IMPORTANT: THIS TIME THERE WILL BE NO FIGHTS. YOU WILL SIMPLY VOTE FOR YOUR TOP 6 CHOICES HERE. PLEASE TRY TO USE UP ALL 6 VOTES. THANKS.
THE BRACKET
Hisoka Morow – Hunter x Hunter
VS
Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti – Re:ZERO
VS
Oskar von Reuenthal – Legend of the Galactic Heroes
VS
Yami Marik – Yu-Gi-Oh!
VS
Friend – 20th Century Boys
VS
Dabi – My Hero Academia
VS
Irene Belserion – Fairy Tail
VS
Tomura Shigaraki – My Hero Academia
VS
Byakuran – Hitman Reborn!
VS
Askeladd – Vinland Saga
VS
Uchiha Itachi – Naruto
VS
Hyoudo Kazutaka – Kaiji
THE BRACKET
Hisoka Morow – Hunter x Hunter
Hisoka Morow is a mesmerizing enigma—an assassin-clown who views fighting as an exquisite dance. His razor-sharp instincts are matched by his flamboyant theatrics, blending unpredictability with elegance. Every duel with Gon, Killua, or Chrollo is less a battle and more a performance art piece, in which he seeks the thrill of conflict more than victory itself. Hisoka is driven by one simple, yet potent obsession: pure potential and raw power.
While his outward showmanship masks a savage core, his own code of honor defines his cruelty. Hisoka spares opponents when they’re strong, but punishes weakness with moral intensity. He predicts others' emotions, manipulating his prey into reaching their limits so he can savor the raw energy of their struggle. His unpredictable alliances—helpful one moment, murderous the next—cast him as neither friend nor foe but as a law unto himself.
What makes Hisoka unforgettable is how he crystallizes contradictions: cultured yet savage, mentor and threat, calm and fevered. His presence challenges the protagonists to question their ideals and strength. In Hisoka, we see that a villain can be both a teacher and a predator, a source of inspiration and terror—an immortal blend of elegance, cruelty, and performative grace.
While his outward showmanship masks a savage core, his own code of honor defines his cruelty. Hisoka spares opponents when they’re strong, but punishes weakness with moral intensity. He predicts others' emotions, manipulating his prey into reaching their limits so he can savor the raw energy of their struggle. His unpredictable alliances—helpful one moment, murderous the next—cast him as neither friend nor foe but as a law unto himself.
What makes Hisoka unforgettable is how he crystallizes contradictions: cultured yet savage, mentor and threat, calm and fevered. His presence challenges the protagonists to question their ideals and strength. In Hisoka, we see that a villain can be both a teacher and a predator, a source of inspiration and terror—an immortal blend of elegance, cruelty, and performative grace.
VS
Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti – Re:ZERO
Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti, the Sloth Archbishop, embodies fanatic devotion and warped self-destruction. His psyche has collapsed, inverted by his worship of the Witch’s cult. He constantly shifts from bellowing rage to sullen introspection, wrapping Subaru in cycles of emotional torture. Each resurrection brings new decay—his insanity fueled further by each failure in service to the Witch.
But Petelgeuse isn’t senseless. He respects power, and recognizes Subaru as a sacrificial vessel that refreshed his divine purpose. He manipulates time loops and human despair, weaving suffering into a tapestry of worship. His worship is sincere, unhinged—and terrifyingly beautiful in its fervor. His violent outbursts are not madness alone—they are prayers in blood and pain.
This fanaticism underscores his tragedy. He’s not evil, but broken. His devotions are no longer tethered to reality, yet they retain a chilling logic. In him, themes of pain, devotion, and mental collapse merge. He isn’t broken humanity—he is devotion’s highest, darkest expression.
But Petelgeuse isn’t senseless. He respects power, and recognizes Subaru as a sacrificial vessel that refreshed his divine purpose. He manipulates time loops and human despair, weaving suffering into a tapestry of worship. His worship is sincere, unhinged—and terrifyingly beautiful in its fervor. His violent outbursts are not madness alone—they are prayers in blood and pain.
