war god sukuna has no need for you. you know this as intimately as you know yourself.
he is a monstrous god, well-suited to the mantle he was given from birth; two pairs of muscular arms as thick as the average man’s torso, two cruel faces, a gaping maw carved into the hardness of his stomach. to peer into sukuna’s eyes is to see death and famine and destruction — wars raged long before you and long after you — and live through it all.
he has no need for you. he is perhaps more powerful than the entire pantheon, even the six-eyed-one and the curse-consumer, who swallows the sky every day to bring night. you have little understanding of the sheer magnitude of his power — your pathetic human brain can only fathom so much — but you know that sukuna, undoubtedly, is the very meaning of the word. and yet, he keeps you.
you are not a concubine, though he shirks those he has in favour of your company. you are not a general, nor an admiral, nor a soldier, and yet he seeks your counsel. you are not a mage, and hardly a grand priestess, and yet sukuna finds your door instead of that of his great temple, where hundreds live and breathe to serve him.
you had only reached the status of alter-maiden before your own temple was crushed to dust; little responsibility was given to you beyond tending the hearth, studying, and occasionally helping with chores. but sukuna dresses you in the finery of high priestesses — gauzy crimson dresses that bare your stomach and chest, fine golden jewellery and garnets that appear almost black in low light — and instructs you to dance in the way your superiors did. dances of worship, dances that he does not need, because he is already all-powerful.
the dances fit you like armour fits the weedy frame of a young boy — your legs don’t quite stretch far enough, your arms can’t move with a fluidity only gained by experience — but sukuna watches you like you are a sorceress, enchanting him with each step. he hushes uruame as they try to speak, insisting on remaining undisturbed during your worship — and when you finish, panting and glistening with sweat, your god only hums in satisfaction, grin all sharp-toothed and feral.
it must be blasphemous, you think, to perform such revered dances so clumsily—
but perhaps even more blasphemous, though, is the lingering touches your god fixes upon your waist; the hunger in his eyes as you dance; the scrape of his pointed nails against your jawline; the tent in his robes at the sound of your laboured breaths after dancing.
you fear the god of war means to have you in more ways than one — and worse still, you can’t find it within you to care.
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ok people we gotta stop making mori the source of all evil with soukoku. Yes mori is evil about how he treated yosano and a lot of the pm members but that's a whole other can of worms.
Anyways with skk MORI WOULD NOT TRY TO GET IN THEIR WAY IN FACT HE WOULD ENCOURAGE THEIR ASSES TO GET TOGETHER THIS PANEL EXISTS FOR A REASON.
MORI SHIPS THEM SO BAD ITS ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS.
Fics need to stop making this dude try to prevent skk from dating. I want a crack fic where mori is just like "Hey how was ur day do u like to kiss guys?" To both dazai and chuuya. I want mori shenanigans where he's actively trying so hard to set them up and Elise is sitting in a corner with kouyou and they're hard core judging him.
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i rlly rlly rlly love benson obsessing over randy. at first hes just another kid that works there. but over time he notices him, how pathetic he is, how weak he is. how he looks right into your eyes when he talks to you, pupils dilated with fear like a scared animal. his fidgeting, his shallow breathing. benson watches him like a hawk. he convinces himself hes just intrigued by him. he starts to think about him outside of work. wonders what hes doing. what music he likes. what does his skin feel like? he almost smacks himself. "you fucking disgust me" he'd mutter to himself in the mirror. he washes his hands, scrubs them till theyre sore. it gets worse. he feels randy under his skin. he hears his voice in his head. he cant even look at the color blue without wanting to punch something. he fucking hates him.
he wants to split him open. he wants to kiss him. he wants to tell him to man the fuck up. he wants to hold him. he wants to fix him. he wants to see him cry. he wants to ruin him. he wants to save him.
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I am way too invested in Stucky and probably overreacting about the whole poll thing but I find it so gross that OFMD fans (just the ones who have been overly antagonistic, I'm sure most of you guys are just happy and supporting a ship that you like) have been mocking Stucky fans for shipping something that was never made canon because I think that's genuinely what makes Stucky such a beautiful ship. In the face of homophobia, the homophobia of Steve and Bucky's universe and of ours, thousands of people have found love and beauty and have created entire works of literature and enduring quotes and defined an era of media consumption in the face of the queerbaiting epidemic of the 2010's. I PROMISE YOU, you would not have your queer pirate show without the overwhelming love that fandom spaces showed for queer relationships in the 2010's, and particularly without the love that fans have for Steve and Bucky.
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I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...
Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.
I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.
I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.
Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D
I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬
Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D
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