frostbounddevotion

[frostbounddevotion]

Guys do you think she’s excited

[frostbounddevotion]

Hey I just wanted to post this. I understand that everything is a shit show right now with everyone, so please share if you can't donate. Sharing would mean the world to me.

https://gofund.me/dbdb36c3

[frostbounddevotion]

My kind of Jinu 😍

[frostbounddevotion]

Ask my muse anything you want on anon!

[frostbounddevotion]

Unfortunately they can't share the title of Cutest Anime Kid

[frostbounddevotion]

[frostbounddevotion]

uraume cosplay

[frostbounddevotion]

live laugh love prioritising your mental health and never starting the culling games arc!

[frostbounddevotion]

Migraine attack. Dizzy. Everything hurts. Will reply when I recover.

[frostbounddevotion]

-Morning Light.

Do not re-post.

[frostbounddevotion]

don't gotta worry abt same face syndrome if u only draw one guy ever

[frostbounddevotion]

BONUS JJK SHIP

@schnozzlebozzle @ask-sora-aguilar @averagetmntfan

Sukume (Ryomen Sukuna x Uraume)

The ultimate power couple

The cuties i actually love them and their height difference

[frostbounddevotion]

He shouldnt be allowed to look this fine......... *sighs*

[frostbounddevotion]

Full form sukuna in my artstyle!!

Do not trace repost or steal

[frostbounddevotion]

The one and only @bvrningfrost (aka MY Ume Bestie)

[Original picture]

[frostbounddevotion]

His lips touched their skin, and Uraume’s heart stumbled in its rhythm.

It was so brief—just a brush of heat against their wrist—but it struck like a bolt through still waters. The sensation spread outward like the shock of a cold tide, unexpected and uninvited, yet impossible to ignore. A kiss. From him. And not in hunger or possession—but in permission. A gesture of release.

Freedom.

Sukuna’s voice had carried no threat, no command veiled in affection. Only a rare indulgence, whispered low, almost reverent: permission to put themselves first. To want. To move and speak freely.

It overwhelmed them.

For so long, centuries perhaps, Uraume had been constructed in service. Every breath measured to soothe him. Every word carefully portioned for his appetite. Every movement designed for his ease. Their desires were secondary—no, nonexistent. They had been trained out of want.

And now?

Now, with that simple kiss and unspoken benediction, the chains that had bound them so tightly around their purpose were falling away.

Their breath caught, their body locked. Their mind, usually sharp and ordered, blinked into nothingness. Blank after blank. Eyes widened a fraction—an expression most would never see cross their face. Freedom was a door thrown open. But what did one do with open doors when all they’d ever known was the locked room?

And then his gaze swept down their figure.

Their muscles stiffened, breath hitching not in anticipation, but in something colder. That gaze—they knew it. They had endured it countless times in the shadows of cities and shrines, where Sukuna’s presence did not shield them. A look of possession. Of objectification. A reminder that their body, even in silence, drew attention they neither sought nor welcomed.

Their stomach turned thick and low. Their skin prickled, not with pleasure, but tension. The kind bred from repetition.

Still, they bowed their head slightly, concealing the flicker of unease, voice catching at the start.

“A-As you wish, my Lord.”

They withdrew their hand carefully, not with haste, but with the gentleness of reverence. Their fingers brushed the place where his lips had touched, as if to preserve the warmth—not erase it. They weren’t sure what the gesture meant. Not yet. Only that it left something behind.

Uncertain what true freedom meant, Uraume reached back—to something familiar. To something safe, in its own twisted way.

“May I visit the countryside?” they asked, voice leveled now. “I wish to observe the working class. The honest ones, the poor ones. Families. I find them… fascinating.”

And they did.

Not for their strength. Not for their dignity. But for the frailty behind their pride. For the desperation tucked beneath their rituals of normalcy. They remembered the way calloused hands trembled when faced with real power. The taste of fear in old farmhouse kitchens. The breathless hush of mothers who dared not cry out.

There had been a time when Sukuna and Uraume indulged in such places together. Times when mercy was not a consideration, and indulgence wore its truest face: depravity.

If Uraume were to take their first step into wanting, they would do so where they knew they could still feed.

Where Sukuna might watch and remember, too.

the king and his cook, the cannibal and his starling.

ethereal eyes glow, uraume's cool breath sweetens, embers flare beneath fresh air. and they wonder whether he cares.

caring is for doves, and the falcons which feed on them. caring is for children who eat their words and claim they know how to speak.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows... ...and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart.

they do not need words. sukuna does not need words. they orbit each other, since the day uraume found gravity within his galaxy, since the moment sukuna found his star.

this, dear, is language. this, dear, is how mouths indulge.

sukuna hums, low and baritone in his chest, as their thumb dances the smoother planes of his face. and as they move closer, the pulse in their fingers a hint on tanned skin. gesture for gesture, concern for concern. his eyes lower down their expression, their figure—like skipping rocks on water. indulge, indulge, indulge.

if uraume were to voice to him their considerations of their own worth, he would ask them, who decides worthiness? and then he would answer, those who are strong.

but they do not. and so he tells them by lifting one hand, hot-blooded fingers drifting around uraume's like yoshino petals. guiding them further down his face. saying, without words but in motion, explore, explore, explore.

“is that right?”

red eyes lift. whisper for whisper. gaze, for gaze. sukuna has never denied himself a thing. those who are strong decide worthiness; this is creed and philosophy.

uraume has claimed their seat at the table, and he but wishes to feed and fill them.

“then tell me how you would indulge yourself. i sanction it: move, and speak, freely.”

he watched their eyes touch his lips, and he brings those lips now to the inner bones of their wrist. a brush, no more.

“serve me now by serving yourself.”

[frostbounddevotion]

Gentle Care

Taking care of them...

"Hey, it's okay. Show me?"

"What did they do to you?"

"Don't cry - I've got you."

"That's okay - get it all out."

"Deep breath, I have you."

"Sh, sh, I'm going to patch you up."

"I've got a bandage for you."

"This is going to sting, but we have to clean this."

"Oh - okay - we're hugging about this, okay."

"It'll all feel better in the morning."

"I can't believe someone would do this to you..."

"I'm going to protect you."

"Get some rest. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're safe now."

"I'm just going to wipe your face."

"When's the last time you cried like this?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, I promise."

"One day, you'll be okay. For now? It's okay to hurt."

"You want a hug?"

"I've got a blanket for you."

"Nice and cosy..."

"It's okay if you fall asleep."

"Just get some rest. You need it."

"Hey, I made you food."

"I know it's easy to forget to eat when you feel like this."

"You don't need to feel guilty."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Do you want a hot chocolate?"

"There's nothing better than a toasted marshmallow."

"Just hold onto me. There we go."