#Rain over Kyoto

[hi-technique]

[mikobeautifulheart]

JJK Men when you forget your umbrella

INCLUDING: Yuji and Megumi

TW: Idk for this one. Rain?

NOT EDITED OKAY, IM SORRY.

▪︎Yuji▪︎

It was raining heavily and you and Yuji were standing outside the entrance of Jujutsu high undercover. It was before class ended that rain began to pour down. You looked down into your bag and noticed that the compartment with your umbrella in it was empty. Crap. The rain only got harder and time went on leading you to now. You looked over at Yuji who was already looking at you.

"Forgot your umbrella too?" Yuji asked

"Yeah" you sighed in annoyance. you just waited to get back to your dorm and sleep before tomorrows base ball battle against Kyoto Jujutsu high.

"So you gonna run it?" Yuji asked looking out. The rain was so hard you almost missed what he said.

"No way, I'll just have to wait it out" you said trying to make out the path infront of you that being flooded by water.

"20 MINUTES?" Yuji suddenly yelled making you turn your head to him.

"ITS GOING TO KEEP RAINING FOR 20 MINUTES" He said looking away from his phone.

Honestly this was the last thing you needed. Your hair was slightly damp from the wind blowing the rain your way and you looked down only to see water pouring at your feet, getting your shoes wet. Yuji followed you gaze looking down at your shoes.

"Lets go inside" He said grabbing you bag out of your hand and holding the door open for you.

You walked in and Yuji followed behind into your class room. you sat at your desk and laid hunched over. You hear the rain hit the roof so hard you thought the roof would break. Then the sound of a desk being moved filled the room. Yuji sat down right next to you and put the back of his had on your forehead.

"Are you okay?" he asked

You paused before responding.

"Y...yeah I'm just tiered and a little cold you said."

Yuji leaned down to your face and gave you a quick peak on the lips. You immediately didn't feel cold anymore.

"Your right your lips are freezing" he said as he took off jacket and put it over your shoulders guiding your head onto his shoulder.

"You should probably get some rest" He said watching your eyes flutter closed.

Little did you know that in the front pocket of Yuji's bag was his umbrella he seemingly 'forgot'

~Megumi~

You guys got off at the train stop and headed to the exit only to realise that it was pouring down rain and it was not slowing down now. Megumi reached in his bag and got out his umbrella. Of course he was prepared for everything. But when you reached into your bag you realised your umbrella was missing. You kept rummaging through your bag thinking you might have misplaced it and it got lost in there, but really you knew it want in there. Megumi opened his umbrella and looked down at you going through your bag.

"Did you forget your umbrella?" He asked

"I could have sworn that it was in here!" you said still looking.

"Is it in there?"

"No" you sighed taking your arm out of your bag in annoyance.

"You go ahead I'll wait the rain out."

He paused, the rain was so loud you almost missed what he said next.

"We can...share the umbrella" He said looking the other way, avoiding your gaze.

"Really? I mean if you don't mind. But I can always wait it can't rain for to long"

The rain fell harder in that moment.

"No it's okay, we're going to the same place anyway"

You stood under the umbrella with him shoulder to shoulder.

Only after 15 minutes you guys made it to Jujutsu high. Your socks were totally soaked, but otherwise you were completely dry.

When you got to the entrance Megumi ran inside without even saying anything. You were confused as you slowly entered the building only to hear Yuji yell from the class room.

"MEGUMI?!? YOUR SOAKING, DID YOU FORGET YOUR UMBRELLA OR SOMETHING?"

"SHUT UP" He yelled back.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: UGH IM SORRY MEGUMIS ONE WASNT AS ROMANTIC- WELL IT WAS BUT THERE WASN'T THAT MUCH PDA.

Anyway I'm making a part 2 rn with Gojo and Nanami, so hang around if you want that. Thanks for reading.

EDIT: Psstttt I finished part 2 and its right hereee

[houndsclaw]

moon bend the knife

pairing: ieiri shoko/reader word count: 3181 rating: explicit warnings/tags: smut, established relationship, canon-typical discussions of violence, masturbation, strap-ons, tender sex, some emotional hurt/comfort. notes: for the end of 2023, have some tender shoko! title from perfume genius, some superficial references to the heart sutra and other buddhist recollections. this is diametrically opposed to my other shoko fic (or is it?). mostly unedited, completely not beta-read. There’s no rush here, you remind yourself. You don’t have infinite moments with Shoko— you may not even have tomorrow, the luxury of long life not the path you walk— but you have this time right now. There is more love here than curse. read on ao3

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So don’t,” Shoko says. She’s standing between your knees, toweling your hair dry for you.

It had been a bad mission. The way that leads to short life makes you yourself short-lived. With curses, survival was dumb luck as much as innate skill. Sometimes, you were standing a foot in the wrong direction. Today, it had been the right direction. You’d gotten out with nothing worse than bruised ribs. Your partner had not been as fortunate.

In the aftermath, Nanami had driven you to Shoko’s apartment. He had helped you get into the passenger seat of his car and fastened the seat belt around you when you couldn’t coordinate the movement. All you can remember from the drive is the rain sheeting down the windows, washing the smears of blood left from your hands. Nanami hadn’t even complained about the puddles of bloody water you had left in his car, or smeared across his nice shirt from your impromptu embrace.

You clear your throat, shake the thoughts out of your head. “Tell me about your day.”

“Corpses, mostly, but none of them were yours.”

Shoko whips the towel off of your head, leaving you blinking with your hair in your face. When you push the damp hair back from your eyes, she’s already turned away from you to inspect her face in the mirror.

You both know the state of the world you live in. The list of Tokyo veterans dwindles with every month that passed. It is human to hold pain close to the chest, and only more expected for jujutsu sorcerers. You see it in the way the lines drew tighter and tighter on Nanami’s face, the false cadence of Satoru’s laughter, Utahime’s dry eyes at every funeral, the deepening purple bags under Shoko’s eyes. Today, it hadn’t been you.

Grief is the most constant companion a sorcerer has. By nature, it makes you all a tricky breed. There’s a reason it’s easier for sorcerers to be solitary, distant, isolated— or, at least, to hold anything else closer than you held others. Satoru feels the emptiness of Suguru so keenly that he holds it even closer than Shoko. You had worked with your partner for a little over a year before today; there will be someone else waiting for you with the next curse. Maybe a student, maybe an auxiliary manager, maybe someone from Kyoto. Nature and jujutsu society abhor a vacuum. The empty space will be filled; it will never be full again. It never is full to start with.

As the sutra went: form is emptiness, emptiness is form.

Let me know when you get inside, Nanami had told you. Shoko had met you at the door, still in her wrinkled scrubs from the morgue. You were certain that if she hadn’t, his car would still be idling below until he received an all-clear. As soon as you had gotten into the apartment, Shoko had stripped you down in the kitchen and examined your wounds herself right then and there. Then, she had whisked you into the shower with her. All of the mud and blood had been scrubbed from your skin, leaving only the bruises as physical evidence of what you had survived.

You put your arms around Shoko, making eye contact with her in the mirror. “None of them were me,” you agree, voice soft.

After a second, Shoko turns in your arms, presses her face into your neck. Her sigh is warm against your jaw. You both smell like the expensive soap she buys, cypress and balsam. It feels good to stand like this, belly to belly, the sensation of her skin against yours a comfort.

It is a careful practice to think to yourself: I must be parted from whatever I hold dear.

Shoko maps her hands down the sides of your ribs, over your soft belly. It would feel clinical if you didn’t know her better. You know she’s tracing up the line of a laceration that would have killed you if she hadn’t gotten to you in time. The scar is old and silver now, thanks to her reverse cursed technique, but every now and then you wake up convinced your guts are spilling into your lap.

You wince as her touch moves towards the edges of your bruised ribs. A frown touches Shoko’s lips. Her eyes are fixed on your injured body, but she looks as though she’s far away. You could pass your hand in front of her eyes and you’re not sure she would blink. You think to yourself again: pain held close and dear.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc? How long do I have to live?”

To your relief, Shoko’s lips twist up into a wry smile even as she rolls her eyes at you. “You’re not very funny.”

You allow yourself a giggle, mostly of relief and dizzy exhaustion. “I’m a little funny.”

She pokes her finger into your bruised ribs. You squeak and jerk back. Point taken. “Jerk,” you tell her.

Her smile softens. This time, when she passes her hand over your ribs, heat fizzes out from her fingers. The edges of the bruising spread and fade: purple-black, green, yellow. She leaves them in that middle stage, an ugly green-yellow like a cat’s eye, but the worst of the tenderness is gone when you shift and twist to see.

This gift is greater than it appears. Shoko’s cursed energy is precious. She’s always on call, always ready for her phone to go off with the next horror story that will need to be triaged. It’s why the higher-ups keep her on campus and not in the field; she’s too valuable to lose in this war. When all else fails, she must remain. All sorcerers relive their grief, but Shoko has to dissect it. It’s easy for the jujutsu world to denounce Ieiri Shoko as cold, yet another special grade as distant as the stars, but you know that she is just another mortal woman.

You catch her wrist, press a kiss into her palm. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

Shoko touches your cheek. “Let me take care of you,” she says.

Some nights, you think you would say no. She works too hard, your Shoko, and it’s your honor to take care of her in a way that she doesn’t let anyone else. Tonight, there’s something in the way she’s looking at you, expressed in the way that she washed your hair and healed your ribs. This desire is something that would be cruel to deny her.

“Okay,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. “I’m at your mercy, then.”

That earns you another eye-roll and a nip to your bottom lip. As lucky as you are to be on Shoko’s leash when she deigns fit, that’s clearly not the mood she’s in tonight. That’s more than okay with you. You crave her touch, her warmth, more than anything. You’ve sat up with that desire many a night, let it scald you. Some of those nights, you think the only thing that burns bright within you is that want, that attachment.

Shoko’s apartment is replete with shadows at this hour. Only the kitchen light is on, banishing the darkness to the margins of the apartment. When you take a breath, you can smell the faint spice of incense. Shoko often burns tiny cones of incense or the fancy candles that Satoru furnishes her with. The scent marks her home like her cigarettes. The thought flashes to you with the smoke, tears stinging your eyes: there would hardly be enough left of your mission partner to cremate.

Shoko squeezes your hand. You blink, remember to let the air leave your lungs. Let it pass through you like the blood spiraling down the shower drain. You let her lead you to her bed.

It’s most likely a doctor’s consideration for her lover’s wounds, but at first, she lets you straddle her lap and bury her in kisses. You kiss down her neck, relishing the way she leans her head to give you more room, the soft sigh when you let your teeth close around her throat. Run your fingers through her damp hair, cup the weight of her breast in your palm, hold the gentle curve of her waist. You let yourself rest your tired head in the crook of her shoulder, breathing in the soapy, salty musk of her skin.

The rain pours down the windows of the apartment. There’s no rush here, you remind yourself. You don’t have infinite moments with Shoko— you may not even have tomorrow, the luxury of long life not the path you walk— but you have this time right now. There is more love here than curse. It’s hard to think of the woman cradled in your arms as anything but yours. You pause, let the desire wash over you, let it strip you bare.

Shoko steers you down against the pillows with a touch to your arm. She lets you situate yourself again her pillows— luxuriously plump, the silky sheets cool against your hot skin— before crawling back over you. She straddles one of your thighs, careful to keep her weight off of you, which is as frustrating as it is practically appreciated. You wouldn’t mind a little soreness if it meant being even closer to her.

Shoko kisses you until you’re breathless and pliant under her. Her tongue tastes like mint toothpaste. All of the tobacco has been scrubbed out of her teeth, her nails, her hair. Clean, stripped of armor and title and distance, starlight made heavy for you to hold.

You skim your hands across her shoulders, tucking her loose hair over her shoulder as her mouth moves to your chest. She sucks a kiss into the sensitive underside of your breast, her other hand coming up to cup the other. Shoko has always had a possessive streak when it comes to you. She grazes her teeth over your nipple and you whimper without meaning to, arching up to encourage her touch. Your ribs protest the movement with a sharp pulse, and then you’re whimpering for a different reason.

Shoko is quick to check: “Did that hurt?”

“I’m fine. But you might need to take care of me a little faster.” You affect a little yawn that turns jaw-cracking without your permission, your ribs twinging again with the great inhale.

Shoko shoots you a blazing look; you have the grace to be a little sheepish in return. There will be another time where she’ll let you push all of her buttons, admit to liking your teasing. Maybe tomorrow, when the violence of the day has worn its teeth on time. Shoko knows what you need; this is for her as much as it is intended for you. She needs to feel you here, hale and whole under her palms. There are many corpses in this time of wars, but you are not one of them.

When you give her shoulder a gentle tug, she comes up easily. You cup her neck with one hand, lean in to kiss the mole under her eye. “I’ll be good,” you promise, sweet and earnest, and press the same promise against her lips. “Take care of me, Shoko.”

Shoko lets you lick her mouth open. Sighs when you move your thigh just so against her bare cunt. You can feel that she’s already wet, which sends arousal zipping up your own spine. “You’re incorrigible,” she murmurs, but she makes it sound so fond you can’t help but smile.

Your breath catches as she takes your fingers into her mouth. Shoko sucks on your fingers as she rubs herself against your thigh, her thigh flexing against you in turn. Pleasure thrums through you like a well-struck chord, the pluck of a shamisen string. If this is what she wants, you are well-enough cared for. Then, to your chagrin, she moves back to sit on her heels. The hot weight of her gaze keeps you pinned in place, sprawled out in her bed. Her naked appreciation almost makes you want to hide, but you know better. You wonder what she sees hidden in the curves and lines of your body.

Shoko swings her legs off the side of the bed with a leisurely stretch, and then leans over you again. “Keep yourself occupied for me,” she says, emphasizing her words with her thumb tracing over your bottom lip. She drags your wet fingers over your cunt to underscore the command. Your touch is pale fire compared to hers, but you still moan as you roll your fingers over your clit. That intense urge for closeness, for touch, has your breath quickening, your cunt pulsing heavy with your own touch and the promise of hers.

You bite your lip as you watch her slip her long legs into the simple leather harness and tighten the straps against her hips. Shoko has always been beautiful, even tucked into her stark, shapeless white coat. She’s backlit from the warm light spilling in from the kitchen, she looks even more like a dream, built like a bough of a willow. Her dark hair hangs over her shoulder, cheek limned in light.

