#angelic healing technique

[feminiel]

I have seen a lot of repetitive angel numbers in my life, each appearing in its own time and fulfilling a need for me to understand something: 1111, 111, 222, 333, 444, 4444, 555, 666, 777, 2222, 7777, 177, 117 and 77. However, there is one special and unique repetitive angel number that stands out the most for me and delivers significant and meaningful energy on my journey: the number 144. I feel like the angel number 144 awakens my intuition every time I see it, and it guides me in a way that feels divine. I feel excited every time I learn one of its messages, and each time I feel I am getting closer to its purpose on my journey and path. The messages and/or guidance for me so far associated with the angel number 144 are:

I am a lightworker: I understood this by reading an article about the prophecy of the 144,000 lightworkers. For me, it was a significant confirmation from my Angels that I am a lightworker. I was not sure at the time, I was still questioning myself, but when I started researching the angel number 144 and found the article above, it was a big yes from my Angels and from the Divine that I am a lightworker meant to bring something important through the fulfillment of a specific soul mission of my own.

To receive help from my Angels through someone who is able to communicate with them: During a difficult time, I was guided to get an Angel reading. When I saw that the price of the reading was $144, I felt in my bones that I needed to get this one. I knew it was a sign for me. The reading was helpful, and I was amazed by how the Angels communicated their messages and guidance in a way that made sense only to me. I listened to it last year (4 years after purchasing it) because I felt called to listen to it again, and I was even more in awe of how this reading was meant to be.

A sign from Lady Seraphina that made my connection with the Divine feminine even more dominant: Who is Lady Seraphina? In her book, Claire Stone describes her as 'the mother of all feminine archetypes.' The book mentioned is 'The Female Archangels: Reclaim Your Power with the Lost Teachings of the Divine Feminine.' According to her book, the number 144 is one of her calling cards! This was a message for me that divine feminine energy is highly significant on my path, and that Lady Seraphina is helping me with what I need for the development of divine feminine energy. I believe she's also helping me heal my feminine and masculine energies so I can intuitively understand how these two energies work in union.

An energetic purpose: In the same book, it is said that there are 144 nadis in the human body. Nadis are energetic channels through which energy (life force) flows in the body. What's interesting is that my healing journey started when I felt guided to learn about the chakras, our energy centers in the body. Later, I felt guided to learn and practice emotional freedom technique, an energy healing work for my emotional wounds. I have always felt drawn to learn how energy works. I feel there is something significant about my energy path that I have taken. I don't know yet what it is specifically, but I do feel intuitively that energy is a key component and has a higher purpose in the big picture. Also, seeing that the number 144 is correlated with the energetic system of the body makes me feel that I'm on the right track when it comes to my energy work and learning.

Feeling guided to have an oracle card deck: I have always felt drawn to have an oracle card deck. I felt like it would help me build more connection with my Angels and Spirit team, even though I wasn't sure how to read cards. The deck I felt drawn to pick has an astrological theme, and the accompanying book has 144 pages! It felt like another full yes and sign from my Angels and Guides! Using the deck and the book provided me with the messages I needed at the right time. I also discovered more about myself while trying to interpret the cards and reading the book!

Support, self-discovery and direction about some of my unique talents and gifts that I may posses for fulfilling my life purpose: I recently discover a minor aspect in astrology, the bi-quintile. It's an angle of . . . 144 degrees!! This minor aspect talks about the energy of our unique and special talents, skills, or gifts that we may possess! When I went to do some research on my 144 degrees aspects of my astral chart, I was speechless and felt excited like I have never been with the number 144!! Again, I feel like 144 is really guiding me to discover who I am and giving me huge clues and direction on the path meant to guide me to realize and actualize myself. I feel like 144 is guiding me also to discover my gifts and talents. Actually, my whole healing journey was also about discovering my gifts, talents and purpose! It's about discovering my true self and giving it to the world. 144 is guiding me to find my true self and soul purpose piece by piece. It is all coming together.

