go, embarrassed and blushing, looking sideways, muttered something, and she nodded and disappeared behind the walls. His nephew returned to the square as if nothing had happened, a lazy, barely visible smile on his face; Aegon looked at him from afar with a look full of pity, as soon as his younger brother came closer he said loud and clear:

"What a twat you are."

He snarled under his breath as he heard Criston Cole immediately respond to his remark by saying that it was inappropriate for a prince to use such vocabulary, his younger brother only gave him a grim look indicating that he himself was torn internally, ashamed of his weakness.

He thought then, moving ahead, amused, that his brother had inadvertently contributed to something that was certainly not his original plan.

These kids really wanted it.

He felt shame because, looking at them, he wondered how he really felt about his wife. He recognised that she was his companion and lover, whom he respected and cherished, but she was not his friend, he could not allow her into the depths of his heart.

Only when he saw Rheanyra did he feel something more; he had the feeling that the air around them quivered when they spoke, he sensed that she understood perfectly the source and reason of his impulsive nature.

Despite this, he found his life peaceful and prosperous, and the death of his wife in childbirth was something shocking and painful to him. He covered his grief with laughter, the thought that he had wasted years of her life, a wonderful, beautiful woman who deserved someone to love her with all her being, giving her something more than a substitute of affection.

Then, however, his nephew lost an eye and everything fell apart like a house of cards, showing how weak their family actually was.

The events that followed wove together in his mind, the closeness of Rhaenyra and their later nuptials brought him a sense of relief, as if two parts that belonged together had been joined.

He watched her daughter from afar, the sadness and grief painted on her after all still so young and innocent face made her seem to him pale and lifeless, at once beautiful, cool and inaccessible, walking around Dragonstone like a ghost, not speaking to anyone despite how much his daughters tried to get close to her.

She was warm, helpful and welcoming when anyone approached her, but did not raise any discussions herself, eating and drinking little at suppers, immersed in her thoughts.

He knew that she was with them only in body.

He decided not to make the same mistake as with his nephew and offer her his interest, his support in the ironic and mischievous form peculiar to him, the only way in which he could show his affection to anyone.

What surprised him was how much she clung to him, how often she cried during their walks together; despite her innate vulnerability she had a strength of character that he appreciated – she was inclined to rash actions or anger, but she was also not docile or naive, she tried to find order in the chaos that surrounded her.

Only he and his niece had been invited to Aegon's nuptials to Helaena; Alicent had expressed in her letter her concern that the meeting of their children might affect them badly and reawaken old wounds, which his wife took as a reasonable argument, and indeed, albeit reluctantly, it was only the two of them who travelled to the Red Keep.

The whole ceremony in the Great Sept dragged on endlessly for him; he looked around, bored, unwilling to stare at the horrified, sad faces of his nephew and niece, testament to the fact that neither of them wanted this marriage.

The wedding supper held in the fortress was lavish with dancing and music, lords from all over the kingdom descended and gathered in the throne room at large, long oak tables filled to the brim with food. Sitting down in his seat next to his wife, he glanced sideways and noticed a figure looking at him intensely, the One-Eyed Prince staring at him coolly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief and admiration, finding that he looked like a man, well-built and muscular, tall, his hair much longer, a black eye patch covering the left side of his face.

He grinned with amusement and mockery, wondering to what he owed his attention, and his nephew only hummed under his breath, looking away, apparently discouraged by his reaction.

He wondered, looking at him, taking a sip of wine from his goblet, if he had shown him fatherly concern then, taken him under his wing, separated him from Alicent and Otto, he would be a different man now.

Several toasts were made to the bride and groom, during each of which Aegon drank his cup to the bottom, clearly intent on fulfilling his marital duty completely drunk.

"Stop it. You've had enough." Growled his younger brother, taking his goblet from him with an aggressive flick of his hand, setting it impatiently far from his older brother's reach.

Aegon slapped him angrily on the shoulder, mumbling something under his breath; his younger brother stood up, towering over him, showing him wordlessly that if he touched him again he would regret it.

"Aemond." Said their mother, this green whore, who was looking at them in pain, her hands folded in front of her as if to pray.

His nephew rolled his eyes and left the hall by a side entrance, furious, unwilling and unable to look at it apparently; Aegon with a wide grin reached for his cup again and to his despair took the empty seat next to him that had been occupied earlier by his wife, now conversing with the King.

"Uncle! So many years." He mumbled, tapping him on the back in a friendly, masculine greeting. He rolled his eyes, amused, smelling the stench of alcohol and sweat from him.

"As you can see, everything stays in the family. I don't know how I'm going to survive this. After all, she'll surely cry. Fuck." He muttered, taking a deep, catchy sip from his cup, tilting it so that he drank it all at once.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, feeling discomfort at the thought that he felt compassion for Helaena for what was about to happen to her.

He glanced at her sad, petite figure; she sat gazing off into the distance somewhere, dreamy.

He wondered as he watched her if she realised what awaited her.

"She doesn't seem to fully understand what I will have to do to her. After all, she's my sister. I don't want to hurt her. She's odd and I don't understand her, but I don't want her to fucking cry." He mumbled out covering his face with his hand, his voice breaking with his every word – he drew in air loudly as if he was out of breath, and he looked at him not knowing what to do.

What was he supposed to answer him?

"Be gentle and kind. Make her feel as little pain as possible. You know very well that how it will look lies in your hands. If you want her to suffer as little as possible, stop drinking because it will take you a fucking hour." He growled, taking the cup from his hand just as his younger brother had earlier, and wondered if that was what he meant then, if he knew his condition would only worsen whatever was to await them next.

"You pity yourself and you smell of alcohol and sweat. Go take a bath or do you want to lay on her like that? Give her some dignity for goodness sake." He said coolly, looking ahead indifferently; his nephew swallowed loudly, sitting beside him like a little rebuked child, playing with his fingers.

He wondered, looking at him out of the corner of his eye if his brother had ever spoken to him about it, if he had prepared him and explained to him how he should behave.

"All my life I've envied him. My brother. He had someone of his own who cared about him. I think he really loved her, uncle. Now I barely recognise anyone myself. I'm not sure any of us are the same person anymore. Only Helaena has remained the same − innocent and ignorant. That's because she doesn't step outside her mind. If she did, she would have gone mad like we did."

It turned out that he was partly right.

What he didn't expect was that when they arrived all together as a family after several years in King's Landing to defend Luke's rights to inherit the Driftmark these two would be lying in bed with each other on their very first night.