When she looks at you, you spread your legs a little wider for her. You hope she can see you wet and wanting for her. As she approaches, her shadow spills over you. She passes her hand over her cock, wet and shiny with lube. You know part of her choice slips inside of her, so she can feel what you feel mirrored.

“C’mon, Sho,” you urge her. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

You lay on your good side, arms open for her. When she settles next to you, you stretch your leg over her hip, wiggling to get the hard line of her dildo to rub just right against your clit. Shoko grunts at the pressure it puts on her, lips parting. You breathe in. Cypress and balsam soap, the salt and musk of her skin. She pushes inside you and you exhale against her jaw. There’s nothing but her.

You lay like that for a second, together, just breathing. The impatience has fallen out of you, just like that. Nothing but the two of you; nothing but form; nothing but that nothing. Her breath on your mouth tastes like a koan. You have never felt more alive than you do with her hands on you. Shoko shifts her hips, adjusts the strap; you knot your fingers in her hair, wait for her to move. She knows what you like, what you need. It’s a slow, tender rhythm, an undulation of her hips that builds pleasure in you like a wave.

You make no effort to muffle your moans. You clench against her cock inside of you, bumping your hips closer. Shoko kisses your jaw, runs her tongue along the shell of your ear, ducks down to nuzzle your shoulder. Then, she presses her forehead against yours. You’re pressed together, fitting all the way along your bodies. If you as much as twitch, the other feels it.

“Tell me how it feels,” Shoko says. It’s an order, if only a soft one.

“So good,” you tell her, arching into her and not minding the ache. “You’re so good, Shoko, treating me so well.”

Shoko kisses you again, teeth clinking together, unexpectedly desperate. You whimper into her mouth, clit grinding against the leather knots of her harness. It’s building up fast at this angle, cresting over you.

“Shoko, ‘m so close—“

“I know,” Shoko whispers, grinding her hips at that dizzying angle. Pressed this close, you can feel her heart pounding in her chest as if it were your own. “I know, let go for me. I want to see my pretty girl come for me.”

You had lied before: you do want to talk about it. You want to tell Shoko everything. You want to hold her closer than you’ve ever held anyone, keep her all to yourself. You hold the desire deep inside yourself, roll it smooth like a pebble in a river as you shake with her pleasure. Is it too much to tell her you fantasize of running away from it all with her? If you offered your hand, would Shoko take it?

You know it’s a moot point, at most another pipe dream that sorcerers hold in the privacy of their souls next to all of the grief. Attachment is the root of all suffering. I must be parted from whatever I hold dear. In the car, Nanami had told you he thought of retiring to a beach on Kuantan where there would be no such thing as curses. Neither of you can abandon your duties like that. What matters is that you’re here with her. The moment will pass like the rain, but you will share it nonetheless.

You must have been a saint in your last life to end up here with her.

Shoko fucks you through your orgasm, her breath stuttering as she presses her forehead against yours. You keep your thigh stretched up over her hip, whispering incoherent encouragement into her mouth, take what you need, I’m here. When Shoko comes, it is with a sound that is nearly a sob.

You stay curled together, slick with sweat, listening to each other’s breathing slow. Finally, she rolls away from you, tugs the harness and strap down her legs and kicks it to the end of the bed with an uncharacteristic lack of care. She tosses a delicate wrist over her flushed face, her other hand wrapped around yours.

The rain is still pouring outside, stained-blue pattering down the window. It will rain through the night, through the next day. There is a pile of bloodied clothes in the kitchen that will need to be dealt with come morning. At some point, your phone or hers will ring and bring you back to your duties and promises. Emptiness and form. Shoko’s apartment may not be Malaysia, is certainly not free from the ravages of the cursed world, but you can stay here a while.

Golden light pours over Shoko’s shoulders as she leans in to press one last kiss to your lips. Then, she’s twisting away from you to open her bedside drawer. There’s the click of a lighter, and an exhale. Smoke swirls up in the light; sweet, haylike tobacco eclipses the cypress soap. With her shoulders set against the darkness from the window, Shoko looks very far away. You reach over, tracing your fingers down her spine. She shivers. Then, she falls back with a gentle thump against the mattress, cigarette still caught between her lips.

When her eyes meet yours, you think that to her, there is never any distance between you. You don’t need any words. 

“If you set the bed on fire, I’m breaking up with you,” you threaten.

Shoko chuckles, voice raspy. “Yeah, yeah,” she says. “I love you too.”

[gl1tch3doracle]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ twilight showers ˖ ࣪⊹

First oneshot, so ofc I had to do the queen of cool herself, Quanxi. I'm absolutely weak for this woman.

➸ Quanxi + !Fem!Reader

➸ Word count; 2,093 words,

➸ Y'know, probably set sometime during part 2, but I wouldn't know when. No major spoilers aside from the fiends.

➸ No content warnings either. Just some hurt/comfort ♡ (Although I would say it's been a little while since I've written something, so it might be a little wonky 'cause I'm rusty). Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

Night befallen - Twinkling lights across a rather solemn concrete jungle, all blurred by the flurry of raindrops pinstriping against a benumbing glass pane. From up in your apartment, it all seemed like a well-put-together maze of harrowing misfortunes that seemed to follow almost every citizen of Kyoto. Somewhere down there was a family ruined by a devil attack, a partner mourning their lost loved one, children crying because their friends had been ripped away without explanation. All events that could happen to you at a moment's notice - The coin could flip and land heads up, and it would be lights out before you might even notice.

That was a thought that occasionally tickled your brain. Every few weeks or so, most likely foretold by a day's event. It could've been a devil attack that jostled your mind - or even just a shitty day at work. It always came at night specifically, though, which was absolutely perfect when you were trying to get to sleep.

It was sad to think about, the way people's lives were cut clean on such short notice, which is why you tried not to do that all too often. That wasn't as easy as it sounded, especially when, unlike the others who had to live with their chosen reality, you were pretty safe and well-off all things considered. It manifested in a welt of guilt swelling in your chest, and that was the reason when night fell like it had fallen all those times before, you still slept on and off, swaddled up in your bed.

No nightmares plagued you and no misfortune befell you, because you were wholly safe - Especially when you were wrapped in the arms of your girlfriend. Someone would have to be an idiot to attempt on your life; Devil, human or fiend, it didn't matter, because Quanxi would cut them down with scary proficiency like she'd done so many times in the past.

That was most nights, anyway. The warm feeling of safety and Quanxi would not lull you to sleep tonight. The bed was empty and cold, blankets strewn over the edge, pillows tossed and tucked under your head and over your arm. It wasn't that rare for Quanxi to be stuck deep in the alleyways working, but it didn't make you feel any less lonely.

Outside, the storm grew heavier. The windows rattled.

Every time the rain stuck your window, every time the wind pulled against the structure of your building, every time a piercing howl or screech cut through the veil, you felt yourself flinch into the comfort of your plush duvet. You were safe, that you knew, but it was an instinct in every human to fear devils or something. At least, it felt instinctual for you, because being scared of creatures and beings that craved your pain sort've felt natural.

Although, among the melody of the stormed city, there was another sound hidden amongst all the others. Beyond the furious tapping of the rain, the whirling of the wind, the honks of traffic and whatever far-away noises plagued the world surrounding you, there was one, tiny, sharp sound that ricocheted in your ears. It would've been so easy to miss it, and yet you couldn't help but zero in on it like a homing beacon.

Like the sound of a bird tapping curiously at the glass, similar to a singular dense raindrop pattering against the frame or the friendly waving of your houseplants' leaves drawn to the beaming sun.

Or, even perhaps, if you stretched the idea far enough, like an arrowhead plinking against rain-pattered glass.

You chuckled. That thought was a bit overly specific, although not for lack of reason. However, if it was the arrowhead, it was better to go check, just to make sure.

The floor was startlingly cold underneath your bare feet, enough to make you wince, but not enough to send you back under your blankets. The window wasn't far, after all, a few paces to your left. You could already see her figure staunchly squatted on the windowsill, her back to the wind with her hair whipped back and forth.

Quanxi was without her swords, clean of blood and grime but drenched from head to toe from the storm.

You yawned and cracked open the window, letting her slink silently, almost peacefully, from the rugged weather outside into the comfort of your twilight bedroom.

"Quanxi?" Her name was soft on your lips. She stilled in front of you, mouth drawn into a thin line, twitched downward at the corners. She was an enigma, one you were slowly unwrapping and figuring out for yourself. A mystery that only let her guard for one person, and that one person was you.

She didn't say anything, only shrugged off her suit jacket and wrapped her cold, muscled arms around you, tugging you into an embrace that smelled strongly of men's cologne - Cedar and cashmere, underlined by a tinge of bloody iron and sharp rain. The way she twitched softly, fingers digging inwards as she tugged you closer, twining them into your hair as she sweetly kissed your forehead. Protective, anxious, almost lost seaming.

Also, as you may've mentioned, she was thoroughly drenched - Carrying a sheen of rain, heavy enough to dampen your clothes and chill your skin as well. Usually, you would've laughed at the action, maybe called her silly as she rolled her eyes playfully, cracking a rare smile. But tonight was not the night, tinged with sadness and longing. It was a sense in her eye, and in the way she held you so close and dear to her heart, literally and metaphorically.

You sighed and kissed whatever part of her you could reach - Cold skin dappled with raindrops. Quanxi sighed softly, melting ever so slightly as the heat from your love and the room thawed her bones.

"Go have a shower," You murmured into her. Quanxi grunted.

"Don't wanna." You rolled your eyes and gently shoved her in the direction of your bathroom. She battered her eyelashes at you, pursed her lips and set you with a look that would've made you shake if it weren't for the emphasised pout she gave you.

"You're freezing. Go have a shower," You pointed accusingly at her, which prompted nothing more than a quirked eyebrow. A part of you was more than glad that Quanxi was home again, but another, more tired part of you didn't want to deal with her stubbornness at one in the morning.

"You are not getting in that bed freezing cold and wet," You didn't wait for her to respond, verbally or otherwise, and instead returned to the lukewarm embrace of your bed and blankets. The almost silent pattering of Quanxi's footsteps out of the bedroom, echoing into the bathroom. The spattering of shower water followed soon after, steam billowing out from the door and spilling into the hallway.

You sniffled and rolled over, burrowing your face into the nearest pillow. Time seemed like an infallible concept as you listened to the sounds of rapid water showering across tiles. The repetitive lapping sound filled your senses, a subtle humidity filled the apartment, scents of soap and petrichor pleasantly swarmed your nose. The minutes slipped through your fingers, metaphorically, sleep weighing on your eyelids. You blinked, and it seemed in a moment Quanxi had re-entered the room with a slicked-back mess of wet silver atop her head and a towel in hand.

She blinked once and held out the towel in a silent question. You yawned and slid out of bed a second time that night, following your girlfriend into the bathroom.

Resting in front of the mirror, Quanxi closed her eye in contentment as you worked the water from her hair, patting it down to get the most of the water out. That itself was no easy feat, so, being as tired as you were, you whipped out the hairdryer. It was a loud, ebbing sound in your ears, but you couldn't give a crap as you watched the stress slowly seep from the muscles in Quanxi's shoulders.

"How often do you brush your hair?" You murmured against the back of her head. The brush in your hand was snagged against another knot. If Quanxi heard your question, she didn't make any motion that she would answer it - Instead, her fingers traced over the lace of her favourite choker. Even as you worked the kinks out of her hair, smoothing her silver locks till they were smooth and dry enough that your pillows wouldn't be wet in the morning, you couldn't help but notice that her attention would never drift from the fabric.

Hair dried, Quanxi insisted she would be fine to just slip into some pyjamas. You pointedly didn't point out the gooseflesh skittering up and down her arms and instead kissed her behind her ear before leaving for the bedroom for what you hoped was the last time.

The bed was cold. You sniffled and sighed, pulling the blankets over your head as you scavenged together the various pillows that had been tossed all over the bed. You only resurfaced once the click of the bedroom door opening resounded throughout the otherwise pin-drop silence, Quanxi silently walked in afterwards.

Her shoulders were bare, the only part that way highlighted by the sliver of moonlight escaping through the tumultuous clouds. She cast a look in your direction, eyepatch now removed. You didn't even flinch at the empty hole in her face, but rather, your eyes were drawn to the lace collar still firmly twined around her neck.

Quanxi seemed off. Her fingers brushed slowly over the lace as she pulled a shirt over her head.

"Do you miss them?" You'd spent enough time just watching her, listening to the sounds Quanxi made and studying the way she worked. You could tell when she was disheartened, sad even, in the most minuscule meaning of the word. Even if it did feel like a stab in the dark, the moment she stilled for more than a second settled your thoughts.

"Sometimes. Yes," Quanxi finished getting dressed, suddenly seeming a lot smaller without her loose ponytail. Silver cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, tangled and shining as she shimmied into bed next to you.

You knew about her fiends. They all were important to Quanxi, held near and dear in her heart, especially in death. You'd never met them, but you had no qualms with Quanxi keeping a few pictures on hand (and in your apartment). Perhaps in another life, you would've lived side by side with them, all a part of Quanxi's little self-made family. Your big bed certainly would've been useful in that case, six warm bodies all snuggled up under the blankets on a night like tonight.

As selfish and greedy as it sounded, there was a little part of you that was happy to have Quanxi all to yourself. Still, you just gave her a small smile, tired, and pulled her into your embrace.

Quanxi didn't cry. You didn't think anything in this world could make Quanxi cry, but she was shaking. Small, violent tremors that you wouldn't have felt if it weren't for the fact she was pressed against the pulse point in your neck. Your arms circled her neck, loosely looped around her warmth as your wrists rested gently against the cloth of her choker - A sensation that made your skin itchy, but, with your girlfriend planted firmly in your embrace, you were not willing to move a muscle. It was a rarity that Quanxi let you hold her so openly, so closely, her face pressed against you in such a manner your legs had to tangle together underneath the sheets.

Her breaths rolled over you in uneven puffs, heat against your skin in a way that pleasantly tingled and instilled a feeling of drowsiness. It was peaceful, in a sense of the word, and you were more than willing to let sleep take you. Nestled up against her, head held carefully in your arms with her warmth a constant ebb and flow against the biting chill outside, you couldn't help but answer the lulling call of sleep.