[phoenixcatch7]

Nearly at the end of bayonetta and honestly whoever green lit that missile/Jeanne final fight chapter -

[hypnotherapylosangelesca]

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[augustinewrites]

“what’s on these?” megumi asks, holding up a box of memory cards.

cleaning day always unearthed all types of lost and forgotten items. sometimes it was clothes long forgotten in you and gojo’s closet, other times it was the kid’s old books or toys. you knew every inch of your little apartment, so most times you could identify any mystery items that came up.

“i don’t know,” you hum, plucking a card from the box to inspect it a little more closely. the only hint as to what’s actually on it seems to just be a date.

2006

…and it’s in gojo’s handwriting.

curious, you pop one into the video player and turn on the tv. the kids join you on the couch, clearly eager to entertain any distraction from your cleaning crusade.

when the screen flickers to life, a familiar courtyard comes into view.

you can’t help the gasp when haibara comes into focus…but then you see satoru standing standing across from him, arms spread out.

“who is that?” megumi asks, pointing at haibara.

you think of the bright smile of the boy still lingering in the edges of your memory and tell him, softly, “an old friend.”

“suguru!” gojo shouts, looking towards the person holding the camera. he’s all messy hair and wide smiles, exactly how you remember him in his youth. “make sure you get this one!”

geto grumbles about how he’s paying attention, and suddenly you remember exactly what this is.

“ah, these are from when yaga would make us record ourselves practicing cursed technique application,” you explain as a haibara lines up a shot with a pencil.

the pencil hits gojo in the face, gifting him a small cut on his cheek. “ah, shit!”

behind the camera you can hear nanami and geto laughing as haibara apologizes profusely, and shoko comes over to practice her healing. you come over too, holding a cloth.

“don’t pout,” your younger self says, reaching up to wipe a thin trail of blood from his cheek. “you’ll get it next time.”

as soon you turn away, you hear geto snicker and the camera suddenly zooms in on gojo’s face.

he’s blushing.

“ugh,” you hear him groan behind the three of you, finally finished cleaning the bathroom. “are we done cleaning yet?”

“we’re taking a break!” tsumiki tells him, as megumi pops another card in.

gojo ignores megumi’s protests, stealing the spot on the couch next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a smirk. “move your feet, lose your seat.”

tsumiki, angel that she is, moves over so her brother can sit on your other side as the video starts.

this time, gojo is the one recording, holding the camera out so it’s pointed at his own smiling face. “haibara versus nanami, round one!”

you feel your boyfriend stiffen beside you, looking over to see an odd look on his face. “oh, fuck—”

“jar,” megumi says flatly.

he glares at the kid, and is about to get up when you stop him. “wait! i want to watch this!”

he slumps back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he groans dramatically. ignoring him, you watch the fight play out, which ends with haibara whining whilst in a headlock.

you hear geto’s murmured commentary off camera as nanami releases his classmate, expecting the video to zoom in on the victor.

but it drifts a little to the left, where you’re laughing with shoko on the sidelines.

“so obvious,” geto scoffs. the video wobbles for a moment before being pointed directly at the tips of satoru’s shoes, then ends abruptly.

when you glance over at satoru, he’s pulled his sunglasses over his eyes as if they can hide his pink cheeks.

the next videos are similar. memories of your past viewed through a different lens, showing you things you’d never picked up on when you were living them.

some moments you watch with an aching heart. like when suguru leans close to you and makes a joke at satoru’s expense, or when you reach up to ruffle haibara’s hair.

(moments with cherished friends proving that the grief of losing them never got any lighter as you moved forward with your life, but at some point you’d just gotten used to carrying the weight.)

but what might be most interesting is seeing yourself in satoru’s eyes.

his focus, whether he was the one holding the camera or not, always seemed to drift to you. for all the times he’d denied crushing on you in your early years, the camera proves otherwise.

the way he peeks at you shyly as you fix your hair before a fight.

the way he reaches out instinctively whenever you’re knocked backwards.

the way he smiles brightly whenever you laugh at one of his jokes.

the way your gaze would occasionally meet his, and his smile seemed to come naturally.

“okay, that’s enough for tonight,” satoru announces, shutting the tv off and shooing the children away. “go clean your rooms, you freeloaders.”

you stand, looping your arms around his neck before he can run away. smiling, you gently pull his glasses off, tossing them onto the couch.