"If you tell me you still want to marry him, I will help you. I'd rather you be his wife than lead you and him into a scandal that could destroy your mother. Your betrothal has never been called off, the king will easily prove that no other plans for you can be in force against his decision. But if you decide not to, I will personally see to it that you never see him again and that no letter of yours leaves Dragonstone. Make a manly, mature decision with all its consequences, and stop wallowing over yourself."

He told her then, wanting her to understand that they could not stand in the middle, that they had to choose, or their decisions would drag them all down.

Watching them in the throne room audience, however, the greedy, desperate gaze of his nephew fixed on her as if he wanted to devour her gave him no illusions.

What this boy was telling himself was one thing, but what he was feeling was another.

It was this thought that made him decide to question Alicent's decision in front of everyone, wanting to hear his brother's opinion on the matter, the only one that really counted. He had expected nothing but objections from both sides, however, against the desperate attempts of their mothers, his nephew and his niece's daughter made a decision that did not surprise him at all.

It was enough for her to get up from her seat and walk out to make him press his lips together in rage and follow her out, exactly as he had done then, in the courtyard, when he had thrown himself after her, and she knew perfectly well that he would do so, knowing his nature.

He wondered if she had kissed him this time too, if the tension between them had eased.

He thought that this marriage might actually calm the emotions a little, especially as his brother was over his deathbed.

This union was forcing both parties to be cautious, which could be mutually beneficial.

"She has decided that she wants to stay in the Red Keep until I return." His wife said to him, putting her black leather gloves on her hands, walking beside him towards the dragon's lair. He stopped, looking at her in disbelief, furious.

This was not the plan.

"What?" He growled, looking at her as if she had completely lost her mind. "You're leaving my daughter in the care of that whore and her father-traitor?"

He saw that she smiled at his words emphasising that in his eyes she was his child, that he had taken responsibility for her and protected her as any true father should.

"She asked me to do this. I imagine they both want to clarify a lot of things with each other. Since the nuptials are to take place as soon as possible there is no need to fret, I will personally take her back in a few days." She replied calmly, and he let out a loud breath, impatiently licking his lips.

It was a bad idea, he could feel it in his bones, but he didn't protest and that was his mistake.

The next day he lost two of his daughters.

Rhaenyra, his brother's heir to the throne fell with a groan when envoys reported to her that her father was dead, that her brother had been crowned king, that they had imprisoned their daughter.

She cried out loudly in pain, clutching at her womb; at first he thought it was despair, but then he saw the pool of blood beneath her feet, her terrified gaze, her lips parted in agony.

They both knew it was too soon.

Their daughter already looked like a tiny infant, but sadly her fate was sealed; she wasn't moving or breathing, she was cold, looking more like a doll than a human being.

He felt that he had to leave the fortress; he followed exactly where he always went out with her, with one of his daughters, to the sea itself, and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily, not knowing what he was supposed to do with the rage and chaos that overtook his mind.

He wanted to mount Caraxes and burn them all.

However, his cousin and daughters had cooled his ardour, recognising that they needed to prepare, gather an army, make a plan of action.

He recognised that it was only female sentiment, a weakness that kept them from making the risky decision that his whole life consisted of.

When his wife finally recovered from her brief mourning, despite his entreaties, she did not listen to him and decided to send her sons as her representatives, wanting to extract the pledge of allegiance from those who had paid her tribute many years ago.

He had thought it nonsensical, however, when Luke returned from Storm's End it turned out that his step son had been a naive idiot.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." He growled, turning away from the table with fury, massaging his face with his palm, not believing he could have done such a thing.

"Daemon." Said Rhaenyra in a voice trembling with despair; she looked at her son, trying to calm herself. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." He muttered, forcing himself into a calm tone of voice.

He turned towards him, looking at him with his heart beating fast.

She had done this for them, so they could attack the Red Keep without fear.

She wanted to make a manly decision, to sacrifice herself, his brave daughter, his little dragon.

"Gods." Said his wife, clutching at her womb, apparently involuntarily recalling the moments when she had carried her under her heart, the maternal tears of pain in her eyes.

"And then?" He finished for her, seeing that she didn't have the strength to get anything else out, Luke swallowed hard, afraid to look at him.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." Said with difficulty, Jace slammed his fist on the table, furious.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He said red with anger and he glanced at him indifferently, sighing heavily.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He asked further, pretending not to have heard his outburst; Jace pressed his lips together, furious. Luke shook his head quickly.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." He muttered, and he sighed heavily, placing both of his hands on the table, leaning over it, and closed his eyes, trying to focus.

He let her see him without any other witnesses and then let him go even though he hated him, even though he could have trapped and humiliated him.

Why?

A memory flashed through his mind, the way his nephew cursed as he fought with himself to finally run after her, her smile full of reassurance as she turned to him knowing he would follow her, his blush of embarrassment and lazy smile as her lips placed a soft, warm kiss on his cheek, her proof of her devotion and affection that he craved so much.

He had never stopped loving her.

This stone-cold, dangerous man had done something for her, surely after she had tried to take her own life.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  HERO OF THE HALF-TRUTH

SUMMARY : “I'm a hoe for Soldier Boy (I'm past hiding it😅) so I thought maybe you write one smut fic where he seemingly picks up reader from a bar, where he is at some promo event or something like that, and they go for a quickie behind a bar and after when she wants to go home, he forces her to sit through rest of the evening with his cum dripping down her legs, and if you're comfortable with it- there could be some degrading, hair pulling, roughness, choking?” — @k-slla 

PAIRING : soldier boy (ben) x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

TAGS/WARNINGS : explicit(18+), tiny canon divergence, depression, trauma, ptsd, degradation, i made soldier boy a sad little puppy, hair pulling, roughness, choking, unprotected p in v, cum kink

WORD COUNT : 3.7k

A/N :  title from an august burns red song. this fills the secret relationship square on my @jacklesversebingo card. I almost forgot to post this lmao 

Soldier Boy, he can’t seem to escape Vought. 

Even breaking every rule Stan Edgar enforced didn’t get him released of the steel strings keeping him from doing whatever the fuck he wanted. 

After being tortured for forty fucking years, it was the least he thought he deserved. He was old as fuck, he could feel the heaviness of it every morning when his eyes opened up to the bright sunlight. He was exhausted and everything looked dead. 

On top of everything, there was a dull ache that remained attached to him like a parasite from the betrayal of his teammates. Even though they’re all dead, even though they didn’t matter to him as he ended their lives—or even before that—his life layers around the hurt and pain left behind by the Crimson Countess. 

There was an emptiness that pressed into his soul like a black hole that no amount of drugs, sex, and alcohol could fill. It got sucked up like it was nothing, unseen, forgotten. It’s how he felt, too. Like nothing, forgotten, thrown away like a useless piece of trash by the very company that struggled to keep him under their thumb now, once again.