This fanaticism underscores his tragedy. He’s not evil, but broken. His devotions are no longer tethered to reality, yet they retain a chilling logic. In him, themes of pain, devotion, and mental collapse merge. He isn’t broken humanity—he is devotion’s highest, darkest expression.
VS
Oskar von Reuenthal – Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Oskar von Reuenthal is a galactic paradox—brilliant tactician, charming leader, and tragic conspirator. In him, we find a soldier overflowing with potential, but haunted by ghosts of ambition and loyalty. Loved by troops, adored by commanders, yet tormented by self-doubt and an unrequited love for Reinhard. His heroism becomes his weakness.
Caught between the urge to succeed and the fear of failure, Oskar conspires to secure his legacy. His motivations are in constant friction: devotion to Reinhard, ambition for prestige, and fear of obscurity. His coup fails not from lack of brains, but too many hearts—his betrayal is a poem written under the harshest scrutiny.
Oskar’s arc transcends power—and becomes emotional history. His downfall reveals what drives patriots to betrayal and heroes to tragedy. In his final breath, Oskar remains a reflection of Reinhard’s ambition and weakness—a literary chariot of strengths and flaws, racing toward oblivion.
Caught between the urge to succeed and the fear of failure, Oskar conspires to secure his legacy. His motivations are in constant friction: devotion to Reinhard, ambition for prestige, and fear of obscurity. His coup fails not from lack of brains, but too many hearts—his betrayal is a poem written under the harshest scrutiny.
Oskar’s arc transcends power—and becomes emotional history. His downfall reveals what drives patriots to betrayal and heroes to tragedy. In his final breath, Oskar remains a reflection of Reinhard’s ambition and weakness—a literary chariot of strengths and flaws, racing toward oblivion.
VS
Yami Marik – Yu-Gi-Oh!
Yami Marik is nemesis incarnate: he is the voice that transforms guilt into cruelty through duels. Emerging from Marik Ishtar’s brutal past, he is not born from malice but from suppressed torment. Yami Marik’s duels are emotional crucibles—he forces opponents to relive trauma card by card, memory by agonizing memory.
His cruelty is theater. He revels in detailed performance—each taunt, shadowed grin, and mind-controlled pawn positioned for psychological ruin. For him, winning isn’t enough; the opponent must crumble. His sadism is ritual, his power a script, and his audience’s terror a final act.
His darkness isn’t empty. It is born of pain twisted into expression. Yami Marik stands as a caution: revenge given control becomes artistry—and cruelty. He flicks every card as a reminder that in darkness, performance becomes reality.
His cruelty is theater. He revels in detailed performance—each taunt, shadowed grin, and mind-controlled pawn positioned for psychological ruin. For him, winning isn’t enough; the opponent must crumble. His sadism is ritual, his power a script, and his audience’s terror a final act.
His darkness isn’t empty. It is born of pain twisted into expression. Yami Marik stands as a caution: revenge given control becomes artistry—and cruelty. He flicks every card as a reminder that in darkness, performance becomes reality.
VS
Friend – 20th Century Boys
“Friend” is power sculpted from memory. An everyday man who becomes an overlord harnessing collective nostalgia, preaching unity under a virus of conformity and fear. His orange hood becomes an icon—he doesn’t lead through panic but with comforting recitations of childhood memories twisted into prophecy.
He’s a master manipulator, destabilizing governments and societies through psychological infiltration. He uses the longing for “simpler times” to breed loyalty, twisting that yearning into devotion to his utopia. His followers don’t see a cult—they see hope. His villainy is a slow slip: trust given freely, intent concealed forever.
In “Friend” we see that the most dangerous leaders are those who rewrite history. He weaponizes innocence, turning imagination into fear. His reign shows how nostalgia can become oppression, and how idealism can turn cultish under the right shepherd.
He’s a master manipulator, destabilizing governments and societies through psychological infiltration. He uses the longing for “simpler times” to breed loyalty, twisting that yearning into devotion to his utopia. His followers don’t see a cult—they see hope. His villainy is a slow slip: trust given freely, intent concealed forever.