“hey! those are gucci—”

you shut him up with a kiss, feeling the way his lips curve upwards against yours. “i love you, you know that?”

blue eyes meet yours, the pensive look he’d been wearing melting into something a little softer. something reserved for you. “you’re obsessed with me, i know.”

you simply laugh, letting him dip down to give you another kiss.

(because you’d had his heart in your pocket long before either of you had realized.)

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hi i love your writings smm 🥺😩💞💞and i was wondering if you can write something for shy quiet , innocent fem reader whos like Literally an angel and very kind who haves healing techniques and also yuji's distant cousin with sukuna ?

A/N: I'm not the best at Sukuna, but here's a try! I kinda wanted to try to write him simped.

His predatory eyes have been on you for a while now.

Initially, it’s barely a development for Sukuna to learn that the vessel he’s stuck in has a cousin. It’s a distant relationship, separated by a couple of centuries, but it’s there. It isn’t a mark for concern until he sees your powers. Healing others isn’t special, but bringing back a missing limb, fixing a soul, the chance you could bring a body back, that’s more interesting.

“I didn’t manipulate their soul. The shape was wrong, so I gave it enough that it could put itself back to the way it wanted to be, and it worked out!”

You didn’t seem to really realize the extent of your own power, chirpily going on with life like a colorful bouncing baby bird from what he could tell. And as his interest in your technique starts to grow, it leads to something else he can’t explain.

Sukuna blames this body that he’s in for the reason his attention always sparks up whenever he hears your voice echoing in this body. Whenever Itadori interacts with you, there’s a torrent of happiness proliferating throughout his entire body, including to where Sukuna’s soul maintains itself. That’s where he decides this interest in you comes from.

That’s where the deliciously darkly satisfied sensation upon seeing fluster spread across your face whenever he decides to interrupt you and Itadori comes from. The way you squeak and shy into yourself, resisting that urge to tremble at his presence – which he can still make out – is mouthwateringly delectable. Sukuna presumed this was an easy way to piss off the other soul in this body, but that isn’t the case.

There’s a rush of something indecipherable when that innocent smile appears on your cherub face. The faintest hint of life threatens to lurch into his chest when you place a hand on this boy’s shoulder, sending that heat all the way down to him.

It irritates him because those actions aren’t caused by him but by the brat whose body he inhabits. It irritates him because he shouldn’t be thinking about these things in the first place. Desiring them. Desiring you. Never having the time to remember what this type of desire was in the first place.

At least not until now.

This body is failing, puddling with its own blood from the loss against a pitiful opponent.

Maybe Itadori should have brought you with him after all instead of leaving you behind at the mission start. Sukuna is already aware of the reason. His “precious little cousin” is the only family he has left after all, by his own miserable words.

(“How pathetic. You think you can’t protect her.”)

The brat was right to leave you behind if he died that easily.

“Uh, Sukuna?”

The King of Curses lifts his head; there’s cursed energy and light flooding this body, barely enough that his own soul clings on.

“Are you still…” a small cough, “in there?”

Sukuna wastes little time cracking an eye open. It’s a worth sight to see. Your cheeks are wet with the beginning of tears, a meek and scared gloss to your eyes when you notice him leering up at you from his head’s position in your lap, and your chest pumped up with a shaky gasp that makes him smirk.

“Isn’t this a surprise? Called on by the little lamb herself.”

Just like the name suggests, you tense and frightened like the fragile creature, a fear so palpable that he can smell it wafting in the air.

“Since this is such a rare occassion, I'll give you three seconds of my time. What do you want?"

Fearfully, you struggle to ask, “You can heal people, can’t you?”

Sukuna isn’t sure why you would ask that when you’re classified as a healer yourself. He’s positive the only reason he’s still here is due to your influence then it dawns on him.

“What’s the matter?” he cackles. “Not enough curse energy left to finish the job?”

When you fail to respond, he knows he’s got it right, and his brain already begins to turn with how many ways he could take advantage of the situation when you finally nod.

“What would I need to do for you to help me heal him?”

“You dare try to bargain with me.” His tone is brusque, pure intimidation mixed with amusement. “What could you possibly have to offer me that’s better than watching this punk sorcerer die?”