He had dreams and hopes before everything that happened. He could have had it all, but all of that evaporated in the same way he had eviscerated his old lover, the Crimson Countess. 

More often than he liked, Ben woke up to nothing, to no one—completely alone, unloved, unimportant. Forgotten. 

Still, here he was, at a ridiculously expensive bar for a promo event. Rich assholes surrounded him, faking smiles and faking laughter, shaking hands and making stupid small talk. They wore expensive suits and held glasses of alcohol that they hardly drank from the whole night. 

Don’t even get him started on the Supes that were on their best behaviour for the night. Pretending to be the good guys. Ben thought they were worse than him. Every single one of them were pathetic, useless, and weak. He didn’t like a single one, but he smiled, too, faking for the night knowing all the annoying cameras that were snapping shots of everyone at any given moment, and that irritating journalists were eavesdropping on every conversation to get the juiciest stories. 

He rolled his eyes as soon as he was able to get away from a journalist who refused to take his ‘no comment’ for an answer. Instead, she was hounded by the Deep who was told which people to talk to in order to continue rewriting his image. 

Ben grunted when he sat on the barstool and the bartender greeted him with a flirtatious, red-lipped grin. He wasn’t in the mood for anything tonight, but he mustered a smile when he ordered a whiskey. But otherwise, he stared into the golden liquid after taking a small sip, ignoring the woman when she brushed her fingers with his. 

Life went by around him; pop music played in the background, people’s voices made a hundred symphonies from laughing and conversation. And the bartender took Ben’s rejection with pride and continued to speak to patrons, reporters, and other Supes. 

His attention drifted away from the glass containing golden liquor when his skin prickled, a shiver running up his spine. He looked to the one side and then the other, there’s only one person who could make him feel that. 

And there she was, sitting on a barstool at the edge of the bar top laughing it up with A-Train, rather awkwardly. It’s like she called to him, somehow, without words. Not a single look had been exchanged just yet. His body felt her before he even laid eyes on her beauty, or touched the softness of her, or caught a whiff of her floral scent. 

Ben stood up to make his way to her. A-Train left instantly when Ben stood behind her with a scowl on his face. He watched her shiver with a tiny smirk, her sentence halfway complete by the time A-Train made it halfway across the room. 

Casually, she spun around in the stool to face him. Her expression was guarded—to everyone else, they were strangers. 

“Hey,” he grunted, deciding to take a seat next to her.

“What are you doing?” She asked quietly, looking away from him to drink the sweet Cosmo she ordered for herself. 

“I should be asking you that,” he shook his head and gave her a sideways glance. He caught the tiny smile on her face for being caught and bit his lip to stop himself from mirroring it. 

She paused and took a slow, short sip of her drink. He resisted the urge to look at her for taking so long to respond. He could feel her hesitation and her quiet sigh made his smile drop slightly.

“I haven’t seen you all week,” she murmured, finally admitting what had driven her to see him in a place filled with people he was hoping to keep from entering her life. They had no privacy now with all the Supes and Stan Edgar around, and he wanted to be angry at her for risking their… relationship, but most importantly her safety. 

He kept her from Vought, from Supes, from anyone who could hurt her or use her to get to him.  

He felt bad. Even though he had good intentions. He couldn’t deny that he was neglecting her. Making her wait for him as Vought dragged him here and there either to play hero or to do shit like this. Promo events. Fucking movies, songs, advertisements. 

It was exhausting to pretend so much. 

He wished he could see her more often. 

If he could, he’d like to return home to her. To lay in bed with her while she runs her fingers through his hair and while they watch another important movie he missed while he was… yeah. 

He just wanted to settle down with her, but Vought was a danger to his dream with her. 

Ben drowned the whiskey in one gulp and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, inhaling softly. He could feel her watching him, and he eyes subtly followed as he stood up and stomped away from the bar to get outside.

He hoped no one would follow him, except her. 

The night was dark, and cool enough that the sky was clear and the stars fought to shine against dark blue-violet skies despite the bright city lights. There was no breeze, the air didn’t bite at his skin and made his cheeks and nose turn red. 

It was perfect.

As perfect as the back of a bar could look during the evening. Cars zoomed by at the very end of the alley and colourful graffiti covered posters of Supes in the wall. Slander and hatred were sprayed against the walls, against Vought, a majority of the Supes. Others wanted Maeve back or defended Starlight, or Homelander. 

People were twisted. Cruel. Pathetic. Hypocritical. As they always were. They never changed, from what he remembers. Not really. They always think they are right, that they know better-

“What?” He heard the heavy door slam against the wall. The door shut slowly behind her when Ben turned around to see colourful pink and blue lights from inside form a shape around her body. 

She crossed her arms over her chest, her face was sadder, but still careful. She knew better than to drop her guard. That fearful glint in her eyes told him that she knew better than to think she was safe. Or that he wasn’t being watched.

That didn’t stop Ben from wanting to hold her. To kiss away her doubts, to smooth the worry lines on her forehead with his fingers, to melt away the tension from her muscles. 

“Sorry,” he whispered instead, his fingers twitching before clenching into a fist. He stepped towards her once the door clicked shut behind her, but she stood where she was as if her feet had grown roots, preventing her from reaching him. “You know I’d like to go everywhere with you in my arms, but-”

“You don’t need to explain it to me again,” she interrupted him softly, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to make herself warm. She looked down at the intricate designs on his suit rather than looking into his big, pleading, green eyes. “Did you miss me… At least?” She blurted out, embarrassment blazing up her face for needing that reassurance, for asking it out loud.

Ben took the final steps to close the distance between them and cupped her cheek. He pressed his lips to her forehead and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. “I did, you know I did,” he mumbled softly against her.

Ben could feel her relax in his arms. She breathed out slowly and he wrapped his arm around her waist to bring her as close as possible. She clung to the buckles on his vest and closed her eyes as the sounds of the city at night faded into nothing around the two of them.

Part of Ben still felt guilty. Probably more now that he was holding her than before.

Here she was, all dolled up and glamorous for him. Because she missed him. Sure, he thought of her way too much the entire week, but she doesn’t know that. He was so overwhelmed with his job and doing what was expected of him, reshoots and interviews, so many things that came with his contract with Vought. 

If he trusted the damned company, he’d include her and her safety when it gets renewed. He’d request a meeting tomorrow, or tonight, to have it changed. So he wouldn’t have to sneak around with her. He’d like to quit to have all that without being under Vought, but he wouldn’t feel safe, and therefore, she wouldn’t be safe either. 