Quanxi pursed her lips, feeling your breath even out below her ear. It felt comfortable, soothing even. Although she knew she wouldn't sleep tonight (she hardly ever did anymore), spending the time listening to the rain outside, the pulsing of your heart all while she tried to bury the memories of her past deep within her subconscious.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: XXXIV

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: Some days after Sukuna’s defeat, you wake up.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: i can’t believe this is truly the final chapter

You weren’t sure how long you dreamt for. The scenes you were shown were random, an assortment of the things you had lived through, but in no particular order. Many of them were about Yuta, or were memories featuring him — whether this was because he was generally there for the most important events of your life, or because he himself was the most important thing in your life, you did not know. Some of them were things you had not even experienced: a woman being eaten alive but spitting in defiance at her tormentor anyways, another woman embracing a tall, dark-haired man in the rain as she cried, and a girl with golden hair drinking someone’s poisoned blood-like-pomegranates, signing a contract she was not even aware had been written.

When you opened your eyes, you were lying in a hospital bed, the last remnants of your hazy sleep fading in the face of the bright gold sunlight streaming through the glass-paned window. The room was sterile, as most hospital rooms tended to be, but on your bedside table was a pot of blue irises, the colorful petals brightening up the otherwise-white space.

“Am I dead?” you said, sitting up, your voice rough from disuse. You were not alone in the room; Maki was dozing off in a chair beside you, and this made you frown. If you were dead, that meant she was, too, and you hadn’t wanted that to happen. You had sacrificed yourself so that she and the others didn’t have to. Had it been for nothing?

Maki woke up with a start, scrambling to her feet as soon as she heard your voice. She stared at you for a second, and then her eyes filled with tears and she was wrapping her arms around you so snugly that you actually coughed from the pressure. Something wet and warm dripped onto your shoulder, and you realized she was sobbing as she hugged you, pressing her face against the crook of your neck.

“No,” she choked out. “You’re alive. Stupid, stupid Y/N…you’re alive.”

“I thought for sure I’d died, though,” you said with a small frown. “Did I really grow so weak that I couldn’t even manage that? Well, I guess it’s not important. Where are the others? What about Sukuna?”

“Everyone else is as fine as you could expect,” she said. “And Sukuna is gone.”

Sukuna was gone. They had figured out some way to do it, some way to defeat him. The creature who took and took and took — you were finally free from his all-consuming grasp. You were all finally free. At least, those of you who were left to enjoy it were.

“That’s good,” you said. “Does that mean Megumi—?”

“Yes,” Maki said, looking at the ground. You swallowed but nodded.

“How is Gojo?” you said, daring to hope for just that one second. She gave you a pitying look, and you knew even before she said it what her answer would be. You closed your eyes, waiting to hear it from her mouth.

“You’re the prodigy with Composition,” Maki said. “If you couldn’t bring him back, that means no one else could, either. He’s really gone.”

You pushed aside your grief, knowing that the time to mourn would come, but not yet. There was still something you had to know, someone you had yet to ask about.

“Where is Yuta?” you said. It was odd that you were in a hospital room and he wasn’t by your side, but you refused to think about what that could mean.

“He’s…” Maki trailed off, lost for words.

“No,” you said, cold washing over you. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was saying, and she immediately shook her head.

“It’s not like that! He’s alive.” she said. “He’s just in one of the hospital rooms.”

“You should’ve said so,” you said. “As long as he’s alive, it’s fine.”

“Yes, he is, but he’s been resting recently,” Maki said.

“Resting? Why?” you said. As the special grade sorcerer with the most cursed energy and a Reverse Cursed Technique of his own, such prolonged rest was generally beneath Yuta, who recovered almost instantly. Although you were glad he was taking a moment to relax, it was out of character enough for him that it confused you.

“Y/N,” Maki said with a sigh. “Yuta is — he’s not — he’s not exactly okay, just because he’s not dead.”

You threw your blankets aside without waiting for further explanation, sliding to the floor without even bothering to put your shoes on, your hospital gown fluttering around your bare legs as you sprinted out of the room. Maki shouted in protest behind you, but you ignored her, running through the hallways of the hospital ward with only one thing on your mind.

“Yuta!” you shouted as you ran. “Yuta!”

At the end of the hall, a door slammed open, and Yuta, also clad in a hospital gown, sans even a pair of slippers, stumbled out. He was unsteady on his feet, walking with an uncharacteristic gingerness, but when he saw you, his face lit up and he began running towards you.

“Y/N!” he said, opening his arms as you collided into one another, his frail limbs fitting around you as securely as if they had been made to be there. You held onto him, your breaths falling into sync, your heartbeats in tandem as he kissed your neck, your cheeks, your temples and forehead over and over like he was in disbelief that you were real.

“Are you okay?” you said. “Maki was insinuating that something had happened, but you seem fine. What’s wrong?”

“I’m the one who should be asking that,” he said, stroking your hair. “You’re the one who died.”

“Died?” you said. “But Maki said I’m alive.”

“You are,” he said. “Because I brought you back.”

It was the same story again. You thought Yuta had been the Heian Era Y/N and you had been her husband, the nameless one whose only claim to fame was bringing her back to life after she died against Sukuna, but it wasn’t the case. You were Y/N. He was the original L/N, the one who loved someone so much he could not bear to live without them.

“How?” you said. “You don’t have Composition, so how did you manage that?”

“The words ‘I love you,’” he said. “By refusing to say them out of a fear of cursing you, I made a Binding Vow with myself. All of my cursed energy got concentrated into that phrase, and so when I finally did say it, I was able to funnel every bit into healing you.”

“What does that mean, though?” you said. “If you used all of your cursed energy to heal me, then—?”

“I have none left,” he completed. “I’m a normal person now, Y/N. Your life for my sorcery; to be sure, it was an easy decision to make.”

Yuta was a normal person. Special grade sorcerer, Yuta Okkotsu, was a normal person. You cradled his face in your hands, brushing your lips against his, delicately, softy, afraid you’d break him now that he didn’t have his typical strength. But he grabbed the back of your head, crushing you to him, kissing you like he wanted to meld with you into one person, like he never wanted to be separated from you again.

“You’re in danger now,” you said, pulling away and panting, placing your hands on his shoulders for support. “Without any cursed energy, you’re in danger now, right?”

“From who?” he said, lips parted as he regained his breath. “Kenjaku and Sukuna are gone. And since there are no more special grade sorcerers left in the world, the few remaining curses are extraordinarily weak. We’ll get rid of them soon, and then there won’t be anything endangering us.”

A world without curses. It sounded like a fairytale, a utopian possibility that couldn’t occur for many years, but to hear Yuta tell it, it was something that was happening now. Something which you would get to see in your lifetime.

A world where you could all go to university together and have normal jobs that didn’t require you to risk your lives. A world where your only farewells would be borne of distance and not death. That kind of a world…was it really something that you might one day know?

You weren’t sure. For the moment, though, you decided not to worry about that. The future would always be uncertain, after all. But you had Yuta. No matter what, in some way, shape, or form, you had him, as he had you.

“Don’t let go,” he said when you tried to step away. There were things to be done, after all, others to meet, a funeral to plan — funerals to plan, actually, considering just how many people were gone now.

But, then again, all of that could be done later, too.

“Okay,” you said. “Not yet. Not today.”

“Not anymore. Not ever,” he insisted. And because you both had spent so much time apart, because you had died for him and he had died for you, because neither of you had to say goodbye anymore, you only smiled slightly.

“Yes,” you agreed. “I won’t let go of you, Yuta. Not anymore. Not ever.”

So, as the sun shone down the hallway and the sweet smell of irises filled the air, the two of you clung to each other tighter.

closing thoughts: i would like to thank everyone who was supported me with this story. whether by leaving a comment (or comments), sending me an ask (or asks), liking, reblogging, or even just silently reading, each of you are the reason i was able to finish this fic. there were definitely some ups and downs in terms of how consistently i posted, but i managed to get the whole thing done before the official two year anniversary HAHA so i count it as a win.

i never thought that this story was going to get so long, but it is my first to be over 200k words, which i think is crazy. in that many words and the time that i’ve been writing the characters of pomegranate ink, i’ve grown attached to them, and seeing everyone be as invested in the story as i am always makes me smile a little bit. i will miss writing the crew’s (mis)adventures, inside jokes, and various relationships, but i am glad i got to do so for as long as i did.

thank you all again for reading and watching y/n, yuta, and co. come into their own with me 🫶🏻 it has been a pleasure and i hope to see you again on one of my other stories ❤️

[strrkie-art]

HCs with Kyoto kids No curses collage AU

warning! grammar issues

All Kyoto kids call Utahime Mom, everyone pronounces the address with a different intonation (last one was Noritoshi, he said it suddenly and quietly, which did not escape Yori's sensitive hearing)

In addition to movie nights, they all gather together in Nishimiya's room to play poker or mafia 'well, Mom, don't start, we're not going to be long at all, and this time we're not even planning to have a drunk!'

Kasumi finds it difficult to wake up in the morning when there is a lot of sun, so she chose a room with a window on the shadow side. Noritoshi's room is across the door of an empty room from her. I like to think that their dorm rooms are located exactly where the boundary between the male and female wings. Todo chose a corner back room with a sunny side because of the large windows on two walls. In the middle of the corridor next door are the rooms of Arata and Kokichi, both on the shadow side. Momo and Mai rooms, located at the end of the corridor opposite each other in light and shadow contrast, were also chosen because of the spacious windows and the importance of sunlight for Momo's plants All kyoto kids and besto friendo Yuuji chipped in for a full-scale cardboard stand with Takada for Todo's birthday. At first, Todo was very upset when the exclusive product on the site ran out in an instant and he so absurdly missed the opportunity to place an order (Todo growled, walked gloomier than a cloud while others silently watched the suffering of his soul for several days until his b-day)

Miwa and Mai have friends tattoos (this sun behind the cloud on Miwa's forearm, Mai has a cloud with rain in the same place). Nishimiya doesn't like idea of having a tattoo on her body, so Mai draws emoji with rainbow on her forearm with colored gel pens for photos every time)

Todo knows how to weave braids. Once he braided Kasumi's long hair into fishnet braids (popular in 2014). What if he had a free head for hairdressing experiments in the person of Yuki Tsukumo, I think it's funny enough

Arata loves hedgehogs, he throws videos with them to Nobara, even more often than some memes understandable only to him (Kugisaki with a satisfied smile pokes his finger at the phone screen in front of Megumi's face and says look, it's you when Yuuji is not around! But here when Yuuji is in your field of vision! Yuuji : Did someone call me?

Noritoshi likes to look at street cats. Miwa finds it endearing since she once had the opportunity to see Noritoshi sitting alone on a terrace in the backyard of their student dormitory, stroking an incredibly gentle cat on his lap. he looked relaxed. Miwa smiled. She had never seen him so serene and had simply left without daring to interrupt this comfortable moment for him

Mai failed in her attempt to upset Todo with the fact that Тakada-chan is a lesbian and nothing amorous shines for him with her, but he already knew this, and he is not in love with Тakada-chan, he just likes to watch her play out her positive image, inspiring her fans to believe in ourselves, whatever they were doing. Todo and Mai are the type of friends who often quarrel over absurd things, and not because of something serious

Todo wanted to bring Arata out on Takada's show (let him just read his favorite manga in peace), but this does not happen often, unless his best friend Yuuji is super busy, Mai spends time with girls, Kokichi and Noritoshi are reclusive together again and will never take part in it Girls get out somewhere together, it's always shopping malls, pavilions with vintage things, walking in parks on rented bicycles, not missing the opportunity to look into cozy coffee shops to warm up/cool off for seasonal drinks and desserts, trips to the ocean to wet feets in the water

Momo and Mai think Kokichi has Snow White's vibe, he has the same slightly curly dark hair and animals are also magnetized to him without fear, if this could be called a superpower Kokichi and Kasumi listen to true crime podcasts in the evenings in the shared kitchen and discuss them while cooking something for dinner on neighboring pans or discuss new ideas for a photo session with fake katana while Kokichi dyes Kasumi's hair and after a while there are still blue spots embedded in his skin on his hands

Kokichi calls Kasumi a Goddess with katana who does not believe in herself, but he believes in her, her caring hands and her bold ideas (Noritoshi shares this faith with him)

Next to Noritoshi, Kasumi no longer feels tension and fear as it was before. He turned out to be comfortable person and pleasantly cool as a fresh pillow before going to bed, so Kasumi, always warm as a wool sweater, often falls asleep on him, she likes the contrast of their body temperatures (for the first time she apologized for how awkward it was for her to doze off on his shoulder and slide her head into his lap in a dream, but Noritoshi did not express dissatisfaction and did not try to wake her up, being not against taking a nap himself). And she also likes to see his relaxed face in glasses when she wakes up

Noritoshi and Kokichi spend a lot of time together: they study, go on long walks, watch movies (they like to meticulously comment on scenes while watching and discuss what exactly the movie was shitty or vice versa good) and gamefilms (Noritoshi liked part 1 Last of us and Death stranding), they talk about everything and also silence does not cause discomfort (they are glad that Kasumi not only with them spending her free time)

When Noritoshi talks to Kasumi and sees her gaze fixed on nowhere, he calls her to once again indicate his presence and not scare her, asks if everything is okay, and, regardless of the answer, shortens the distance between them, lightly touches the top of her head with his long calloused fingers and soothingly strokes her head (he is not particularly strong in encouraging phrases), just in case, then clarifying whether the pressure of the palm was too strong. For the first time, she froze in the pose of a toy soldier and looked at him in surprise, and then smiled her little smile and lightly squeezed his wide palm so that he could understand with what force he did it, accompanying it with a brief comment 'Thank you and, uh, sorry, uh..It was like that, Kamo-kun'. Momo and Mai, watching this, were taken aback. Really? Noritoshi willingly tactilely interacts with another person? He did accidentally hit his head, or did the alien take control of his body? they pretended not to notice anything, although he was sure that no one saw this little gesture