You’re as much of a fool as the boy, he thinks. The difference though is that unlike him, there’s more that the King of Curses wants from you: your power, your body, your soul, and the innocence comprising it and displaying in the doe-eyed look that you give him as you gently bite on your bottom lip.

“Please,” you shakily air out, tears spilling out in the weakness of your voice, “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“You.”

“Me?” you ask. There’s a moment of hesitation as your eyebrows knit together. “I-I don’t understand. Why me?” you question; there’s an air of confusion about the question, brewed from the innocent nature that can’t even begin to think what you would have that could benefit him.

“Do you want the deal or not?” he asks, patience artificially short. You’re hesitant, unsure what to say as you stare at him. “I’m not going to keep the offer up for long, woman.”

Slowly, the fear starts to drain from you, which causes him to go silent as your fingers brush your fingers along Itadori’s forehead, pushing the messy blood-soaked tufts of hair away. Your eyes waver, flooding with another layer of tears that collect on your eyelashes, but you quickly blink them away.

“I accept,” you finally relent, a forced smile stretching across your face; a fragile attempt to offer him, or rather yourself, a little optimism and sweetness that sends a lustful pulse down his stomach. “I’m yours.”

There it was, easier than he ever imagined, and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the irony. This boy’s decision to protect you would be the very thing leading you to him.

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 7: TOO YOUNG TO GROW WINGS

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, face sitting, blowjobs, cum eating (lol) lots and LOTS of angst, gore, blood, graphic descriptions of injuries, bullying, satoru being......... himself

ੈ✩ wc: 8.8k

ੈ✩ a/n: i wasnt gonna post this but then i was like well. i start a new job on monday so who knows if i'll be able to keep up the weekly update thing. this is also prob my fav chapter so i couldn't hold back OOPS enjoy the yaoi btw <3 title from angel by omar apollo

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

April, 2009

Jujutsu Technical College looks lovely in the springtime—the golden light hits the room in a specific way that makes your body warm. You’re calm, nearly dozing off until three people barge into the classroom, taking up as much space as they can. When you open your eyes, you see Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko smiling at you as they take their seats.

The boys had convinced you to attend (with the help of Shoko) after informing you there was a generous stipend included with your education. Despite the scholarship you’d gotten from the college you’d meant to attend, they had easily persuaded you. You hadn’t had friends you were so close with before, after all.

“Suguru. Switch with her.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it. I want her to sit next to me.”

You lift your head, realizing that Satoru is talking about you. Suguru laughs nonchalantly and stands up to switch with you, and you move to replace him when you notice Satoru’s baby blues searing into your skin. He grins at you brightly as you roll your eyes.

It’s been like this for weeks – Satoru possessing you, claiming you, even though you never ask for it. Truthfully, it pools your stomach with ardor. You’ve never felt as wanted as you do when you were within a close radius of him. 

It dwindles eventually when you realize that the boys’ strength is so far beyond yours. In combat, they’re flawless, beautiful in their movements as they spar. You’re happier to watch than join—Shoko thinks the same, often rolling her eyes every time the two of you are assigned to practice hauling cursed energy for the sake of fighting. It’s nice when you can get her alone, studying healing techniques and watching her reversed curse technique grow.

Sometimes, you don’t even know why you’re here. Shoko is talented and you aren’t. You’re useful enough for superficial wounds, but you can’t do a reversed cursed technique. You doubt you could even heal something of a higher caliber than what you’re used to. You fear the prospect of this revelation on a mission that you know Yaga will eventually send you on. 

“Do they ever fight over you?” Shoko asks over a cigarette.

“Wh-what?”

“You know,” she drawls, smiling. “Satoru’s such a brat. Suguru is more open when you’re around. They’ve gotta be possessive, right?”

You shrug. You don’t know the extent of what she knows, but you can assume from the boys’ behavior that it was written all over their faces. Satoru’s hand on your waist, Suguru’s point to tower over you. Unspoken proximity wars between them with you in the middle. 

“I don’t know about that. They’re overprotective for sure,” you admit, taking a slow drag of her cigarette when she offers. 

“Twigs! Not you, too!” Satoru bellows. “Don’t give my girl your cancer sticks, Ieiri!”

Shoko laughs at that, grinning with the cigarette in between her teeth as you fold your hands into your lap.