If he could, he’d fake his death and run away with her. But unlike him, a man who simply doesn’t belong in this time, she was the tree at the centre of a garden that everyone loved to gaze at and be around. He couldn’t just uproot her and leave an empty space where she once was in everyone’s lives. She was loved for who she was—genuine, kind, feisty. But Ben was just liked for his looks, for what he was good for—except for her, he loved him as he was, for all that he was.

Every ugly part. Every bad part. And there was a lot of that. He was an asshole and he was insecure, he already knew that. Who was he kidding besides the people who seemingly adored him? Fans?

“Come on,” she whispered, pulling away to kiss him on his bearded jaw, “let’s get back inside so I don’t freeze out here.” Ben’s fingers dug firmly into her hips to keep her in place.

“What makes you think I’m letting you leave so quickly?” His rough voice caused a shiver to run up her spine. She smiled softly against his mouth and pushed up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. “I missed you and you look gorgeous. And now that I have you here… I’m going to make a mess of you with the time I have.”

She inhaled sharply, excitement speeding up her heartbeat. Ben walked her backwards until her back hit the cold wall and she gasped softly once she was pressed against the painted bricks. Her flushed skin made her more sensitive to the cold surrounding her and almost instantly, before his luscious mouth even landed on hers, she felt a tingle of excitement followed by a flood of wetness between her legs.

“Are we really gonna fuck here?” She whispered against his lips. His beard tickled the soft skin of her chin when he hummed a ‘yes’ against her lips, pressing softly at first. “What if someone sees us?” She asked, burying her fingers into his soft, brown hair. 

Ben smirked, his tongue teasing the seam of her lipstick-painted lips. The dull flavour of lipstick hit his taste buds, but his mouth still watered. Her lips parted just slightly, her shaky breath made his lips tingle. “You should know better than to think that would stop me.” 

“Fuck,” she exhaled, his voice alone was enough to make her moan. His fingers clenched her dress, slowly dragging it up her legs, slowly pressing his knee between her legs. To tease, his knee grazed her clit, their mingled breaths made his mind hazy with arousal.

“Now, be a good little slut and give me your panties,” he ordered, releasing her dress to smack her ass with both of his hands. She moaned softly and brought his lips down to hers for a deeper, sensual kiss. 

His fingers tangled in her hair and he tilted her head to slide his tongue into her mouth, licking, sucking, desperately looking for a way to fuse himself with her. Her fingers blindly pulled and tugged at the buckles around his hips and then she whined uselessly when she couldn’t get a single one undone. 

He stopped kissing her to laugh softly, “I told you to focus on you.” 

“Please,” she laughed shyly, pecking his lips. She cupped his cock over his trousers and he gasped, rolling his hips against her hand. 

“We have to make this quick,” he told her, stepping back to work quickly on the buckles. He was faster, pulling out straps expertly, habitually, from years of practice. He didn’t even have to glance away from her flustered face, but unlike him, she clumsily dragged her seamless panties down her legs.  

He hadn’t removed anything, not enough for her to see how hard he was, and he wasn’t giving her a chance to. “I’m keeping these, doll,” he grinned, snatching her underwear and shoving them inside his armour vest, right where his heart thundered against thick metal. 

“Can I keep anything of yours?” She pouted. 

“You can keep my cum?” He offered with a smug smirk, his hands moved from where they were to grasp her hips and spin her around faster than she could process. 

“Okay,” she replied with a smile, hesitantly setting her hands and cheek against the wall. He laughed against her shoulder and hiked up her dress again, his fingers trailing up her sides. 

“You just love being a fucking cum-dump for me, dontcha?” He teased, his voice dripping over her like honey, deep and hot. She moaned softly in response and wiggled her hips impatiently. 

“Fuck.. anything for you, Ben.” He sank his teeth into her neck and guided his cock to her dripping entrance. The tip of his cock circled her entrance and slid through her wet folds slowly. The feeling of her bare heat against his skin made his grip tighten painfully around her hip.  

“Christ, you’re so fucking wet already,” he groaned, the length of his dick teasing her clit with every back and forth, “and I’ve barely even touched you.” He slowly pushed himself into her, shuddering at her delicious warmth wrapped around him. Her walls fluttered around him and she pushed her hips back into him, adjusting to the size of him. “That’s my needy little whore,” he praised degradingly, dragging his calloused hands up the front of her dress to palm her breasts. 

She moaned softly and reached back to thread her fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands until he groaned deeply against her back. The sound shook through her body like an earthquake and sent ripples of pleasure to her clit and pulsing walls. 

“Beg for my cock, needy little slut, show me how much you missed me,” he whispered into her neck with a smirk. He was all smug and sexy, hard and firm, and each touch woke something in her that she would have otherwise been too embarrassed to show anyone else.

“Please, fuck me,” she begged pathetically, pulling harder at his hair if she couldn’t convince him with her pleas. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pressed his fingers into her palm until she relaxed her grip. “God, please, Ben… I need you so bad,” she whispered needily, extending her hands back to grip onto any part of him that she could easily reach when he let her hand fall.

“Come on, let me hear you,” he panted, slowly thrusting into her. He bit his lip, digging his fingertips harder into her hips. She gasped at the pain and squirmed, but a tingle of pleasure began to bloom as he bruised her skin and dragged his cock slowly through her walls. “My pretty little slut,” he growled, smoothing his hands up her sides to bend her forward slightly.

“Please, Ben! I need you!” She whined, allowing him to roughly pull her up again against his chest. He pressed a hard kiss to her jaw, snapping his hips forward once as he groped her chest. Ben pulled the top of her dress down and didn’t hold back with the painful pinch of her nipples between his fingers. He ground his cock into her, driving himself deeper as she moaned and squeezed him. 

Her toes curled inside her heels and her breath hitched, but Ben continued to mouth at her cheek and her shoulder, his breath as uneven as hers. She could feel the grin on his face, the tickle of his beard fueled her arousal and she was dripping around his cock like a desperate whore.

“Please! I-I can’t take it!” She cried, pulling hard on Ben’s hair to make him move faster. He growled against her flushed skin and delivered another rough thrust in response. 

Ben’s teeth grazed her jawline and he grunted softly with each unhurried, deep, hard thrust. Her soft pleas and loud moans echoed against concrete walls, carried into the dark nothingness of the city. Her pussy clenched tighter around him and he was almost out of breath from how amazing she felt.

She clung to him as best as she could and his large hand ended up wrapped around her throat. He was waiting for her to finally fall apart and beg him to make her come. All she could do was ride along the tiny edge of her orgasm, so close to toppling over, but never having that pleasure wash over her.