At the evening gatherings of the girls, Momo does not get tired of theatrically sighing "how sad it is when the chicks grow up and fly away from the nest," and after that she firmly says if something happens, she is always ready to kick the ass of both guys if they somehow offend her dear friend Miwa Noritoshi makes little confessions to Kokichi about how thinks him fascinating. To which he hears once again a request to stop embarrassing him. They are both good at studying. And when Noritoshi asks about his personal methods of prolonging productivity, Kokichi insists that he join the introduction of rest into his daily routine, and not stay up until night without breaks, then he will no longer have to complain about headaches and poor sleep in the morning. Therefore, Kokichi and Kasumi go to Noritoshi to distract him from excessive study. Usually they look like impudent cats with honest eyes, carefully sit down on both sides next to him. 'Someone's smart head really needs a rest' gently whisper in ear. 'Hey, you're already asleep' low whisper in other ear. There is a lot of fatigue in Noritoshi's eyes, and, as always, he will grumble a little, sigh, slamming notebooks with notes and already pulling these two closer to him Kokichi appreciates Kasumi's willingness to keep up a conversation on a topic she doesn't really understand, or to start a monologue about how her day went, or on some topic of interest to her when he himself has exhausted his social battery and wants to be silent, calmly resting his chin on her shoulder or on the top of her head. He listens and listens to what she says, and then, after recharging, discusses with her everything he has heard before, and vice versa. No one is offended if one is silent and the other says

Noritoshi shared with Kasumi and Kokichi his indignation over his father's family, his bold dream to check out of the family registry an problems with emotions (I just adore my hc where Nori was adopted by Chosoyuki, his last name hasn't changed, but Noritoshi doesn't care, it's important that he has already stopped all interaction with his father) In the morning, Noritoshi and Kasumi practice yoga. Kasumi once tried to stand on her head, Noritoshi held her legs, repeating that he was nearby, holding her and she would not fall. And also Kas does not know how to relax in savasana, she fidgets, turns, puffs, sighs, does not know where to put her hands comfortably, it seems a little more and steam will come out of her ears like from a kettle 'You're very lively for a corpse pose. Don't suffer' Noritoshi spreads his arms invitingly to the sides. He knows that in a strong embrace Kasumi will be able to completely relax

Kokichi is trying to quit smoking because he smoke too much due to stress and the frequent purchase of cigarettes hits his wallet, and Nori doesn't like tobacco-flavored kisses. Kas also smoke, but only in two cases: sometimes she can smoke for company or when she is so nervous Kasumi understands aurally english and can speak it fluently. Thanks to foreign visitors in Kusakabe's bar, where she works, the conversational skill are not lost. When she talks to Mai and Momo, they can switch from japanese to english in kombini, which attracts the attention of other people. Also Kas helps Noritoshi with practice speaking, and when she sees that he is tired (Nori can't always recognize own fatigue), she habitually moves closer and murmured various english songs in his ear. The quality time spent with her calms his restless head before the next TOEIC exam. Todo underestimated how physically strong Kokichi turned out to be with his tall and skinny body

Todo: Why did they leave and didn't call us? May: Because they have a date, you idiot! Momo: Mai, we're actually going to go too Arata* holds out her phone to others to see* Guys look: [Miwa posted a photo in stories for friends] 'Sakura is so impossibly beautiful! I took my recluses out for a walk'

Mai and Momo have cottagecore picnic dates and go to the farm to pick strawberries and some pumpkins

Miwa has a good sense of style, in fact she doesn't have many clothes, all the outfits that she assemble look original and fresh every time, as if she really has a big wardrobe, she willingly helps Kokichi and Noritoshi assemble outfits from their existing clothes (they all have similar tastes). Arata turns to her for advice when she doesn't want to bother her big sister for nothing

Nishimiya plays the cello and she and Noritoshi play joint improvisations of cello and piano when there is time and mood

Mai sings well, just likes to be harmful at every opportunity when she is asked to sing something Noritoshi sneezes softly like a kitten (I've only heard twice in my life that people could sneeze like that, hehe it's an awesome sound)

Arata got Todo into dating sim games on behalf of a fem character Todo: Toxic bastard and you pretended to be a decent guy too! Arata: Are you already going through episode X? Nishimiya and Mai *look questioningly at Todo and look at Arata* Todo*nods and turns to the character of the game*: How many such bastards around you! But nothing, he won't do anything to us! Arata*shrugs*: I didn't know that dating sim would affect him so much

Kokichi and Arata play video games and read manga. Kokichi also helps to solve problems with his infinitely clogged internal phone memory

Kokichi in this house is the main one for fixing problems with electricity and gadgets Mai and Kokichi spend money on arcade machines and collectible capsule toys, which they then carefully store 'I see how you want to get this Mechamaru, you're just incinerating with your eyes, though your eyes aren't lasers huh. Here, take it for yourself, I already have one'

Noritoshi and Mai share an interest in surfing for them it is always a competition and a fun pastime

Mai carefully preserves about the storage of gifts (she has this in common with Kokichi), although she always grumbles "who needs these trinkets, except for the growing layers of dust on the shelves?!" Between the pages of the book lives herbarium of small bouquets that Nishimiya gave her, in a beautifully decorated cardboard box with sweets from Kas, she keeps their joint pictures from photo booths in shopping malls, shells found on the shore during their journey to the ocean, and in a cloth bag a pendant with a silver revolver from her sister (she unwraps and she holds the pendant in her hand for a long time when she feels, how terribly she misses Maki. 'Fool' she mutters without malice, squeezing the jewelry in fist harder. Momo in such episodes considers it best to leave her alone so that Mai does not hide and openly experienced this moment of sadness)

Nishimiya is a fan of american vintage clothes and hippie style jewelry, I can clearly imagine how as a child she dreamed of opening her own cute jewelry store

[ermesskiss]

itafushi pov playlists

i've been editing my itafushi playlists non-stop this past week and decided to sort the songs on a google doc instead of doing it in my head to make it easier on myself easier and more sense and omg, they're significantly fucking better compared to last time I posted about them on here

trust me!!! on my beloved cat they're good!!!

I figured that I should post the list of the arcs and its songs of their pov's. figured that this would be interesting to some people and I wanted to give them an idea of my thought process

below the cut is the song list with arcs + playlist link

here is the link to the google doc if it's more convenient and easier for others

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! 🫶🏽

_____________________________________________

_____________________________________________

Itadori's pov

First Introduction

Use Somebody: Kings of Leon

What You Know: Two-Door Cinema Club

Cursed Womb 

Amazing: Rex Orange County

Somedays: The Strokes

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out: The Smiths

Dying in front of Fushiguro

Fade Into You: Mazzy Star

Heart To Heart: Mac DeMarco

Moonlight On The River: Mac DeMarco

My Love Mine All Mine: Mitski

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life): Green Day

Secretly Training With Gojo

When You’re Gone: The Cranberries

See You Again: Tyler, The Creator

I Think I Like When It Rains: WILLIS

I Will: The Beatles

Kyoto Goodwill Event: Surprising Team

For The First Time: Mac DeMarco

Tongue Tied: Group Love

Every Way: Rex Orange County

Kyoto Goodwill Event: Battles

You’re My Bestfriend: Queen

Drive ME crazy: Lil Yachty

Buddy Holly: Weezer

Death Painting Arc

Remedy: Adele

You Get You Give: New Radicals

Time After Time: Cyndi Lauper

You’ve Got a Friend In Me: Randy Newman

Here With Me: D4vd

Shibuya Accident

Always Forever: Cults

Mrs. Magic: Strawberry Guy

I Can’t Handle Change: Roar

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want: Dream Academy 

Lonely Day: System Of The Down

Itadori's Extermination

Pluto Projector: Rex Orange County

Broken: Lifehouse

Everything: Lifehouse

Iris: Goo Goo Dolls

Chasing Cars: Snow Patrol

Running: No Doubt

What Would I Do?: Strawberry Guy

Angel: Brent Faiyaz

Culling Game

It’s Not The Same Anymore: Red Orange County

Liar: Paramore

Like You Do: Joji

When The Sun Hits: Slow Drive

Sukuna Takes Over Megumi

Little Talks: Of Monsters and Men

ilomilo: Billie Eilish

Running Up That Hill: Kate Bush

Mr. Loverman: Ricky Montgomery

All I Wanted: Paramore

_________________________________

_____________________________________________

Fushiguro's pov

First Interaction/impression

Use Somebody: Kings of Leon

I Want You: Savage Garden

I Want You Around: Snoh Aalegra

Amazing: Rex Orange County

Cursed Womb

Angel of Mine: Monica

Let You Break My Heart Again: Laufey

Watching Itadori Die

When The Sun Hits: Slowdrive

Watching Him Fade Away: Mac DeMarco

Fade Into You: Mazzy Star

Heart To Heart: Mac DeMarco

The Ghost Of You: My Chemical Romance

Itadori’s ‘dead’ phase

Star: Mitski

When You’re Gone: The Cranberries

See You Again: Tyler, The Creator

Show Me How: Men I Trust

I Think I Like When It Rains: WILLIS

Telephones: Vacations

Kyoto Goodwill Event: Itadori's Surprised Resurrection

Here Comes Your Man: Pixies

For The First Time: Mac DeMarco

IFHY: Tyler, The Creator

By Your Side: Sade

At Your Best (You Are Loved): Aaliyah

Kyoto Goodwill Event: Battles

Buddy Holly: Weezer

Drive ME crazy: Lil Yachty

Adore you: Miley Cyrus

Death Painting Arc

Black Friday: Tom Odell

Angel: Brent Faiyaz

Sunflower: Rex Orange County

Loving Is Easy: Rex Orange County

Best Friend: Laufey

Here With Me: D4vd

Shibuya Accident

Tongue Tied: Grouplove

Always Forever: Cults

Itadori's Extermination

Time After Time: Cyndi Lauper

Remedy: Adele

Hate To See Your Heart Break: Paramore

You Get What You Give: New Radicals

Culling Game

Blue Hair: TV Girl

Everyone Adores You (at least I do): Matt Maltese

Collide: Howie Day

THE SHADE: Rex Orange County

Little Talks: Of Monsters and Men

Sukuna Takes Over

ilomilo: Billie Eilish

In The Darkness: Clara La San

Broken: Lifehouse

When It’s Cold I’d Like To Die: Moby, Mimi Goese

Doomed: Moses Sumney

Bring Me To Life: Evanescence

_____________________________________________

if you guys like SatoSugu just wait 😋🤞🏽

[cosmiccsea]

Scar-Crossed Lovers

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Utahime Iori Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Self-loathing, sexual content, manga spoilers

i. Unglued, Thanks To You

The rain came down hard on Utahime as she walked home in the dark, the moon and stars blotted out by the storm clouds, her only guiding light were the street lamps lining one side of the city road.  She passed in and out of the small pools of cold white light they created, not bothering to fish her umbrella out of her bag as she became soaked in the downpour.  The rain was a blessing for her, no one could see the tears streaming down her face as they mingled with the raindrops falling from the sky.  Only she knew of her tears, feeling the hot tracks they left in their wake before mingling with the cool droplets on her face.  She wished she couldn’t feel them, though.  At moments like this she wished she couldn’t feel at all.  Emotions never seemed to do her any good.

“You gonna cry?” His voice had been so calloused, so uncaring, so unlike what she had grown used to.

“As if I would ever cry over you,” she had thrown at him in anger.  He had always been so good at that.  Making her angry.

Utahime curses herself.  She was only able to keep her word until she reached Kyoto, as the thunder boomed in the sky and resounded through the concrete city her emotions once again got the better of her.  On her good days she knew that her deep compassion and empathy was her strength as a teacher, she could understand her students and help them in ways other teachers couldn’t.  But today was not a good day.  Today, she hated how emotional she got.  She hated how she couldn’t help but cry over him - cry over a relationship she had known was doomed from the start.

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[sashi-ya]

ᴍɪɴɪ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ > ＣＯＴＴＯＮ ＣＡＮＤＹ ＣＬＯＵＤＳ˚۰

ＰＩＮＫ ＳＫＹ ❀ ＰＩＮＫ ＢＵＤＳ ｔｒａｆａｌｇａｒ ｌａｗ ｘ ｆ！ ｒｅａｄｅｒ

request. Anonymous asked: hi! can i request law with fem reader and prompt pink sky, pink buds? nsfw if u can! thx in advance 💕 tw. not super +18 since it's a sweet event. mentions of sex. kisses everywhere. Law gives reader a sweet surprise... a ring! wc. 633 masterlist.

The first petal falling over the tip of your nose, his hands around your waist.

“The sky is tinted in pink” he whispers and softly squeezes your skin. You can’t see, you are blindfolded. Law is guiding you somewhere; a so needed vacation time finds you both enjoying the backyard of a traditional Japanese house in Kyoto.

You smile, enjoying his touch and curious about his surprise. “I have to say I’m amazed, I never thought you could be this romantic” you say, sure his cheeks are already blushing like crazy.

And you aren’t wrong. Law’s caramel cheeks become cherries and his icy eyes look at the side to make his own cringe a little more bearable. “Stop it…” he mumbles, embarrassed.

“I’m not laughing, I’m being serious” you answer back, after all you aren’t used to him being romantic.

Law stops, and with the soft breeze of the Japanese spring time, your hair dances. “So, are you ready? I’m gonna take your blindfold off, (Name)-ya” he murmurs, with his voice a little trembling and his breath becoming haste and shaky.

You aren’t sure why he sounds so nervous, but you are anticipating discovering it, so much.

“Please, whenever I take it off wait a few seconds to open your eyes” he finishes, as you feel his tattooed hands untying the silky bandana he used to cover your eyes.

You wait until he indicates, and when you finally fix your sight on him you discover he is crunching, with one knee on the ground and a little red box on his hands.

You widen your eyes, it can’t be real… Law is proposing?!

The moment freezes, the sakura buds shaken by a subtle wind rain on you, and the pink of the skies mix with a beautiful mantle of flowers over the ground. You are surrounded by pink, and it feels like a dream.

“(Nam-Name)-ya…ya, would yo- you… marry mwe?” Law asks, stuttering and acting like the cutest person in this whole world.

Your lips tremble, you are trying not to cry. The surprise is so damn beautiful, you can’t help it. Watery orbs reflect the rosé clouds, and the rustling of the cherry blossom tree garnishing the centre of the garden synchronizes with your heartbeats.

“Yes! YES I DO! I love you so much!!!” you excitedly jump and accept, of course you do… you love him more than anything and anyone.

Law smiles and breathes alleviated. The poor man still had a little doubt about your answer, but what a dummy he is… “I- I love you, for the eternity… thank you…”

His trembling hand slides the ring on your finger, and as he does you pounce into him. Kisses everywhere, you place. Kisses, a hug, and so many cuddles making him fall to the ground with you over him.

“You cute little shit, this was your surprise?? AH I’M SO HAPPY!! Kiss me!! Make love to me!!” you chime, kissing his neck and collarbones.