My girl.

Satoru hovers over you and holds out his hands. Curiously, you take it, which you regret immediately when he pulls your body and hauls you over his shoulder. You thrash a bit as he laughs until you’re stumbling onto the grass. When Suguru throws a staff in your direction, you catch it reflexively. 

“Ready?” 

You roll your eyes. You’d gotten better at sparring, though you still choose to hang back and concern yourself with areas of Shoko’s expertise. She had become a mentor to you despite being a peer. Meanwhile, the boys had been trying to get you to practice combat, thinking you would do well with a cursed weapon.

You remember the first time you had tried to fight, watching Satoru and Suguru wrestle in the grass shortly after. Their raspy grunts, the skin of their waists underneath ridden-up shirts. The memory makes you flush.

“Yes,” you sigh.

You focus on Satoru’s eyes, saturated like a lightning strike. You were rather well-versed in the language of his body – you think that your intuition often matched Satoru’s rather equally. He was still much taller and larger than you, but you exceeded in your efforts to dodge. He didn’t often bother with hand-to-hand combat much anyway, much more focused on perfecting his inherent techniques.

You gasp when he decides to close the distance between you. The touch of his fingers on your skin is a jolt to the senses as his legs sweep you when you’re too occupied with dodging. You hit the ground with a thud, groaning.

“Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, leaning down to take your hand. When he does, you pull him backward so that he tumbles.

“Hey!”

“Payback,” you shrug. You maintain a fighting stance once again, staff in hand. 

Suguru often took you more seriously, offering to teach you martial arts when Satoru was off on solo missions. You breathe heavily as Satoru takes his first swing, which you dodge by a hair. 

Focused, you move with the grace of a ballet dancer, halting his movements with your staff the way Suguru had taught you. When you kick a leg high in the air, Satoru catches you by the ankle just for you to fall again. This time, you’re sure you’re bruised. 

“There’s still time for you to give up,” he teases. 

You groan in irritation, rising to your feet and walking closer to him. He smiles, enjoying seeing you pissed off and breathing so hard. He’s so wrapped up in looking at you that his senses are hit with whiplash – your fist gets through his Infinity easily and socks him square on the jaw.

“You little–”

“Why didn’t you have your Infinity on?” you exasperate, but he’s already pushing you to the ground and struggling with you the way you used to when you were children.

“I’m soooo gonna get you for that–”

You end up kicking him again, this time in the ribs as he groans. When you pin his wrists above his head, he merely stares at you with wild eyes and heaving breaths. His face is red and cherubic, and when he squirms, you squeeze his waist in between your thighs.

You lean down close to his face, your breath tickling his ear.

“I win,” you whisper. You flick him on the forehead and he flinches. You wonder again why he’s letting you touch him like this. 

“Letting you pin me down isn’t me letting you win, sweetheart,” he rasps lowly, only for you to hear. He rolls his hips slightly and it makes your eyes widen, much to his satisfaction. You frown and crawl away from him just in time to hear Shoko beckoning you.

“Lab time!” she calls after you. Without a second look at Satoru, you follow her inside.

Satoru is lying on Suguru’s stomach, frowning because it isn’t as soft as yours. 

He’s also without entertainment since Suguru has been hogging his DS for the better part of an hour, which Satoru had only let him do because he claimed he wanted to take a nap. But, as per usual, he can’t sleep. He’s still roused from sparring with you, slightly sweaty still from the warmth and the mustiness of the dorm room, and his cock is getting hard again just from thinking about you on top of him. 

“Fuck,” Suguru swears under his breath, caught up in a game of Pokemon Emerald.

Satoru lifts his head to scoot his body higher, chin resting on Suguru’s forearm to peek at his progress. 

“You’re doing terribly.”

“I know that, thanks,” Suguru groans. “I have like, two backup Pokemon left and they’re both level 30.”

“Do you use the same technique with your curses?” Satoru teases. Suguru makes another agitated noise again in response.

“You should’ve brought your Game Cube from home.”

Satoru shrugs, sighing as he sits up. He snatches his DS out of Suguru’s hands, interrupting the boy’s protest with a wet kiss to the mouth. Suguru kisses back immediately, tongue peeking into Satoru’s mouth before he pulls away.