“Faster, Ben! Let me come... Please… make me come!” She cried out, trying to move her hips to desperately meet his deep, slow pace. He squeezed her throat, pressing his fingers around her throat until her vision turned nearly all the way black.

“Christ, you’re perfect when you beg for my cock,” he chuckled. Be  relaxed his grip and she inhaled sharply, her brain getting fuzzier, like static. A moan slipped from between her lips and Ben finally began thrusting into her faster, sharper, precisely. Short quick gasps made their way past her swollen lips and his name hung in the air when it was stuttered lovingly. 

She found it easier to hold onto the wall, bending herself over once again as her knees became weak and her heels became difficult to stand in. Her mind evaporated from her skull, all she could feel was him, Ben. His suit brushed against her sensitive skin, hard armour pressing into her soft body. His beard scraped against her flushed neck, causing her to shudder and clench around him.

His lips were wet and warm against her skin, his breath adding to the heat to combat the cold that engulfed them. His hands touched and grabbed at what he could reach before tangling in her hair. He gripped her hair in one hand to breathe clearly into her ear, and he pulled at the strands so she stood up straight and couldn’t move away from him again.

Her scalp stung at occasional harsh tugs but his fingers on her clit distracted her enough to find more pleasure than pain. “You always do the stupidest fucking things for my cock,” he grunted in her ear, and despite how irritated she was from being edged she couldn’t help being amused.

Maybe it was all the pleasure that put her in a good mood or maybe it’s that she was finally where she wanted to be, with Ben. The man behind Soldier Boy. 

Her body had a pin-point focus on all the pleasure induced by everything he did to her. Taking her ability to breath with his grip tight around her throat, holding her to him with her hair wrapped around his fist. She felt like an overfilled balloon, overwhelmed with pleasure, love. She missed him more than anything and he was intoxicating.

She felt her orgasm wash over her, a scream of Ben’s name that he was partially able to muffle with his hand squeezing the side of her neck. She gasped, strained and strangled sounds that could barely move past his tight grip and then he let go before he could finish.

She was cold and empty for a few moments, her pussy clenched sound nothing and then a breath was punched out of her chest when he pressed her back into the wall. She was up in his arms, back to moaning and shaking when he slammed back into her.

A few quick thrusts with rough kisses pressed against her lips before warmth bloomed inside her from spurts of his release. Warm cum trickled down between her thighs and Ben laughed huskily against her shoulder when she held him tighter. 

“I missed you,” she whispered breathlessly, slightly disappointed when he pulled his cock out of her and set her back down. She leaned against the wall to catch her breath and recompose herself. She closed her eyes when he dipped down to kiss her cheek.

“Me too,” he murmured, his lips ghosting across her flushed cheeks. She fixed her clothes and tried to keep her focus on him, but she felt exhausted. Weak. “Tell you what,” he began, pulling her back in to keep her warm, “Sit like this through the night and I’ll take you home with me,” he proposed, smirking at the laughter that shook her body. “That’s what you’re good for, keeping my cum safe inside that needy little cunt of yours,” he brushed his lips against hers, collecting sticky strings of their release with his fingers to smear them across her painted lips. He bit his lip and watched her lick her mouth clean. 

“Yes, sir, Soldier Boy,” she smiled, entranced by the lascivious way he sucked on his fingers. 

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[aha-chuu]

Okay here's my controversial Kae/luc opinion (censored so this post doesn't clog up the actual tag).

Like, I do not care what people ship. Sometimes I find ships gross and I will instantly block with a "blurgh ew" but I'm not the type to write out long posts about which pairings are/aren't acceptable, and I don't message people to complain about which fictional characters they wanna see kiss. This stands for Kae/luc also.

But I find it near inconceivable that the argument for Ragbros doesn't centre more on the fact that, at least in my opinion, Diluc and Kaeya have a way more interesting relationship if you take it from a familial perspective.

Ofc yes whoo gay men - but in fandom specifically, there is genuinely the situation where platonic relationships are under-explored, especially outside of parent-child dynamics. Diluc abd Kaeya, meanwhile, foster this instinct in Ragbros folks to write 100k fics about them reconciling, or draw dozens of pages of comics of what their childhood was like.

And I think taking a romantic lens to all that is genuinely pretty diminutive to what's already there. Kaeya's trauma is specifically about his family & abandonment & finding belonging, and his bond with Diluc symbolises where he's at on that journey. Like, if Kaeya can return to being family with someone who is so completely his opposite (from appearance to demeanour to background) then it conveys his place and security in himself. In contrast you have Diluc, where the Point™ is that he lost his whole family in a day. Kaeya is not special because they're secretly in love - he's important because he's Diluc's last chance at a family, if only he were willing to make the first step.

And then you have all the layers of siblings in Mondstadt, which they also fit into. Like Jean & Barbara and Albedo & Klee - you have biological sisters torn apart through family conflict (divorce) and adoptive siblings kept together in the absence of their parents. There's so much there and so much of it is left behind when you take a romantic perspective on Diluc & Kaeya.

[justanapplenothinghere]

MEPHONE4 (PERSONALISED ) CHARACTER ANALYSIS.

I was debating whether to post this after the whole movie was finished however, due to the recent episode I am really scared of all you coming after me because this character is a heavy kin. Please bear that in mind. This work has taken me months to type and analyse. I didn't do everything due to how long this post would end up being. So just the major points were discussed.

Mephone4’s generalised overview:

MePhone4 is one of the main characters in Inanimate Insanity, a popular YouTube object show created by AnimationEpic. As a sentient smartphone, MePhone4 serves as the host of the competition, a role that places him in a position of authority and power over the contestants. His character is defined by a mix of ambition, arrogance, and emotional complexity, which is what makes him one of the more dynamic characters in the series. From a first glance, when watching, some may view him as just a rude and arrogant host with no mental well being of concern for his contestants.

Whilst that might be somewhat true from the start of early episodes into Season 1, he progressively begins to change his character through the course of the other two seasons.As shown for example in Season 3 his attitude begins to change, from a distance the show makes it obvious to us that he DOES CARE about his contestants, just has a hard time expressing such emotions.His character is complex, especially as the series progresses, revealing deeper layers of psychological trauma and emotional conflict.

Mephone4’s background (TW: mentions of abuse/manipulation. As a victim myself of these, this part maybe very detailed.):

MePhone4 was created by the character Steve Cobs (a parody of Steve Jobs), who represents a father figure to him. However, the relationship between MePhone4 and Steve Cobs is strained and toxic. Cobs is demanding and controlling, treating MePhone4 as nothing more than a tool for his own ambitions.The trauma begins with MePhone4's creation, where he is given life, his identity is defined entirely by his purpose to serve others (In other words just Cobs and the Meeple company alone).This lack of agency and the constant pressure to meet Cobs' expectations contributes significantly to MePhone4's psychological issues.