The surgeon giggles, but soon he begins to laugh loudly. He is so happy he forgot his “serious man” paper. And you are loving it way too much, because you know the real Law, you really do.

And so many kisses in his neck you give to him, that, you can feel something hard underneath your ass. Sitting over his lap gives you access to his arousal, and you can’t wait… “I’m serious, make. love. to. me”

Law changes his dumb smile to a sexy smirk, and with just a swing he changes positions. Him on top, your back against the pink covered grass. “Right here? What if a neighbour see us?” he whispers, taking your shirt off. “Let them rejoice in the celebration of our future wedding, then ~” “As you wish my sweet future wife…”

[tsokomari]

slippery pavement | miya osamu

“Hey.” A teasing greeting arrives from behind… you note the familiarity of the voice, and there was no reason for you to look at his face to know who he is.

His cheers of encouragement or shouts of triumph on the court are always the first things your ears search for most of the time.

“Hey, you, yourself.” Squatting on the school building’s slippery steps, you wave a hand at him, not bothering to peek. Just staring at the pouring rain in front of you.

“It’s already seven… did yer club duties hold 'yah back?”

“Not really, I just had to make some lesson plans for the freshman I’m tutoring… I guess I never noticed the time.” You sigh, with your elbow on your knee and your head leaning on your arm. “I should’ve listened to my mom when she said it’s going to be a rainy winter.”

“Can’t say I blame 'yah for forgettin’… it was sunny this morning after all.” Miya Osamu takes a seat beside you on the steps, his long legs tuck his gym bag within them, shielding the tattered sack from the rain. You turn to look at him.

He wears the varsity jacket over a clean shirt, he probably just finished practice today. He shivers slightly and blows hot air into his pretty, ungloved hands. His scarf is haphazardly wrapped around his neck as if he put them on in a hurry, and you try to ignore the dust of red on his nose and cheeks. You argue the cold must be getting to him.

You realize your gaze lingers a little too long when he raises his eyebrows at you in a silent inquiry, abruptly turning your head to look forward, you fake a cough to match your embarrassment.

“It’s kind of stupid that it rains in Kyoto in winter… isn’t it supposed to be snowing?”

It’s already a miracle that you talk to him when he finds you hanging out with Suna during lunch breaks. He remembers the day he overheard you telling the middle blocker that Atsumu exudes frat boy jerk vibes while Osamu feels like the calmer person overall. When you said, Osamu’s better, he took harsh note of the way his poor heart skipped a beat.

At that aforementioned heart will burst at the seams at the idea of being stuck with you under the rain. It’s already a whole lot of impossible that’s happening before his eyes.

He chuckles at your question, there’s really no other answer to that. “'Yah know we live in the south, right? The closest snow yer ever gonna get from here is up in the mountains.”

You spot a lint on your uniform, and you pick it off. “Yeah, I get it, I really do. I just prefer cold and ice rather than enduring cold and water.” The lint flies off somewhere on the wet horizon, just as you flicked it off your finger. “It’s kinda hard commuting home on slippery pavement.”

A puff of mist leaves Osamu’s lips as he chuckles. His eyes stay set on the dark school courtyard before you. “I guess I can’t argue with that one.”

Osamu’s rather surprised to find solitude in the short silence, when he’s normally a tangle of a jumbled mess when around ‘Suna’s only friend outside of volleyball’. There’s gratefulness in his heart that Suna isn’t around to tease him about you.

Truth be told, club practice ended an hour and a half ago. Everybody on the team was eager to go home after finding the gray clouds adorning the sunset sky. Kita and Aran even offered to eat at a local diner with the twin spiker, since it was the first time in a long time that he was not attached to the hip by his blond sibling.

Alas, as he excused himself to take a quick stop to the restroom, where he finds your nearby hunched form seated on the floor. Books and notebooks were scattered on the bench of the empty corridor. It pops into his mind that the library now closes at four-thirty because apparently, Inarizaki’s only librarian is a month away from her maternity leave.

He would be delighted to throw a greeting in your direction. But to see your scrunched-up eyebrows and cute tongue popping out of your lips in concentration, Osamu decides to quietly leave you be. He goes to Aran to tell him that he’s going to put on some serving practice today. With his fingers desperately crossed behind his back, the horribly smitten lad wishes the third year would buy his excuse and get on with it.

Aran’s raised eyebrow obviously showed that didn’t buy a single thing about it… but the captain did. It was more common to see Atsumu putting on extra work compared to Osamu, but whatever questions the ace had in mind, he, fortunately, stayed silent about it.

“I don’t see a problem with a lil’ more practice.” Kita bids him goodbye. “Just make sure 'yah clean up the gym like how I do it.”

Osamu tried not to sound giddy, he really did. “Roger that.”

He plans on wooing you somehow or at least try taking you home. It wasn’t hard to clean the gym alone, and he hopes to accidentally bump into you on the way out of the main building. He just forgot to calculate how strong the rain was going to be, and his brother, in all his stupid ass, just had to steal the spiker's umbrella from him.

Your voice in the rain breaks him out of his trance. “Shouldn’t you be with Atsumu or something?“

"Didn’t 'yah hear? He’s in Tokyo for the youth training camp.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Heard he’s finally gonna be a hotshot or somethin’.”

“Well…” You tuck your chin on your arm that rests on your knee. Hopeful that the rainy night sky shields your bashfulness from the gray-haired twin. “… I think you deserve a seat on that team too.”

Osamu feels his heart leaping somewhere in his throat. It takes every fiber of his being not to turn red at what you said. “Oh, no, no. I’m not all up for that.”

“So I heard. You’re gonna be a chef, aren’t you?”

“Who told 'yah that?” His eyebrows raise in surprise. Everyone on the team swore they wouldn’t let the Atsumu vs Osamu fiasco leave the gym doors. It was a personal fight, after all, Suna knew that much.

You chuckle. “No one. But you gotta make sure Suna doesn’t talk to Aran on the phone too loudly. I can hear him all the way from the second floor.”

“I’m gonna kill that guy.”

“I know you will. But hey, don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

“It’s not like it needs sealin’ anyways. 'Tsumu already knows.” He scratches the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. “It’s why I came to 'yer class all bruised up a few weeks ago.”

You blink slowly at him, finally connecting the dots as to why he came to Suna on that one lunch break with a bruised lip and subtle black eye. You can quite remember that despite how beaten up he looks, Osamu smugly tells the middle blocker that he landed more punches on his brother. “He’s kind of a dickhead for doing that.”

“I mean… I’m wrong too, 'yah know? Should’ve told him what I felt little by little instead of dumping it all up his ass that I’m takin’ a totally different career path.” He stretches his legs in front of him, the tips of his outdoor shoes getting a little wet from the rain. “Don’t tell anyone I told ‘yah this. But 'Tsumu used to keep a notebook of plans he wants us to achieve as volleyball players. He even wrote there he wants a niece by age twenty-seven!”

“Well to be very honest, it seems more plausible that he’s the one out of the two of you to accidentally knock someone.”

Osamu laughs, suddenly remembering how you had always stereotyped his twin brother as a wild child.

Silence blankets the both of you, and Osamu sees you pull out your phone after two short rings that cut through the pitter-patter of the rain.

“Hey, Mom…” You pass a sheepish smile to the spiker, and he only nods in understanding. “…. yeah, yeah, I’m stuck in the rain…. yep. Mhm… I don’t think the rain’s gonna stay until Dad finishes overtime….”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Not when the gods have blessed him with the luxury of having you all to himself for the first time. You don’t notice his soft gaze, but when you turn to look at him, you feel like you’re going to vomit your heart out… positively.

You watch him raise his eyebrows as you continue listening to your mom. Thank goodness there’s no other soul to witness two people blatantly staring at each other.

“Yeah. The rain’s getting mellow now. Yes, I’m with someone I trust… it’s a friend. Yes, it’s a dude…. no, it’s not Rin.” You blink at Osamu twice, and he’s endeared by how shy your expression suddenly morphed into. “Yes, Mom, it’s him. No, we stay quiet about that. Yeah, I’ll see you soon, okay? Okay. Yeah, no need to tell Dad. I’ll be fine.”

There’s a smug smile threatening to appear on Osamu’s face. He’s proud to know that you consider him someone you feel safe with. And he’s giddy with the idea that you talk about him with your mom. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he’s building the confidence in asking you out as each minute passes.

You bid your mother a short goodbye, and you suddenly feel embarrassed for staring at Osamu for too long. Let’s not disregard the fact that he was staring at you for longer.

“Hey,” Osamu finally says. When you turn your head to look at him again, it takes every bit of his wit not to kiss you right then and there. “I think the rain’s not stoppin’ soon. Wanna make a break for it?”

You scoff at his suggestion. “And have you go to the gym tomorrow half-dead with a tissue up your nose? Not a chance. Your team will kill me.”

“C’mon! The rain’s not that bad!”

“It’s literally three degrees Celcius out here!”

“It’s either we run or our moms are gonna beat our asses!”

First of all, it’s your parents’ fault for choosing to get a house instead of a car or apartment when you moved to Kyoto, cutting your chances of finding a way home when your house is six bus stops and one bus change away from the campus. Second, your mom will not shut up if she finds out you’re taken home late with the boy you wouldn’t shut up to her about. Lastly, your dad will have a heart attack if he finds out you actually are still not home on the day he was told to do overtime at work.

You chew at your bottom lip in contemplation, and you don’t notice Osamu’s eyes immediately darting back to the rain before him. “We’re both gonna die, Miya.”

To begin, it was entirely Atsumu’s fault for stealing his twin’s beloved umbrella in the middle of a rainy winter season. Second, his mom would interrogate him before letting him in the house if she finds out her son took someone home in the late-night, winter rain. Finally, Kita’s gonna kill him if he goes to school sick right after he was expected to improve on his serves.

“We die today, or we die tomorrow. It’s ‘yer choice to make.” Osamu’s already standing up, his hand outstretched to you.

“Fine.”

On the way home, the rain doesn’t stop. But that isn’t the problem. The problem is how you’re going to maintain your composure, because while he lives on the other side of downtown, Osamu insisted he’d take you home. All, six stops and one bus change. You argue that his house is only a few blocks from the second stop, and he tells you it’s totally fine.

You’re now walking home with him after the long bus ride. Your hair is only partially wet from the rain because the spiker used his gym bag to shield you. The uniform and winter coat feel heavy on you, but you reckon that this night did not feel bad. Not when you’ve spent the entirety of it laughing and chattering with Osamu.

His voice stops when he feels the rain going heavier with each drop. He musters all the bravery he has and takes your hand in his.

“Miya, wha-”

“Careful. We’re gonna run and it’s gonna be slippery.”

TSOKOMARI © 2023. do not plagiarize, translate or repost. all works are my own. reblogs are appreciated!

[thesakuragarnet]

Pent-Up (TouKei Quirkless College AU)

Summary: Touya and Keigo are long-distance and going through a dry spell.

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! S3XUAL TAGS WILL BE HIDDEN BELOW THE KEEP READING BUTTON!

Non-Spicy Tags: DabiHawks, College AU, No Quirks AU, long-distance relationship, fluff, light angst, smut, making out, swearing, idiots in love, teasing

Word Count: 3,462 words

AO3 link

Spicy tags: explicit s3xual content, sub bottom Dabi, dom top Hawks, aftercare, a n a l s3x, masturb8tion in the shower, shower s3x, n!ppleplay, bl0wjobs

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Touya missed Keigo. There was nothing else to it. He missed his dumb, adorable laugh. He missed the way his eyes sparkled with flecks of gold in the sunlight. He missed the way that they fell into the same rhythm of steps when they walked side by side. He missed the way that they would sit on opposite sides of the room, not saying anything, simply enjoying each other’s company. He missed the way his lips curled into a smile filled to the brim with love when he caught him staring. But most of all, he missed his touch. He missed the way his hand fit perfectly in his. He missed the way his soft lips pressed against his neck. He even missed Keigo waking him up in the middle of the night because he’d accidentally stolen all the blankets in his sleep. Touya missed Keigo. 

And at this very moment, Touya can’t bring himself to concentrate on his professor’s lecture. It had been a month. A whole month of not seeing each other. Touya and Keigo were high school sweethearts, graduating from UA high school and choosing to continue dating long-distance when Keigo had to go back to Kyushu to take care of his mom. Touya was enrolled at Kyoto University, which was about a six-hour train ride away. Despite everything, they’d made it work. They traded off, visiting one another every other weekend, but they hadn’t gone this long without visiting in years . It hadn’t seemed to put any strain on their relationship, but, nonetheless, it was annoying. To Touya, it was more than annoying. It was gut-wrenching. He needed Keigo…especially with how the past few weeks had been going. Everything was crashing down on him. His last round of exams had thoroughly kicked his ass, he’d lost sleep from the stress, and he’d gotten in a minimum of ten fights with his parents over the phone. The stress and exhaustion were making him feel physically sick. His brain is filled with white noise as he tries to process literally anything his professor is saying. All of it goes in one ear and out the other. All he can think about is Keigo. They’re supposed to meet up at a halfway point tonight to get dinner, and each tick of the clock on the wall is driving him insane. He’s dividing the time in his head, counting the minutes, seconds, and hours. Suddenly, his phone screen lights up beside his open notebook on the desk, and Touya sharply inhales when he sees the familiar nickname crawl across the screen. Frantically, he opens the text message.

Kei: hey…something came up at the hospital. They need me to work an extra shift. I’m so sorry, T, but I’ll have to rain-check this one.

Touya’s world comes crashing down around him, and he feels his chest getting tight. This was the only thing that had kept him going all week, and now it was ripped from his hands. Who knew when they were going to get to see each other again? Two more weeks? Four more weeks? Touya can’t stand it. He wants to be angry; part of him is angry, but he knows it isn’t his fault. He swallows his sigh of disappointment as he sinks into the chair, wishing he could continue to sink into the ground until he was away from everyone and everything. Touya barely even registers when class is over until he blinks, realizing that he’s the only one left in the room. His heart aches and his throat hurts as he feels tears welling up in his eyes, and he sloppily gathers his belongings before storming out of the classroom. He stops dead in his tracks when he looks out the window and sees the torrential downpour, realizing he’d forgotten his umbrella. 