“You haven’t kissed me in months,” he chuckles. Satoru shrugs. 

“Maybe you haven’t kissed me in months.”

“I would’ve thought you’d count it as cheating.”

Satoru is quiet for a moment, rubbing Suguru’s jawline with his fingers gently. He’s been rather gluttonous lately, and he thinks Suguru is starting to catch on. He’s been clingier to the both of you, obnoxiously so, acting more of a nuisance to you specifically for the sake of attention. His heart is aflame whenever he sees you interact with Suguru in ways that are both good and bad, but he doesn’t prefer to dwell on it for very long before he nearly forces you to give him attention.

“Having withdrawals?”

“Huh?”

“She’ll be back soon,” Suguru laughs cruelly. “Whenever she’s gone for a bit, you act like you’re fucking dying.”

“No, I don’t,” Satoru frowns. But he knows he’s lying.

“Don’t mope. C’mere.”

Suguru sighs, seemingly out of pity. He grabs Satoru by the face and sticks his tongue in his mouth – a rough kiss out of spite, out of unbridled passion. He’d dreamt about Satoru and you for weeks, always sneaking glances. 

He’d considered taking both of you months before when you and Satoru and Shoko threw him an impromptu surprise birthday party despite his refusal. He had seen you tipsy, squirming in Satoru’s lap while Utahime set up karaoke on the television, and decided he’d let you come to him when you wanted to. You were still a shy thing even after New Year’s, never asking again for his touch.

Satoru groans, palming his dick over his slacks as he leans back. He could feel his cock leaking in his boxers already just from the roughness of Suguru’s knuckles grazing his skin. There was a manic buzz in his head, thrilled by the slight power imbalance he was allowing. 

Suguru hadn’t touched him since before he started seeing you, and even then, it was mostly rudimentary teenage lust. Jerking off to magazines together. Seeing how much they could take in their mouths before gagging like it was a competition.

“Fuck,” Satoru grunts, feeling Suguru’s tongue on his clavicle.

“You thinking about her?”

“Yeah,” he rasps.

Suguru chuckles darkly, biting harder at the bone. “She was so hot today. I taught her those moves, y’know.”

Satoru makes a mumbled nose, eyes fluttering shut as Suguru palms him. He unbuttons his slacks to reveal the snowy trail of hair above his pubic bone, Satoru’s cock flushed and weeping as Suguru holds it. 

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Use your mouth,” Satoru pants. He knots a fist in Suguru’s dark hair. “Want it like this.”

He hisses when he feels Suguru’s mouth. His jaw slackens at the feeling, gasping for air when Suguru hollows his cheeks to suck tightly. Satoru shoves him down further.

His body feels tight when Suguru motions a finger towards his hole, pausing to spit on his fingers beforehand. With two fingers stretching him open, Satoru pants and gasps. His thighs twitch, hips rolling upward into Suguru’s mouth like it was a cunt.

Your face flashes in Satoru’s mind and it makes his insides careen. Brain like pulped fruit. He opens his eyes to see Suguru’s, narrowed and golden and taunting. It’s similar to the way you look at him, sometimes.

The fist in Suguru’s hair tightens now, knuckles white. Satoru grunts brutishly, overwhelmed by the stimulation in his hole in tandem with Suguru’s tongue pressing on the underside of his cock. 

“Fuck, gonna cum–” 

Suguru moans, jaw aching only slightly. Satoru could feel his dick inside Suguru’s mouth, heat building up until he spills onto the boy’s tongue. His head falls back. Breathing like he’d just run a marathon.

“You need a better appetite. Shit tastes like battery acid.”

“Doesn’t all cum taste like that?” Satoru frowns. His hand is still in Suguru’s hair.

“You tell me.” Suguru kisses him, licking the inside of Satoru’s molars. His lips move against Satoru’s mouth slowly, listless so he can take himself. When he pulls away, Satoru wipes the slick off his mouth, plump and bitten.

“You’re exaggerating.”

May, 2009

The sky is oddly grey this afternoon despite the pleasant morning. Yamanashi prefecture is as beautiful as ever with cherry blossoms blooming, but as you approach the cursed site, you continue to feel a chill down your spine. 