Cobs created MePhone4 with a "highly-advanced emotion emulator," allowing him to experience emotions deeply, unlike other Meeple products. However, instead of focusing on the tasks assigned to him by Cobs, MePhone4 became enamoured with reality TV, which led to disappointment and tension between them. This foundational conflict likely left MePhone4 feeling inadequate and rejected, contributing to his later insecurities and anxieties. His love for competition and showmanship can be seen as a coping mechanism—a way to channel his emotional energy into something he enjoys and excels at, perhaps in an attempt to gain the approval he never received from Cobs.

Most evident in his anxiety and insecurity, which are central to his character. He is often portrayed as anxious about the show's progression and its eventual end, indicating a deep-seated fear of failure or losing purpose.This being evidenced in seeing Mephone3GS.That experience alone caused a sense of realisation he needed to finally leave Meeple.The way Mephone3GS is..that could end up being him in his place. Whilst it is unknown how 3GS gained his scars the best bet to assume it was from / or somehow Cobs did contribute to it himself (Back in typing this before ACT 1 CAME OUT). If that is the case that would explain Mephone’s sudden urgency to leave the company.However, a fascinating factor is Mephone took MEPAD, WITH HIM. That within itself is noble, Mephone could have just left by himself. But he didn’t. That’s the thing. This already shows Mepad’s and Mephone4’s deep level bond to the point Mephone could’ve taken any other Meeple products with him, yet again he specifically took Mepad. He saved him. He saved him from the possible future abuse that could have been inflicted exactly like Cobs has done to Mephone4.Even if Mepad seems somewhat not exactly aware of all the details.

Mephone’s competitive nature may also stem from a need to prove himself, reflecting an internalised pressure to meet expectations that were never fully articulated by Cobs.

Furthermore, MePhone4's "out of sight, out of mind" mentality is a clear indication of his avoidance coping strategy. Instead of confronting his past, especially the painful memories associated with Cobs and Meeple, he chooses to erase them from his system. This physical removal of memories symbolises his desperate desire to escape from the emotional burden they carry. His consideration of re-erasing these memories after they resurface suggests an ongoing struggle with his unresolved trauma. It highlights his inability or unwillingness to process these emotions healthily, leading to a continuous cycle of avoidance and emotional suppression.

Impact on Relationships:

His trauma significantly affects his relationships with others, particularly the contestants and his assistant, Toilet. His lack of regard for the contestants' well-being and his blatant bias during eliminations suggest that his trauma has warped his sense of empathy and fairness. By showing favouritism and making shrewd comments, MePhone4 exerts control over the game in a way that might make him feel more secure or powerful, counteracting his underlying feelings of inadequacy.

His treatment of Toilet, whom he sees as an "unhelpful menace," further illustrates how his trauma manifests in his interactions. MePhone4's disdain for Toilet can be interpreted as a projection of his own insecurities. By belittling Toilet, MePhone4 may be attempting to distance himself from his own perceived flaws and weaknesses. This dynamic reflects how his unresolved issues with Cobs influence his behaviour, leading him to replicate similar patterns of emotional neglect and dismissal.

Mepad:

Relationship between MePhone4 and MePad is characterised by a clear hierarchical structure. MePad is the professional assistant, always respectful and subservient, referring to MePhone4 as "sir" and fulfilling his tasks with precision. This dynamic reflects a classic power imbalance where MePhone4 holds the authority, and MePad exists primarily to serve and support him (Though I do not believe Mephone does so with any malicious intent). MePad's professional demeanour and lack of overt emotional expression reinforce this power dynamic, as MePhone4's emotional volatility is contrasted with MePad's calm and measured responses.

MePhone4's authority over MePad is not just professional but also emotional. MePhone4's insecurities and anxieties often lead him to rely on MePad for solutions and advice, placing MePad in a position of subtle influence despite his ostensibly lower status. This creates a complex dynamic where MePad, though subordinate, becomes a critical emotional anchor for MePhone4, helping to manage his chaotic emotions and the stress of running the show.

Despite claiming that he "can't feel anything," MePad's use of sarcasm and his occasional concern for others indicate a deeper, more nuanced emotional landscape. This suggests that while MePad may not experience emotions in the same way as MePhone4, he has learned to navigate the emotional environment of the show, adopting a dry, ironic tone as a coping mechanism or a way to fit into his role.

MePad's emotional suppression is most evident in his calm and composed demeanour, even in situations where others might express frustration or concern. However, his growing concern for the contestants, particularly Marshmallow, reveals that he is not entirely devoid of emotional response.

The relationship between both of them revolves from one of strict professionalism to something more complex and personal. While MePad starts as a loyal assistant, his actions later in the series suggest a growing sense of independence and moral judgement. His willingness to challenge MePhone4's decisions, as seen when he lies about Marshmallow's whereabouts.

Truth or Flare (ii 15):

MePad's conversation with MePhone4 about quitting the host position of Inanimate Insanity II is a pivotal moment that causes the shift in their relationship. This conversation suggests that MePad is not only concerned with the show's logistics but also with MePhone4's well-being and the overall direction of the series. MePad's ability to confront MePhone4 about such a significant decision reflects a deepening of their relationship, where MePad moves from being a mere assistant to a confidant and advisor, someone who can influence MePhone4's major life decisions..

CONCLUSION:

Whilst many claim and point fingers at Mephone4’s behaviourisms after such a pivotal moment. There is something that must be addressed that I noticed as I am writing this analysis. In this episode, he struggles with handling the pressure of hosting and maintaining control, revealing his insecurities. His tendency to put his own desires above the contestants is a key aspect of his character, as seen when he prioritises entertainment value over fairness. Throughout the episode, MePhone4 becomes increasingly panicked as the game show format starts to unravel, whether that being even something simple as Suitcase trying to reassure Mephone about his past trauma.A pattern I have noticed is that people will try to justify themselves that they hate him because of how he doesn't care about his contestants or his co-hosts. When he clearly does! It is shown subtly throughout the season 2 and 3 he does care, just isn't sure how to show it. The only way he knows is by doing what he is doing. He learnt everything from TV, his views on things will be skewed.He's going to have weird views on what is considered care. Because this man hasn't HAD a single OUNCE of it in his life. He doesn't KNOW what care is, properly.There's a reason why he was suddenly rude and dismissive,there's a reason why he didn't keep answering suitcase,despite suitcase, trying to reassure him that it's okay to talk about it and that she's there for him if nobody else is. Mephone doesn't know how to respond to that. How would he anyway?