…

The walk to his apartment from campus was about thirty minutes, and Touya trudged through the pouring rain with a scowl painted on his face. He’s freezing, soaked to the bone, and more desperate than he’s ever felt. He’d needed a nice weekend with Keigo. He’d been craving the feeling of Keigo’s strong arms wrapping around him, keeping him safe and snug. He’d been longing for Keigo’s blissfully amorous touch that would make him forget about all of his problems. Now, his weekend is just going to be filled with emptiness. He’ll probably just heat up one of his dwindling cans of ramen, eat the same thing for three days in a row, stay inside all day, curled up in a blanket, wishing that Kyushu would’ve offered a program that he could transfer to. He’d have no excuse not to answer his phone if his mother called, badgering him about making any friends, which he still hadn’t. Touya was a loner…except when he was with Keigo. His phone vibrates incessantly in his pocket as he sees his apartment complex come into view. For a fleeting moment, hope stirs in his gut, and he tears it out…only to see that it’s his father calling. He grits his teeth as the vibration stops, only to start again almost instantly. He stalks into the building, fumbling for his keys as he stomps up the stairs to his floor. The third time the phone jolts against his leg, Touya snaps. As he storms to his door and jams the keys into the lock, he answers the phone. 

“I DON’T WANNA FUCKING TALK RIGHT NOW!” He snaps angrily, his voice cracking as he violently shoves the door open. The second he steps inside and lifts his head, he sees Keigo standing in the middle of his living room, holding a bouquet of rindo flowers, looking extremely concerned. Touya drops his phone as he stares at Keigo, open-mouthed in total shock. He feels faint. Keigo is here . Keigo is here here. In his apartment. 

“Uh…surprise?” Keigo laughs nervously, not sure what to make of his frazzled, sopping-wet boyfriend as the awkward silence is permeated by the faint irate screams of Touya’s father blasting from the phone. Slowly, the white-haired man processes the scene before him, taking note of the cinnamon candle burning on the table between two freshly made plates of yakitori. Touya picks up his phone, promptly hanging up on his father as he turns around and closes the door, pressing his hands flat against the wood as he stares at the ground. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down and decide which emotion to choose. Moments before, he was angry enough to smash something, and now, everything he wanted is right behind him. If Keigo knew how shitty he’d been feeling, he probably wouldn’t have tricked him like this. In truth, Touya hasn't been as open lately. He didn’t want Keigo to feel bad about having to constantly cancel their time together. But…

“You fucking liar ,” Touya laughs light-heartedly as he turns around, pointing a fake accusatory finger at his boyfriend as he feels his anger melting away. Keigo seems to silently sigh in relief as he shrugs sheepishly, holding the flowers out to him.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have tricked you. Seems like you haven’t been having the best day,” Keigo mutters apologetically as Touya takes the flowers. 

“It’s the best day, now ,” Touya grins, drinking in the familiar scent of his favorite flower, picking up the faint whiffs of his boyfriend’s cologne mixed in. He’s so full of intense relief at this moment that it’s almost painful. The heartache he’d been experiencing for weeks is fading. On instinct, he walks forward, opening his arms to pull Keigo into a hug, but the blonde steps back and laughs nervously as he puts his hands up. 

“Whoa, there, loverboy. I promise I’ll give you the biggest hug in the universe but you may wanna get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold,” Keigo sneers, and Touya rolls his eyes, huffing and wiping away the strands of white hair that are plastered to his forehead from the rain. He suddenly becomes very aware of how cold he keeps his apartment, and the chill sends an uncomfortable shiver through his body in combination with his soaked clothes. 

“Lemme jump in the shower real quick before dinner,” Touya mutters, leaving his bag on the floor as he heads to the bathroom. 

…

He still can’t believe Keigo is here . He can’t remember the last time they were alone in his apartment. The last couple of times they’d gotten together, they met at a halfway point. Keigo hadn’t spent the night over in ages . In fact, Touya had almost forgotten that he still had a key. He’d been so pent-up over the past couple of weeks. He’d craved Keigo’s touch. He’d craved Keigo’s voice in his ear, breathing down his neck. As Touya stands in the steaming shower, he zones out, daydreaming about his lover. A soft sigh breezes past his lips as he imagines Keigo pinning him to his bed, staring into his eyes through the thrusts, planting soft kisses on his lips that harshly contrast with the rough sex. Touya feels light-headed as the blood surges from his brain to between his legs, and one of his hands ghosts over his erection as he slowly strokes himself. 

“ Keigo ,” Touya moans under his breath, eyelids fluttering closed as he braces himself against the wall, his back pressing against the cool tile as his brain fills with his boyfriend’s groans of pleasure. 

“ Oh, fuck ,” He whimpers, his other hand grasping at his pec, digging his fingernails into his skin the same way that Keigo does. His back arches as a chill runs down his spine, and he inhales the steam as the warm water trickles down his face. Touya doesn’t hear Keigo enter the bathroom over the water and his own pleasured noises; he hadn’t realized how loud he’d gotten. Keigo strips down, a smile playing at his lips as he listens to his partner fantasizing. He’d missed the sweet sounds he made; Keigo had missed the way he felt pressed up against Touya… inside him. With a mischievous grin, he pulls the shower curtain back, and Touya almost jumps, turning white as a ghost. His rock-hard cock throbs in his hand. 

“Having fun without me?” Keigo asks innocently, taking in the scene in front of him as he steps into the shower. Touya can’t find the words as Keigo puts his hands on the wall, each one on either side of his head.

“I truly wonder…,” Keigo hums, eyes scanning up and down his lover’s slightly-toned body. Their bodies are separated by only mere inches, cocks twitching with just barely enough space to avoid one another. “How long we both can make it without touching?”

Keigo’s voice is sickeningly teasing, on the verge of taunting with a slightly sadistic air. Touya’s heart is racing, and, for a moment, he feels faint. Keigo was thoroughly in shape, and the sight of his bulging biceps as he presses his hands against the wall is enough for Touya to bite his lip. He wants Keigo all over him. He wants him to use him up until they’re both puddles of pleasure, and then he just wants to fall asleep snuggled up in his arms while Keigo whispers sweet nothings in his ear. 

“Can you do something for me, baby?” Keigo croons, and Touya practically dissolves into the floor at the pet name. He gulps, nodding wordlessly as they’re locked in an intense staring contest. Blue absorbed into gold. 

“I’m going to kiss you. But. The first person to touch the other loses,” The blonde proposes. 

“What happens if you win?” Touya raises his eyebrow. 

“Bragging rights,” Keigo shrugs, “It’s just something a little different. Something to really snap the tension.” 

“Okay,” Touya stammers, wishing he could rip the fucking tension in half. He can hardly take it. He’s on the verge of begging.

A smirk plays at Keigo’s lips and, slowly , he closes his eyes, leans in, and kisses Touya. It takes everything inside Touya not to moan like a whore into his boyfriend’s mouth. Keigo’s kisses are incredibly addicting. His touch is a drug that Touya can’t get enough of. The white-haired man’s eyes flutter shut as he kisses him back; the soft, innocent sounds of their lips colliding in intermittent bursts are inaudible beneath the water. 

“Missed you…so much…,” Keigo breathes between kisses, and Touya echoes his words before desperately flicking his tongue at Keigo’s bottom lip. The blonde chuckles before teasing with a short, returning glide across his boyfriend’s top lip, and Touya’s eyes roll back into his head. He wants to grab Keigo. To pull him so close. He wants skin-to-skin contact. He wants savage passion. He wants Keigo . Touya desperately sucks on Keigo’s bottom lip, gently taking it between his teeth and pulling, as if silently pleading. Keigo exhales sharply through his nose, as if trying to restrain himself from railing Touya into next week. He shudders as he effortlessly slips his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth, making him moan like a bitch in heat. Touya almost seems surprised with himself at the noise, but he doesn’t let that distract him for very long as he focuses on how Keigo’s tongue traces against his own. Restrained, low whimpers muffle in Touya’s throat as he fights the urge to crumble into a pleading, horny mess. The sounds are music to Keigo’s ears, and it gets him even more riled up. Steam from the water fills the shower, fogging up the mirror and the entire bathroom.

Keigo’s the one who breaks first when he feels Touya moan his name into his mouth, tasting sweeter than honey; he grabs Touya’s shoulders, startling him. 

“You win,” Keigo laughs under his breath as he takes a step forward, ripping a moan from Touya’s throat as their cocks rub against one another. A small stream of curses falls from the blonde’s lips as his calloused hands slowly travel down Touya’s body, fingernails lightly tracing against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Touya kisses Keigo with a fervor, water droplets clinging to his eyelashes as the water cascades down their bodies. 

“ Fuck me ,” Touya whines between sloppy lip locks as Keigo’s fingers tenderly ghost over his nipples. They’d been together so long, they’d memorized all of each other’s weak points. 

“Not yet,” Keigo answers, borderline impatient, as if he’s trying to convince himself. Deliberately, he pinches Touya’s nipples between his fingers, making his boyfriend curse and writhe against the wall. The movement increases the friction between their cocks, forcing moans out of both of them. Keigo starts to bend down before he presses his lips to one of his nipples, swirling his tongue around and around before carefully taking it between his teeth. Touya softly cries out, eyelids fluttering as one of his hands finds its way into Keigo’s hair, combing through the damp blonde locks. 

“ Kei ,” Touya gasps as his cock throbs, aching for more stimulation than the fleeting feeling of Keigo’s length. Keigo’s stare is full of lust as he traces kisses down his body, knees bending until they hit the tile of the shower floor. Touya’s eyes fly open, and he looks down to see Keigo kneeling before him, staring at his cock with a hungry gaze. 

“ Please, please, please ,” Touya finds himself begging before it even registers in his head, and Keigo’s lips curl into a devious smirk. 

“You don’t have to beg, T. I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Keigo huffs before he licks up and down Touya’s cock. Touya drags his hands down his face, leaning his head back against the wall to moan in ecstasy as Keigo takes him all the way into his mouth. It takes an uncomfortable amount of self-control for Touya not to greedily thrust. He wants more. He wants it forever . Keigo’s eyes water as he fights his gag reflex, pushing forward until his nose is pressing into Touya’s flesh. Keigo reaches into the basket of various shower gels and other bottles beside them, and Touya realizes he’s looking for the lube. 

“W-wait, wait, wait,” Touya stutters, breathing hard as he gently pushes Keigo off of him. Keigo coughs, sputtering under the water, and Touya promptly turns the pressure off. The air is still thick with steam. He reaches up into the top shelf and hands Keigo a bottle. Immediately, the blonde resumes deepthroating his lover as he opens the bottle and slathers it on his fingers. Touya’s voice breaks as he cries out, and Keigo works two fingers inside him, slowly massaging in circles. 

“ God, don’t stop ,” Touya begs, his mouth hanging open, and his moans bounce off the walls without background noise to mask them. The lewd sounds of Keigo slurping and sucking turn him on even more. Touya feels his whole body practically melt, and as his muscles relax and give in, Keigo presses a third finger inside. 

“Almost ready for me, baby?” Keigo grunts as he pulls back to take a breath, pressing a slutty kiss to Touya’s tip. 

“I want you so bad,” Touya answers, his voice sounding horribly desperate. Keigo starts to spread the lube over his throbbing length as he tries his best not to break. Seeing Touya getting off feels so good. 

“Lemme know if I’m too rough,” Keigo insists as he rises, and Touya promptly turns to face the wall, putting his hands against it as he spreads his legs. Keigo’s heart flutters seeing Touya in such a horny frenzy. It had been too long. The moment he starts pushing inside, Touya becomes a stuttering, begging mess. Touya’s breath comes out in choked sobs as he becomes completely absorbed in the pleasure, turning his head to press his cheek into the cool tile of the shower wall. His tongue slightly lolls out of his mouth as his panting makes wisps in the steam with every roll of Keigo’s hips. 

“ God , you’re so fucking sexy,” The blonde huffs as he leans forward, gently pressing his teeth into the side of Touya’s neck. The white-haired man whines, lips trembling as his legs shake and Keigo picks up his rhythm. Every thrust wrecks him so beautifully. His nerves feel like they’re on fire, and his emotions are intensely flaring throughout his body. The aching emptiness he’d been feeling for weeks has been replaced with overflowing passion. The two feel like they’ve been brought back to life…as if they’re breathing clean air after drowning for so long. 

“ Kei , Kei, ah~” He moans, his breath hitching when he feels his lover reach around and wrap a hand around his twitching cock. Keigo plants deep kisses on Touya’s neck, hungrily sucking on his skin. Their pleasured noises blend together in a beautiful harmony, echoing off of the walls and resonating in the bathroom acoustics. Keigo mutters Touya’s name under his breath, eyelids fluttering as he feels the familiar buildup in the pit of his stomach. 

“Close,” He murmurs swiftly into the nape of Touya’s neck, and his answer is a sudden jolt of his lover’s body as he orgasms without warning. The way his insides squeeze around Keigo sends him over the edge, and he harshly bites Touya’s shoulder as he empties into him. Within a few moments, Keigo slows his hips to a halt, and they remain still and shaking, breathing hard in the damp, warm bathroom. 

“I fucking love you,” Touya stammers, stumbling over his words as he tries to regain his composure. 

“I love you, too,” Keigo whispers sweetly, planting a gentle kiss on the bite mark he left. 

…

…

With full stomachs and full hearts, Touya and Keigo are now cuddled up on Touya’s twin mattress. Touya rests his head on Keigo’s bare chest, listening intently to his familiar heartbeat as Keigo traces small circles on his back with his fingertips. 

“I vote we never go that long without seeing each other ever again,” Touya chuckles half-heartedly, and Keigo sighs. 

“I second that…but you know I can’t promise it. You’ve got, what. One more year? Then you graduate and can move to Kyushu with me,” Keigo yawns groggily before adding “Then we have to put up with seeing each other more often than ever.” 

“I think I’ll be okay with that,” Touya smiles, wrapping his arms around Keigo’s middle and nuzzling into his pecs. “How’d you even manage to be away for the whole weekend?”

“I bribed Rumi to watch Tomie. She owes me, and she was doing some motivational summit in town anyway,” Keigo replies. 

“Remind me to thank her,” Touya murmurs as his eyelids start to droop. Keigo kisses the top of his boyfriend’s head as they both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[cookinguptales]

Plz show us the kitsune wedding jacket

Well, I honestly don't have any good pictures of me wearing it, and because the back is the prettiest part, I can't really take a selfie in it...

Hang on, I'll pull it out and take a couple photos of it on a chair or something.