In “Friend” we see that the most dangerous leaders are those who rewrite history. He weaponizes innocence, turning imagination into fear. His reign shows how nostalgia can become oppression, and how idealism can turn cultish under the right shepherd.
VS
Dabi – My Hero Academia
Dabi is the flame of broken trust—the estranged son of a hero family whose heart is scarred by neglect and abuse. His quirk burns with cold intensity as he lashes out against a world that glorifies heroes yet hides its scars. From the ashes of family lies, he emerges as a crusader against hypocrisy.
Dabi’s speeches are embers: challenging the status quo, exposing hidden scars, and publishing truths heroes hope to bury. His crimes are chaos tinted with criticism—a fiery spotlight on societal hypocrisy. His symbol is fire, but his message is ice-cold truth, revealing that heroism can bruise as much as protect.
He is dangerous not for seeking power, but for exposing cracks in the foundation. Dabi’s fire burns illusions. Through torture and revelation, he becomes an agent of reckoning—a hero-killer born of heroism’s failures.
Dabi’s speeches are embers: challenging the status quo, exposing hidden scars, and publishing truths heroes hope to bury. His crimes are chaos tinted with criticism—a fiery spotlight on societal hypocrisy. His symbol is fire, but his message is ice-cold truth, revealing that heroism can bruise as much as protect.
He is dangerous not for seeking power, but for exposing cracks in the foundation. Dabi’s fire burns illusions. Through torture and revelation, he becomes an agent of reckoning—a hero-killer born of heroism’s failures.
VS
Irene Belserion – Fairy Tail
Irene Belserion is legend reborn—a Dragon Slayer god whose heart cracked under the weight of betrayal. She once protected a lineage of powerful mages. She once loved. And she once was betrayed. This wound gnawed her soul and transformed her into the Scarlet Despair.
Her villainy doesn’t manifest in conquest—it manifests in derision. She confronts Mavis, Fairy Tail, and her daughter as symbols of the past that abandoned her. Each clash echoes grief: spells that scream “remember me” more than they hurt.
Irene is a weapon and an elegy—her magic saturated by sorrow and regret. Her battles speak of love lost, lineage decayed, and existence betrayed. In her violence lies a requiem for what might have been, and a tragedy that refuses to die.
Her villainy doesn’t manifest in conquest—it manifests in derision. She confronts Mavis, Fairy Tail, and her daughter as symbols of the past that abandoned her. Each clash echoes grief: spells that scream “remember me” more than they hurt.
Irene is a weapon and an elegy—her magic saturated by sorrow and regret. Her battles speak of love lost, lineage decayed, and existence betrayed. In her violence lies a requiem for what might have been, and a tragedy that refuses to die.
VS
Tomura Shigaraki – My Hero Academia
Tomura Shigaraki is rage and revolution made flesh. Founded on trauma and nurtured by neglect, his Decay quirk transforms ordered facades into dust. His ambition is not conquest but erasure: he seeks to hollow out a society he blames for his ruin.
Over time, Tomura grows not just in strength, but in ideology. He becomes an icon for despair, gathering followers around his promise of rebirth through ruin. His speeches ignite hopelessness. With each decay, he collapses not just buildings, but societal pillars.
He isn’t a nihilist—he’s a rebuilder. He wants to purge, then rebuild. Tomura’s cruelty is systemic—a siege on hope and institution. His villainy reveals how pain, unaddressed, can fuel a lasting rebellion.
Over time, Tomura grows not just in strength, but in ideology. He becomes an icon for despair, gathering followers around his promise of rebirth through ruin. His speeches ignite hopelessness. With each decay, he collapses not just buildings, but societal pillars.
He isn’t a nihilist—he’s a rebuilder. He wants to purge, then rebuild. Tomura’s cruelty is systemic—a siege on hope and institution. His villainy reveals how pain, unaddressed, can fuel a lasting rebellion.
VS
Byakuran – Hitman Reborn!
Byakuran is evil defined by omniscience. Traveling parallel universes, he learns countless futures, then uses that cosmic hindsight to manipulate ours. He is the ultimate gambler—preparing, hedging, and investing in timelines like chips on a casino table.