If you don't agree with me. Please do NOT come after me. This is just MY personal analysis because he is a heavy kin for me, for a good reason. And It makes me really anxious and REALLY uncomfortable when I see people hunt him down as a character,I am not excusing his actions but I am explaining it.

[maevelin]

The entrapment thing.

So...did I like that scene? No. As a book reader I liked it even LESS.

I won't even get to the point where it was Colin who actively did his best to 'trap' Penelope, by consistently exchanging letters with her, dancing twice in balls, no chaperones over and OVER, demolishing her chances with Debling, 'ruining' her in a carriage LOUDLY with open curtains, having all sexual power over her because sure she is giving consent but she does not exactly know what she is consenting to, creating an engagement before she can have time to actually think about it and without the permission of her family and only presenting said engagement to her mother as a matter of fact and taking her daughter away to their new house without chaperone. I mean...my sweet summer child you are a chaotic TRAP in a human form.

However as a show-viewer I understand it and it kind of makes sense given Colin's background. Given his Bridgerton pride and his "I am a gentleman" attitude but most of all...his past traumatic experience.

The Marina thing has been a great shock for Colin. Colin has always been sensitive and on a certain level innocent and naive compared to his brothers. The shock he had with Marina shaped a new world view for him. It hurt his pride, his feelings and it shaped his character forward.

So we have a male character that has had his own trauma and insecurities and those can manifest at any time.

When he accuses Penelope of trapping him it is like...his worst insecurities coming to surface and he can't control them because he is hurting given how what he feels for Penelope is far greater that what he ever felt for Marina.

However we also need to see how Colin views his worth. At this point he is like...two out of two lied to me. Used me. 'Trapped me'. That alone is a massive hit to his self-esteem and we already know he had issues with that (given how he actively changed his personality to be able to function inside society).

When Colin lashes out to Penelope "then what I good am I to you."...It is basically all his insecurity coming out in waves. Because for Marina he was only good enough to cover for an unplanned pregnancy. She quite made it very clear to him even in S2 where she basically rejected him by telling him that he was not needed at all.

So that was his worth.

For Penelope, he has PTSD flashbacks of entrapment but then she is like...No, I do not need you to fix my problems which is contradictory for him because what good is he to Penelope then? She has power. He has not. She does not need him in THAT way (thus the conundrum of the trap). What other worth could he possibly have? It is unfathomable to him to be loved in such a a degree that his worth would be just that...being himself. Being loved not because he is there to serve a purpose but because he is worthy of love by being himself.

I am not even pointing out how at this point he even gets to the altar and when Penelope falters he is the one smiling encouragingly to her and is the most happy man to every be trapped (like he is one step away from: TRAP ME FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE I BEG OF YOU LOL)

Colin also sees himself as a protector and before he saw all layers of Penelope he viewed her with his own rose-colored glasses that saw her as a virginal damsel in distress needing of his constant protection and care. She was the shy, innocent wallflower he got to save at each ball, and the girl without any protector he had to save from Jack Featherington and after the Marina fiasco that gave him worth. Self worth and he felt as if that was stripped away from. Again.

So even though I hated that accusation I could see where he was coming from and it was growth for him in the end to be...I am in love with a BRAVE woman that has no need of protection and she only needs me to love her and she...loves me. That's it. She loves me. I am loved. No strings attached. I am loved.

Penelope telling to Colin that "I LOVE YOU", that I can live without you, you gave me more confidence and pleasure but I will solve my own problems and what matters is that I am CHOOSING YOU, because I LOVE YOU.

That is something Colin didn't even know he needed. So his was hurt, his behavior reflected that hurt but in the end he grew and got to appreciate having a woman with which they could be equals and he could be himself without pretending to either be a rake or to be the "protector" society has deemed very woman needs as a damsel in distress. It was different sides of the same coin and something both Colin and Penelope needed to work with.

[yuurivoice]

Hello! I'm pretty new to all this and I'm just trying to piece together everything so I'm sorry if this has been asked before! but does the listener (I think thats the correct term?) have set characteristics? like gender, background, etc? Thank you!

Welcome! Different artists have different levels of specifics for their characters, but in my particular case I try to keep them fairly ambiguous!

There are varying degrees of detail I'll add, but they're plot specific. For example, Auron's listener, Rook, works in the legal department. So obviously they've gotten a law degree and have a background in that. Boo, the listener in BitterSweet with Alphonse and Seth, is probably the most ambiguous. They like to bake, and have a knack for seeing the best in people.

I try to avoid things like family and relationships (shoutout to Talk Floral mentioning parents, oof that was an oversight at the time) because that's sensitive and even if you're creating a character to fill that role of listener, some people truly do just immerse themselves and are the listener character. So I avoid things that might have some trauma or icky attachments to it because I don't want folks to step on a landmine.

Gender is always ambiguous unless it's ancient content that was commissioned and released publicly. I know that can sometimes exclude certain language (and even then, saying dirty words about peoples genitals actually adds an additional layer of potential mess ups because we have a large trans community here and sex is not gender etc) so I've mastered the art of being fithy without actually naming bits and bobs.

I also have become even more aware over the years about racial ambiguity as well. Things like hair, blushing, etc may not translate very well and the last thing I want to do is have someone dwell on the idea that whiteness is the default when I'm truly trying to make things accessible to everyone and take them on a ride.

I think I've done a decent job of being able to maintain that ambiguity without sacrificing the imagery or language along the way. Always room for improvement and new ways to accomplish things better, but that's my approach.

The things I try to specify are skills, interests, personality, and background. Some of it isn't always given up front, Charlie's listener Casper is like that. There are a few things you don't know about them yet, but have been teased. It's sort of a spin on the unreliable narrator, but we haven't found out if it's cool or not. There's a chance that people don't like receiving building blocks that late into the plot, so I'm prepared for that. But I think it's cool and the truth is I wouldn't do any of this if I didn't think it was! 😂

Welcome to the community! 💖

[chosok-amo]

Satomi Gojo :

— A Detailed Character Description

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE :

Satomi Gojo is a striking and enigmatic presence, her appearance marked by both beauty and a haunting uniqueness. Like her older brother, Satoru, she possesses the same mesmerizing blue eyes indicative of the powerful Six Eyes technique. However, her left eye is blind, a hollow white that starkly contrasts with the vibrant blue of her right eye. This blind eye is a constant reminder of the trauma and abuse she endured at the hands of the Gojo clan, symbolized further by a prominent scar encircling it.