So not during our trip this year, but the first time my family went to Japan (and the first time I went back after going to school there) I took my Dad to a part of Kyoto that I hung out in a lot while I was a student there called Teramachi. It's a part of Kyoto that had a lot of Buddhist temples (the name literally means "temple town") after Toyotomi Hideyoshi had them relocated there in the 16th century, and now... it's a covered shopping arcade! But a lot of the temples are still there!

So kind of imagine a shopping mall, but every few stores one of the little lots is actually a 400-year-old Buddhist temple. Like... legit, one of the temples in Teramachi is where Oda Nobunaga died. Some of them are very important buildings! That you can buy donuts next to.

I kind of love the vibe. (And some of the stores selling Buddhist altar supplies and beautiful wooden statues I could never afford!)

Anyway, Dad and I were wandering the street and we saw a store selling embroidered rayon bomber jackets. We were mostly window shopping because they cost a fortune, but I saw one that I really fell in love with.

Now... with my body type, I don't exactly get a lot of clothes shopping done in Japan. But bombers are often worn baggy and unzipped, so I could make it work. And guys, it had the most beautiful design.

There's this idea in Japanese folklore, a fox spirit (kitsune) wedding, or kitsune no yomeiri. You hear people mention it a lot when it's raining while it's sunny out -- you know, the fox spirit takes a bride or whatever. It's what they call a sunshower. Anyway, the idea is that during misty sunshowers (or at night, if you see faraway lights bobbing in the distance) you might see a kitsune wedding procession. Typically humans aren't allowed to attend, but like any kind of fairy story, occasionally humans stumble into them.

Kitsune are known for their illusions, so there are a lot of stories about their weddings appearing (or disappearing) in the mist, humans being led astray, etc.

This jacket has a kitsune wedding embroidered on it and oh!! Guys, it's so beautiful.

My dad knew I was never going to spend (I looked it up) about 40k yen on something for myself, so he ended up buying it for me as a Christmas present. It was late November, so it was perfect timing. ;;

Anyway, like I said, I don't really have any good pictures of me wearing it -- partially because I'm so afraid of wearing it and messing it up! But I know it's stupid to have a jacket that you never wear. Maybe once the cherry blossoms bloom this year in Philadelphia I'll get a friend to take some photos of me in it in Washington Square Park or something.

But I did try to get a FEW photos just so you can understand why I'm so protective over this thing, haha.

[lantur]

updates from day two of Kyoto,

Waking up super early in the morning (~5:50 AM) came in clutch. Kyoto in the early morning with rain and very few people around is very atmospheric. I explored Kiyomizu-dera temple and the historic streets of Ninnenzaka and Sannenzaka before 8 AM, and had breakfast at a cute little cafe. It was comforting to be somewhere bright and warm after a dark, grey early morning exploration.

I normally don't eat breakfast at home. I wake up, have tea, and rush right off to the gym before work starts. It's been really nice to treat myself to breakfasts on several of these vacation days.

I spent most of yesterday exploring Arashiyama, a region in western Kyoto. Something that took me by surprise was how much the landscape resembled Washington state. It was mountainous, forested, and mossy. The resemblance stood out even more in the rain.

Good things:

Intense green moss at Gio-ji temple, and having the small temple completely to myself.

Birds singing and calling to each other everywhere in the forest, and the sound of rain pattering on my umbrella and flowing down spouts and dripping off statues and leaves. I never realized how few birds I hear in my everyday life until I traveled to Peru and here.

The eeriness and fascination of the Otagi Nenbutsu-ji temple, with its 1200 stone Buddhas peering at me as rain dripped off them.

The completely empty walk in the rain through a side street to Adashino Nenbutsu-ji temple, the rain soaking the 8,000 statues there dedicated to deceased souls.

Another empty bamboo forest at Daikaku-ji temple, and seeing the grove of cherry blossoms there just starting to bloom. It was so beautiful and special to be there alone.

I loved that so much of Arashiyama felt intensely isolated. There were hours where I felt like the only person wandering around the area. It was only in the late afternoon that I started to see other tourists again.

Challenges:

Walking around in the rain for ~seven hours was uncomfortable, because I got cold and wet even with my umbrella and was walking around in wet socks and shoes for almost the entire time :(( which was a very gross sensation. The silver lining was that the rainy vibes were impeccable.

Successes:

I went to a public bathhouse yesterday evening! It was delightful to be able to warm up in the hot baths and the sauna after being out in the cold. I'm also very proud of myself for getting out of my comfort zone and trying something new. Past me would never have been able to do this. I think all the swimming I've done over the past couple years and changing in and out of my swimsuit in the locker room with other people around has helped a lot. :) Dinner out after the bathhouse was giant grilled shrimp and scallops, and it was so good.

[nanamimizz]

Congratulations on your milestone!! ❤️❤️ 🎉🥳 May I request (special grade) a drabble with Gojo - where you both can’t stand each other (but you’re also, very much attracted to each other) and a heated argument leads to something spicy 🔥😏

UNDERNEATH ME.

Working with Gojo Satoru is as infuriating as it is well-paying. You like to think each cent of your paycheck equals another percentage of your sanity lost—a deal with the devil honestly. On paper, you are his assistant, but your curse technique makes you something more than that title permanent and he knows what you truly are: his handler. Gojo Satoru made it clear that you two aren’t friends, you are barely work colleagues as is. You can make chains that can not necessarily stop him - just hold him for long enough as a testament to his strength, anything else stays as you command. You both are inherently made to keep each other in check, you are both valuable resources; the higher-ups can’t let you two go to waste or worse, go rogue.

The tender wound of Geto Suguru still aches long after his absence.

You remember vividly the sweep Gojo made of you - recently made Grade 1 sorcerer from  the Kyoto branch, the way eyes hidden by tinted glasses looked you up and down and he called you ‘weak.’ If you were a cat, your tail would bristle and hang tight in the air behind you. It’s safe to say neither you nor he has made any effort to be friends, which suits you just fine. It’s bad enough you have to A) clean up after his messes, B ) report any moves he makes to higher-ups, and C) drop anything you have planned to comply with his schedule and -

Just thinking about all the 100 and 101 ways you have to accommodate the most infuriating man who thinks himself a god makes your head hurt. Rubbing at your temples with the one hand that isn’t on the steering wheel, you continue on the way to Gojo’s apartment, the rain pelting the inky black roads of Tokyo. It’s nights on this you miss Kyoto, storms always make Tokyo seem more uncaring, more impassive and invasive - just like a certain boss of yours…

You reach the penthouse apartments only Gojo would own, modern but luxuriant, you think he’d be the type to be into some gaudy shit but he’s actually pretty classy in terms of taste. You can give him that at least, you think as you text him - “I’m here, I’ll park and go up to your door in 5.” He leaves you on read which means an affirmative answer. Sighing in annoyance, you comply with what you said, you park and wave at the man in the lobby, who had held the door open with an umbrella for you to get in dryer than you would have alone. The few non-sorcerers that know of you simply think Gojo Satoru is from a company and you are his assistant who he calls over for last-minute work, which in a way is not completely wrong. Ignorance is bliss, you suppose.

“Mr. Gojo calling you after hours again Miss?” He asks good naturally and you smile wearily, handing him your raincoat that he takes with a perfect smile. Your black dress peaks under the warmer coat you wore underneath.

“You have no idea,” You sight, tucking out any hairs from your collar, hissing when you feel hair stuck in your earrings. The lobbyist frowns,

“Don’t tell me he called you when you were out.” You huff, fingers pinching at your nose as the throbbing at your temples pulses again.

“It was just a mixer a friend invited me to, Mr. Gojo doesn’t really respect my time. It’s fine as long as my pay goes up.” You’ve fixed yourself up enough, and give the lobbyist a quick goodbye, making your way to the elevator, glancing at your phone, and hissing when you see you have a minute to make it to his penthouse. Your foot taps at the marble flooring of the elevator and you feel annoyance pricklings at your skin - hot and burning.

The door dings and opens, the halls filled with the tapping of the heels you bought but never worn as you speed walk to his door. You go to the buzzer, wincing at the brief feedback  -  before the voice of the man behind your ire greets you back.

“You’re late.” The door clicks open and there he is. White hair falling down into his eyes, covered by sunglasses rather than his blindfold, and dressed in slate-covered loungewear. Your eyebrows twitch at his state of dress - he had told you it was an emergency, so why was he dressed like it was a damn sleepover. You feel his eyes rake your figure - dressed in a black dress and heels, the scent of your perfume is sweet and soft; it makes his mouth drool and makes him want to press his mouth to your neck to taste it.

“Please tell me that’s your new dress code - it beats those frumpy ass pants you wear.” You wonder if you have gray hairs yet because of this man you have to spend the rest of your career watching over until you die or retire. If your payment wasn’t as high as your annoyance, you would have quit in the first week.

“No. I was out when you texted.” Was all you said before he basically pushes you into his penthouse that you’ve spent more time in than you’d want to admit or like. He snorts behind you, head hanging above as Gojo brushes past you to the island bar near the kitchen area. He starts eating one of those stupid foreign treats he likes so much. You roll your eyes and take your coat off, leaving it on the coat hanger that stands on the edge of where the living room began. You really hate how nice his place is, if you liked him more you would definitely spend more time here than in your own place.

“I didn’t know you could go out - you’re always doing nothing when I ask for you.” You’re too busy detangling your hair from the earring, you fail to see how your superior drinks in the sight of your exposed back, the back of your thighs and how the buckles of your heels bite into the soft skin of your calves. He’s always thought of you as cute, the eager look on your face when you first met, the annoyed, flat face you’d give him when he would bother you were all expressions he adored, maybe because they were caused by him and his attention alone. But as he drinks in how pretty you are all done up - you have a face that he wants to ruin, something sour churns in his stomach as a realization settles in.

“What do you mean you were out?” He doesn’t ask, he interrogates, voice is a lot different  than the usual breezy and carefree way he usually speaks. There’s an edge, a hardened bitterness and he spits out the words like they are vile. You’ve stopped fiddling with your earrings, you decided to just take them off entirely - and you look at him with wide eyes.

“It was..a mixer. Some friends invited me, they wanted me to meet some guys I’d get along with-” You’re cut off by a scoff, and your face pinches into a sour frown. Crossing your arms, you challenge him,

“What?

Satoru looks like you've grown a second head. Ice tipped eyes meet yours over black shades, and he gets the look in his eyes when he’s trying to get a rise out of you, and like most things Gojo Satoru always gets what he wants.

“Nothing, just didn’t think such a proud girl like you would be easy like that.” Silence falls and you keep looking at him. You think, if you had known of him less, those words would have hurt you, if you didn’t know his tells, his signs that he’s doing this for attention -they would have broken some parts of yourself you keep hidden. Your hip cocks and you squint your eyes at him until realization hits. Satoru, the proud Gojo heir and clan head only gives in to his lesser nature for two reasons ; pride and jealousy.

“Is the reason for you calling me easy because you think me being as much of a floozy as you makes you look bad,” you pause and you circle him, and in the whole time you two have known each other it feels like you have the upper hand. “Or is it because you can’t stand the idea of another man having my attention.” He knows it’s a question but you mean like a conclusion and Satoru hates how you see through him, maybe even his Infinity doesn’t protect him from the gears of your mind. He considers it, saying yes and being sincere with you for the first time in your partnership, he looks at you - you look smug and apart of him wants to wipe the look off your face, his cocks begs by pushing your face into the pillows and making your bite them, but he decides to use his head.

“What do you think? You’ve spoiled me rotten, and I don’t like sharing.” He admits, dancing around the confession you two both know hangs in the air. You walk towards him, hip bumping into the bar and you look at him from your lashes. He can see the silver glitter you’ve added to your inner corner - he wonders if your tears of pleasure will be as glittery. Satoru smiles, he likes where this is going - you look proud of yourself as you blink slowly, like a cat does when it’s content.

“Spoiled you, huh? What, you mean me looking at you like you're the bane of my existence? Didn’t think you’d be that kind of guy, Satoru.” You say his name, you only call him Gojo but he likes how the syllables roll off your tongue. He grins behind his seat, the sugar dissolving on his tongue like how the barriers between you and him turn to honey. You’ve shifted closer to him as you spoke and he can get the notes of your perfume better now - something light and powdery, vanilla and brown sugar. He wonders how sweet you’d taste on his tongue.

“You don’t really know me do you? You’ve always been self centered and complaining bout’ me that you’ve never tried.” He remarks and he isn’t insulting you, his voice is lower, the sickly sweet edge to it is not there to cut - it’s top turn the lock to the door to something else. You scoff and your pretty eyes roll, he stops the urge to grip your chin to make you look at him, he decides he can do that later when he has your ankles over his shoulders.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been such a cunt -” Two large hands grip your waist and squeeze, making you wince and the power between his digits and palms. You blink and he has you up to him, pressed flush and his head is down to your ear. Satoru towers over you in height, strength and in position and it seems the game between the two of you has forgotten that. You may be his closet colleague, and now the object of his desire but that doesn’t spare you from his brute strength. He smells expensive and it makes your head spin, you feel his hot breath down your back and his thumbs rub into your hips.

“You keep running that mouth and I’ll either gag you or you shut it and I’ll fuck you for being nice.” You shake in his grasp and you feel like when a cat plays with its prey, you’ve forgotten that your place is always underneath Satoru, as much as he loves a little lip, his accursed pride forbids him from taking what he dishes out.

If you try to recall this in a the morning you don’t remember how you got to his bed, stripped down to your underwear - a cream colored, laced trimmed piece you wear to feel a little sexy ; which naturally Satoru pockets and he grins at the wide eyed look you give before he makes you see stars by how he sucks at your cunt. He has you folded at a speed that embarrasses you - it makes you squirm that he folds you over and keeps you there. Your tears ran black from your mascara as he made you cum from his hot mouth sucking at the pearl of your clit, long fingers reaching places that you can sometimes touch with your toys. You can’t even moan - senstivity turns hot and all you can do is gasp, whine, cry into the hot air that tastes like sex of Satoru’s room.

He looks up at you from your thighs and his eyes crinkle in amusement of how your face melts into ecstasy, eyes rimmed red and your eyeliner worn off from your pleasure caused tears. You hiccup and sob when he lets you go, your legs twitch pathetically, your cries go from relief to despair when you see his cock bare before you. Pink, ruddy and leaking - no wonder he took to making you cum so many times it blurred together : you haven’t gotten laid in a while, and with his size…you needed the extra care. The first inches make you wail to the ceiling, your hiccups are like an angel's song to Satoru’s ears as he grins at how your cunt twitches, sucking him in - desperate for what he can give you.