His calm intelligence—shaking a hand, sipping tea—contrasts with total control. He doesn’t crush opponents—he out-plays them on existential scales. Their free will becomes background music to his symphony of probabilities.
Byakuran’s terror lies in inevitability: if everything can be known, then every surprise is gone. He stands as a threat not of brute force, but of foregone conclusions. In his shadow, choice feels pointless.
His calm intelligence—shaking a hand, sipping tea—contrasts with total control. He doesn’t crush opponents—he out-plays them on existential scales. Their free will becomes background music to his symphony of probabilities.
Byakuran’s terror lies in inevitability: if everything can be known, then every surprise is gone. He stands as a threat not of brute force, but of foregone conclusions. In his shadow, choice feels pointless.
VS
Askeladd – Vinland Saga
Askeladd is blood, brains, and buried regret. A Viking commander weaving allegiance and betrayal like weapons. Protector and assassin, father and killer, his identity is conflict incarnate. He trains Thorfinn not to lead—but to kill him. He rescues Canute not to follow—but to elevate. In every choice, his legacy mutates.
His greatest act isn’t war—it’s engineering. He orchestrates his death so Canute can rule, shaping a kinder world beyond vengeance. His plot is not destruction, but renaissance. His death is the seed of an ideal he never lives to see.
In Askeladd we see villainy that transcends itself—carrying history’s blood forward, seeking redemption through ruin. His final gambit is not defeat, but transcendence—village wiped, mission done, future born.
His greatest act isn’t war—it’s engineering. He orchestrates his death so Canute can rule, shaping a kinder world beyond vengeance. His plot is not destruction, but renaissance. His death is the seed of an ideal he never lives to see.
In Askeladd we see villainy that transcends itself—carrying history’s blood forward, seeking redemption through ruin. His final gambit is not defeat, but transcendence—village wiped, mission done, future born.
VS
Uchiha Itachi – Naruto
Itachi Uchiha is sacrifice sealed with silenced screams. Responsible for genocide, he wears guilt as his shroud. His eyes, once blazing with pride, dim with sorrow. He walks as a symbol of unforgivable atrocity, yet every act is measured, weighed against a greater peace.
He manipulates Sasuke’s pain to deflect war. He endures betrayal, hatred, and torture to shield Konoha. Even his death is choreographed—to keep brother safe, enemy fooled, war contained. His actions aren’t redemption—they’re absolution offered through annihilation.
Itachi’s story compels us to ask: how heavy must love be to bury genocide? He remains a question every hero asks in future: what is too much to bear for peace?
He manipulates Sasuke’s pain to deflect war. He endures betrayal, hatred, and torture to shield Konoha. Even his death is choreographed—to keep brother safe, enemy fooled, war contained. His actions aren’t redemption—they’re absolution offered through annihilation.
Itachi’s story compels us to ask: how heavy must love be to bury genocide? He remains a question every hero asks in future: what is too much to bear for peace?
VS
Hyoudo Kazutaka – Kaiji
Kazutaka Hyoudo is the architect of broken dreams—a connoisseur of despair who treats human loss as statistical outcome. In his stylish suits and composed grin, every contest becomes a psychological assay: hope distilled—or dehydrated.
Games he hosts are trials of obsession. He offers salvation and lies in equal measure. He understands the gambler’s broken heart and rebuilds it pit by pit—measuring pain in hands, breaths, tears.
Hyoudo isn’t mobster—he’s social engineer. He builds cages out of choice. He seduces despair with sympathy. In the world of Kaiji, he is destiny—the inevitability of chance, human folly distilled. When he wins, society loses.
Games he hosts are trials of obsession. He offers salvation and lies in equal measure. He understands the gambler’s broken heart and rebuilds it pit by pit—measuring pain in hands, breaths, tears.
Hyoudo isn’t mobster—he’s social engineer. He builds cages out of choice. He seduces despair with sympathy. In the world of Kaiji, he is destiny—the inevitability of chance, human folly distilled. When he wins, society loses.
5 years of harassement and I haven’t managed to make you and Lee watching that damn show