Adding to her mystique, Satomi's functional right eye occasionally manifests on her left palm, endowed with the same Six Eyes power. This phenomenon, while granting her unique capabilities, has further isolated her within the clan, marking her as both a prodigy and an outcast.

Her long, white hair cascades down her back in soft, silken waves, matching Satoru's distinctive hair color. It often falls over her left eye, partially concealing the scar and the eye itself from casual observers, adding an air of mystery to her appearance.

PERSONALITY :

Satomi is a complex and resilient young woman, her character forged in the crucible of hardship and adversity. Her experiences with abuse and harsh treatment from the Gojo clan have instilled in her a strong and unyielding spirit. She carries herself with a quiet confidence, her demeanor calm and composed, much like her brother's. However, beneath this exterior lies a reservoir of deep-seated emotions—pain, anger, and a fierce determination to prove herself.

She is fiercely loyal to those she cares about, especially her brother Satoru, whom she admires and respects deeply. Despite her hardships, she possesses a compassionate heart, always willing to help those in need and fight against injustice. Her kindness is tempered with a pragmatic understanding of the harsh realities of the world they inhabit.

ABILITIES :

Satomi shares the same powerful abilities as her brother, Satoru, inheriting the Six Eyes and the Limitless Cursed Technique. These abilities make her a formidable sorcerer, capable of extraordinary feats of power and precision. The unique manifestation of her right eye on her left palm grants her a distinct edge and versatility in combat.

Her mastery of the Limitless Cursed Technique allows her to manipulate space at will, creating barriers, teleporting, and distorting reality around her. This makes her a formidable opponent in battle, feared and respected by both allies and enemies.

UNIQUE CONNECTION TO SUKUNA :

Satomi's soul is mysteriously tied to Sukuna's, adding another layer of complexity to her already intricate abilities. When she shares DNA with Sukuna—through a kiss or any form of intimacy—her blue eyes turn into a deep red, and Sukuna's distinctive markings appear on her body, similar to how they manifest on Yuji Itadori.

During these moments, she gains the ability to use Sukuna's techniques and power, the duration and extent of which depend on how long they share the DNA. This connection not only amplifies her strength but also ties her fate closely to that of the King of Curses, adding a perilous dimension to her existence.

BACKGROUND :

Satomi's past is marked by struggle and perseverance. Born into the powerful Gojo clan, she was immediately seen as both a blessing and a curse due to her unique abilities and the blind left eye. The clan's harsh treatment and abuse were intended to mold her into a weapon, but it only served to strengthen her resolve to carve her own path.

Her relationship with Satoru is one of mutual respect and deep familial love. He has always been her protector and mentor, guiding her through the complexities of their abilities and the dangerous world of jujutsu sorcery. Despite the clan's attempts to control and break her, Satomi has emerged as a strong, independent sorcerer, determined to forge her destiny.

ACADEMIC AND ROLE AT JUJUTSU HIGH

Now in her second year at Jujutsu High, Satomi is recognized for her exceptional skills and potential. She is dedicated to her training, constantly honing her abilities under the watchful eye of her brother and other experienced sorcerers. Her presence at the school is both an inspiration and a source of intrigue, as her unique abilities and mysterious past draw the attention and curiosity of her peers.

Summary

Satomi Gojo is a multifaceted character marked by strength and vulnerability. Her evolution from a child subjected to abuse to a confident and skilled sorcerer showcases her resilience and determination. The deep bond she shares with her brother, Satoru, is central to her character, providing her with the love and support she needs to overcome her past and thrive at Jujutsu High.

HOME | CHAPTER 1. THE HIDDEN CURSE

[twst-megane]

So I recently just finished Book 5 and I need y’all to know Vil is like my top fav even before starting book 1 and I just ended up loving him more even now and how so much care and knowledge was written to create such a layered and complex character

I’m not that good in gathering my thoughts into posts like this but I just wanted to share my thoughts cuz I genuinely love the writing in Book 5 as of now :3

BOOK 5 SPOILERS KINDA

1. Envy

The baseline that drove to Vil into overblot. How his desire to play the hero and be on stage longer, his inner envy towards Neige, it accumulated so much from childhood till now and to the point of almost potentially killing Neige but I personally don’t think it was the main reason for his OB

2. Reflection

I’m going off by the official ENG translation but I really love his line before overblotting, “Don’t look at me with those eyes”

He knew what he was going to do if Rook hadn’t stopped him and he immediately regretted it, he became the role he detested for all those years and he hated himself even more for it, he couldn’t forgive himself, which I feel is the real reason he OB compared to a simple jealousy buildup over the years and wanting to be the best. I really like this route more as someone with intrusive thoughts during my worst, it’s a horrible feeling when you realised the horrible things you thought of and the thought of acting it.

3. Loneliness

The higher your power, the lonelier you become.

I feel like this can be said for like every housewarden but I’ve rarely seen ppl talk about this aspect regarding Vil. He couldn’t star in hero roles because he was TOO perfect and beautiful that an average person couldn’t relate, it’s the complete opposite to the rest of the housewardens where they were lonely due to being inferior/intimidating which is an interesting thing to spin the loneliness part onto Vil really well.

He didn’t even appear to have any close friends since childhood, I don’t think he’d consider Jack or Neige to be his close friends but more like at a distance due to how far Vil is in most things. But I don’t think loneliness is the main point of his overall character or trauma but it’s an interesting aspect to consider especially when fitting with the rest of the housewardens.

4. Jamil and Vil Parallels

It’s really funny Jamil shares almost the exact same thoughts as Vil and it brings me back to my second point considering both Jamil and Vil have someone they consider to be superior than them being the most pure and kindhearted person (Kalim and Neige). It’s even more interesting Kalim was the one that escalated the OB and not Jamil from the previous pattern of OB characters escalating the next char into OB. Book 5 expanded a lot on Kalim as a character and he never makes the same mistake twice once he learns which is why it was heartwarming he saw the same eyes Jamil made in Vil’s and tries to stop him.

Bonus :

Rook constantly being the observer in the background and always watching out for Vil really warms my heart, even if its for the good, he always thinks the good for Vil specifically. He saved Neige but only cuz he knows Vil isn’t that sort of person. He cares so much about him he’s so sweet.

I really love love love how they touched on how being an actor can make you be perceived. As a kid you’re very impressionable towards specifically live action actors playing a certain character because your brain would find it hard to find a separation between actor and character and could even paint one as a villain in real life. It has happened before and it’s still a thing now so I really love they added this in even if Vil doesn’t seem to be too bothered by it but it minimally added a little fuel to the fire on why he hated the roles as a villain.

Anyway I really love Vil as a character I can dissect him forever nobody can make me hate him I love him so much 😭😭😭