“Good thing I called you - think I might have killed whatever Tokyo fuck you gave this perfect pussy to. S’too good to be handing out to just anyone, yeah?” He asks, you don’t even register it, mind numb and dumb by the time you’ve taken half of his cock. Chuckling, he feels your cunt tighten then you soak him, leaving his cock feeling hot and he can even feel you drip down his bawls.

“S-satoru!” You whine at him, and he doesn’t know if it’s to warn him or just because he’s all you can think of. He laughs breathlessly, perfect white teeth digging into his pink lips. He brings himself down and down, until his breath fans your face. You can see his eyes, wholly and unblocked by anything. They are a beautiful, sparkling blue, and they leave you without breath or thought. “Do it again, yeah?” You whine and nod - He should have fucked you earlier, he thinks. At the corner of his eyes, he sees his clock and grins, manically. He’ll make up for lost time, he has all night after all. With one sharp thrust, he gives you the rest of his inches and groans at the keening cry you give him. You have always belonged under him.

[themimsyborogove]

idk if ur still taking requests/ideas or not, but if so, do you think you could write a little something about Magnus taking in a young warlock and teaching them magic, like how Ragnor did all those years ago with him?

I’m sorry this took so long, anon. I hope you’re still around✨

——

Crickets chirped loudly from their hiding places, and a breeze blew across the crowded alley holding the Kyoto Shadow Market, raining bright fall leaves onto the stalls. Magnus generally preferred to come to Kyoto in spring time, when it was the cherry blossoms shedding their petals like a warm pink blizzard, but fall certainly had its charms as well.

He stopped to examine a stall selling fruit and flowers gathered from the parts of Faerie more easily accessed from gateways in Japan, and harder to find in New York. He was contemplating the flowers, trying to determine which he might need for potions in the near future, when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Magnus grabbed the hand before it could reach out and snatch one of the fruits. “I wouldn’t do that,” he murmured, soft enough that only the would-be-thief could hear. “Stolen faerie food isn’t safe to eat.”

“Let go of me, asshole!” the girl he had grabbed said in the kind of stilted English that had likely never been used outside of a classroom full of kids giggling over swear words they had learned to fluster the teacher. She was wearing a school uniform track suit with a huge scarf wound around her neck.

Magnus steered the girl away from the faerie stall before she could draw more attention to herself.

“Is this your first time in a Shadow Market,” he asked, switching to Japanese.

The girl looked relieved and stopped trying to struggle out of his grip. “I didn’t know where to go. I saw lights I had never seen before, and I followed them here.” Her free hand reached up to touch the scarf around her neck, bulkier than the material should have been, and Magnus had an inkling of what the answers to the rest of his questions were going to be.

They had broken out of the thickest part of the crowd, and Magnus spotted a stall selling noodles, the stools around the bar-like table shielded by a half curtain.

The girl watched him warily as he ordered two bowls of noodles and gestured for her to sit down. “I don’t have any money,” she said.

“I know,” Magnus replied. “It’s obvious that you’ve never tried to steal anything before. If you’d had money, you would have used it. Sit down, you must be hungry.”

The girl sat and looked between her bowl of noodles, topped with a thin slice of fried tofu, and the fox-like faerie who had served them to her. “Kitsune udon,” she muttered under her breath, with the air of someone still astonished to find out how much of their folklore was based on truth. “I never thought about why it was called that.”

“Do you have a name?” Magnus asked. She might not yet, depending on how long it had been since she found out what she was. Magnus hadn’t for a long time in the gap between the normal child he thought he had been and the person he had found himself to be.

“Aoi,” the girl mumbled, swallowing a mouthful of soup. She ate slowly, Magnus noticed, taking a long time between one bite of food and the next. He also noticed that she hadn’t removed her scarf, despite the warmth of the noodle stall.

“I’m going to make a guess, and I want you to tell me how close I am,” Magnus said. “Something about you changed suddenly, and frightened you so badly, you ran away. Kyoto is filled with foxfire lights, which you were suddenly able to see. You followed them here and found yourself surrounded by all manor of things you thought only existed in stories.”

Aoi nodded, something about the movement awkward and uncoordinated. “I turned into a monster,” she whispered.

“Not a monster,” Magnus said gently. “A warlock, a magic user, like I am. Warlocks bear marks showing what they are,” he gestured at his own cat eyes, “but sometimes the marks and the ability to use magic don’t come until a child is older.” Aoi look like she was thirteen or fourteen. Old for a warlock mark to manifest, but not unheard of.

“It was my school trip. Everything was normal, and then suddenly it wasn’t,” she said. “They all screamed when they saw me,” she added in a strained whisper.

“No one here will scream,” Magnus said.

Aoi unwound her scarf, revealing an elongated neck, coiled around itself like a snake, that she had done her best to hide under the fabric. She watched Magnus warily, like she still expected him to scream and run for the hills. When he didn’t, she relaxed a little.

“How did this happen to me?” she asked.

Magnus sighed. “Warlocks are children of humans and demons. The demonic blood is what marks us and gives us the ability to use magic, but it doesn’t make us monstrous or evil. No more than any other person at least. Some demons can shapeshift. It’s likely your mother never knew what had happened.”

Aoi scrubbed a hand over her eyes, wiping away the tears before they could fall. “I can’t ever go home.”

“Do you know that for sure?” Magnus said gently. “You said your warlock mark appeared during a school trip. There’s a chance your family will still welcome you home.” It happened, sometimes, to warlocks who were lucky.

“Did your family welcome you?”

“No,” Magnus said. “But I have friends who grew up loved, despite what they are. The choice is yours. If you want to return home, I’ll go with you and help explain your situation. If you would rather stay here, I’ll teach you how to navigate the Market and how to glamor yourself so normal humans won’t notice your warlock mark.”

“I want my mom,” Aoi said in the kind of small plaintive voice that made her sound very, very young.

Magnus waved his hands, a Portal forming right inside the curtain of the stall. The kitsune behind the counter glared at him. Most Downworlders considered it rude to open Portals in the middle of the Market. Magnus ignored him and stood up.

“Then let’s go and hope for the best,” Magnus said. “Think of home and this will take us straight there.”

Aoi’s eyes went wide with awe. She looked down at her own hands. “Will I be able to do this kind of magic?”

“With enough time and training,” Magnus said. “Being a warlock isn’t all bad,” he added with a wink. “Now think about home.”

Aoi wound her scarf back around her coiled neck, took a deep breath, and led the way through the Portal.

[ink-dusted-dreams]

An Analysis of Tomoe and Kenshin’s Relationship Part 1

16 years ago when I was just 12, I watched Rurouni Kenshin with its action-filled scenes, which intrigued me. However, it was not until a year later when I read the manga, that I truly fell for the relationship between Kenshin and Tomoe. As someone who never had a great interest in romance stories, that love story inspired me to fall in love and left me questioning how real love could be. Yet, I was left feeling disappointed as the intricacies of this extraordinary love was never fully explored.

The spiritual, transcendental connection between the two characters was so powerful and poetic that it stayed with me ever since, stirring up feelings of both pain and joy. While I am grateful for the story, I cannot help but to think that with a different writer and Seinen genre, justice could have been done in truly reflecting the complexity of such transcendental love between two characters in the Bakumatsu period and Boshin Sensō.

On the other hand, the OVA was a heart-wrenching masterpiece; the artful quality of each frame was eerie, poignant and touched me deeply.

Going beyond the surface, this analysis delves into the depths of Kenshin's feelings for Tomoe, exploring her role in his life and how the manga portrays their dynamic.

The sorrow that consumed Kenshin after Tomoe's death was overwhelming, a sensation he simply could not shake. One can only imagine, in the depths of his despair, was he also filled with a fury that she had chosen such a tragic ending?

Kenshin had spent more than a decade facing the repercussions of his past, unable to accept the finality of life and his beloved Tomoe in death. Only after the end of his Kyoto epilogue, ten long years later, had he finally found the courage to confront his grief and pay homage to her grave.

As the chapters progress, Kenshin finally locked eyes with the now-grown Enishi, a vision of the beloved Tomoe appeared before him. He let out an anguished cry, as if desperately trying to reach her.

Kenshin is a seasoned killer, yet after finding out Enishi was seeking vengeance, he cannot withstand the onslaught of Tomoe's visions. Even after ten years, her trauma remains buried in his heart, an ache so deep it's all-consuming.

As pages turn, we learn that Kenshin's scar starts with a story of pain and injustice. It's a tale of unfulfilled love, of a man named Kiyosato Akira, denied his most basic desire, a simple wish to be with the woman he loved, who also loved him back. He was a helpless figure in the midst of a deadly and fanatical revolution, and his life was taken in an instant, and all that remained of him was a single scar upon the face of his murderer. A scar born of anguish, injustice, and unfulfilled desires.

Kenshin had only been a young teenager when he was full of idealistic naïveté and dreams of making a change, no matter the cost. But by the time he encountered Tomoe, Kenshin had already taken the lives of over hundred people, leaving psychological scars that would haunt him; a chill of violence that even the Sake tasted like blood on his tongue - perhaps a sign of post-traumatic stress disorder.

Kenshin and Tomoe's initial encounter was an enthralling visual of windswept emotions and tragedies that seemed to have been embedded in a Kabuki play. Tomoe began by saying, “They always say at tragic scenes, a rain of blood falls... but you really made it.. rain blood..” Her cryptic comment portrayed a sense of cynicism. Despite being in the midst of such violence and chaos, her composed expression betrayed neither surprise nor fear.

These apt words may have been derived from Yudono no Chôbê, Kiwametsuki Banzui Chôbê, a kabuki play that dates back to 1881 (although that is slightly later than when the manga takes place). The story connotes the phrase “Chi no ame wo furasu” (Make it rain blood) which translates to “creating casualties with sword.” It indeed painted a vivid picture of sorrow and desolation which Tomoe was able to express with incredible poignancy.

Kenshin was determined to keep the powerful, honorable legacy of Battousai under wraps. Yet, when Tomoe stumbled across his slaying, the first thought that should have occurred to him -- yet tragically failed to -- was how to rid her of the knowledge. But as their fateful encounter unfolded, his other senses were suddenly assailed; the sweet aroma of her white plum perfume eclipsing the staining smell of blood, that seemed to remain present everywhere and followed him. I thought it was at that moment that Kenshin would have felt a spark of attraction toward Tomoe.

In Chapter 168 of the manga, Kenshin is forced to confront the impossible moral dilemma, posed to him by Tomoe: "So, bad people carry swords and good people don't? If I had been carrying a sword that night, would you have killed me?" Kenshin tries desperately to defend his beliefs, to explain the nuances of his sense of morality, that he only kills those who do violence to others. But in the face of her piercing question, he is left struggling to find the answer.

Amidst all the chaos, it was made starkly clear: the Kenshin, who typically disinterestedly refuses to engage in anything personal, was curiously transfixed with her, a notion that would have been otherwise unimaginable to his famed persona, the renowned Battousai. He was consumed by a youthful fascination with her, though seemingly unaware of its implications.

Tomoe gazed upon a sleeping Kenshin, whom she had called the vanguard of mad justice, and was taken aback by how young he really was. As soon as he sensed her presence, he instinctively drew his katana, ready to strike--- although it stood in stark contrast to his adamant belief that he would never kill an innocent.

Tomoe, unruffled by that sudden action, asked him to “let her be his sheath”, restraining his mad justice, while simultaneously reminding Kenshin of the question he put to her the previous chapter--- whether he would have killed her had he possessed the sword.

Hesitantly yet intensely, Kenshin replied that he would never be able to do such a thing, not to her. It almost felt like an unconscious confession--- for neither one of them were aware of whether the other was a friend or an enemy at that point.

It was perhaps at that moment when unexpected vulnerability was shown by the feared Battousai that Tomoe started to feel an irresistible compassion, perhaps even attraction towards him.

In Chapter 170, Kenshin, ever the vigilant sentinel, finds himself lulled into a sense of security he rarely experiences - so much so that he doesn't even rouse at the sound of Iizuka opening the door. Perhaps he finds peace just from Tomoe's presence, a demonstration of how much he has welcomed her into his life and learned to trust her.

The triumphant return of the Shinsengumi was not without consequence. The Chōshū Isshin Shishi had been raided, leaving a cloud of uncertainty and insecurity in its wake. Knowing this, Katsura Kogoro strongly urged Kenshin to go in hiding with Tomoe, for a young couple would have an easier time evading suspicion than a lone man.

But it was in the face of this peril that Kenshin suddenly declared his love for Tomoe and asked her to be his wife until death did them part. The gravity of the situation, the revolutionary forces at work and ever-looming danger of death gave this newfound romance an air of irrevocable finality. They smiled at each other in a sea of turmoil, perhaps aware of the magnetism drawing them ever closer, the snowballing affection as though the path of their future had already been decided.

In chapter 172, Iizuka was taken aback when he encountered Kenshin at the hideout, surrounded by reports of bloodshed and disarray in the city. What struck him even more was that despite the chaos, Kenshin was calm and content. Iizuka was left to ponder what eluded peace could possibly be in Kenshin's life - and the answer came soon enough - that Kenshin found solace in five months surrounded by Tomoe; in a life devoid of violence, where he could practice his beloved Kenjutsu without the worry of taking a life.

As the chapter progressed, Tomoe was in her usual melancholic state, while something radically different was present in Kenshin. A happiness like he had never experienced before shone from his now unguarded, beaming face. The past five months of living with Tomoe had taught him what his life was meant for - happiness.

We also witness Kenshin relinquish all apprehension and wariness, exposing his personal life to Tomoe -- the adversities from his infancy as a famine-stricken orphan that took the lives of his family. His suffered untold hardships throughout the voyage of his life.

For Tomoe however, the wall of sadness still remained, however palpable Kenshin's happiness had become.

In the next chapter, as Kenshin encounters Enishi visiting his sister, suspicions naturally arise. Izuka, Katsura, and Tomoe are the only individuals who would have the knowledge of the place. But rather than pass judgement, Kenshin places his faith and full trust in Tomoe. Conjoined with the newfound realization of his being unaware of Tomoe having a brother, Kenshin begins to understand his limited understanding of her.