It’s your first real mission. One that Yaga had at least approved you for after you had nailed your physical assessments, able to imbue enough cursed energy into a katana to swing around without slicing yourself. Still, you were meant to act as backup for Suguru, which Satoru hated. 

“Why don’t we just both go with her?” he had wailed to Yaga days before, to which Yaga grunted in dismissal. 

“You have a solo mission.”

“But–”

“That’ll be the end of it, Satoru.”

Admittedly, you do wish he was here. Suguru is a comforting presence, though, calmer in demeanor but much less talkative than what you’re used to. You walk with him through overgrown grass and lengthy vines. 

“What kind of curse are we supposed to find?” you question out loud. 

Suguru shrugs. “It’s difficult to tell exactly, but I’m assuming the cursed spirits roaming around here will be, er, women-shaped? Maybe. It should be Grade 2 at most."

“What do you mean, women? What happened here?”

“You don’t know? This place is super haunted.”

“So we’re ghost-hunting.”

“Ghost exorcising,” Suguru grins. “There used to be gold mines here in the 16th century owned by the Takeda Clan. They also ran brothels for the miners. After the Battle of Nagashino, the clan had to give up the land, but not before they killed all the prostitutes to keep them from spreading information about the gold mines.”

“H-how did they kill them?” 

“The miners had the women dance at a farewell party, then they hacked the vines that kept up the bridge they were on. They fell into the waterfall.”

“That’s horrible,” you frown. Foreboding swells in your chest. 

You can’t sense any cursed energy around you other than Suguru’s. You��re too busy ruminating to watch your step, accidentally tripping over a thick root. You fall forward into Suguru’s arms. 

“You okay?” he croons. His face is inches from yours and you forget how to breathe.

“Y-yes. Sorry.” As you untangle yourself from him, your body jolts. You gasp when you hear the hint of a wretched, bloodcurdling scream in the far distance that makes your blood run cold. It isn’t very loud, but it almost sounds muffled, like someone was screaming from another room.

“What? What is it?”

“Did you not hear that?” you whisper. 

Suguru frowns at you in confusion, his expression seemingly genuine. You blink, trying to shake off the horrible feeling in your body. 

“I think I just heard something. It sounded like a scream.”

Suguru waits, prompting you to elaborate. The forest seems darker now despite it being midday, the curl of the trees billowing in a way that feels uncanny. A girl-shaped forest. 

“Maybe we should split up.”

“Absolutely not,” Suguru protests, his mouth set in a firm line. You hold his hand in yours, stroking it gently with your thumb. 

“Suguru, you can’t expect to protect me the entire time. I need to learn how to handle things on my own–”

An inhuman gurgle rumbles from behind you. The curse looks similar to a reptile, yet human-like with webbed hands and sharp incisors slick with algae. The stench of mud is apparent in the air now. It drools green sludge before it bows.

You stand in shock, unsure of what to do as you lock eyes with Suguru. Warily, you draw your sword, and the curse’s eyes roll back in agitation as it lets out another gurgle. 

“Oh, shit–”

You dodge a projectile of slime, but it crawls towards you at a faster pace than you expect. A slice of your katana dismembers one of its arms, but it easily grows back. Within seconds, a giant curse rises from the ground and swallows it up, teeth mashing on gooey flesh in a way that makes you want to hurl. Suguru’s ringworm curse is dismissed once the riverbank is cleared.

“What was that about not needing me to protect you?” Suguru sneers.

“I still mean it,” you exasperate, heart hammering out of your chest. “You barely gave me time.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you have the next one, I swear.”

He smiles genuinely. Satoru must’ve gotten to him – he’s not nearly as neurotic as Satoru in that way, but he wouldn’t be able to stand it if you got hurt. It was less of a possessiveness thing and more of a selflessness thing. Suguru had always been the one to be reliable. He was also more perceptive than Satoru in the way that he could practically feel the tightness of the leash he held on you. 

If you were going to be something in the Jujutsu world, you wouldn’t be held back. Suguru thought you could be something ever since he saw you.

You continue to walk with him, knuckles brushing as the air turns thick. Suguru thinks that maybe you’re sulking in his periphery, so he pokes your cheek.

“Yes?”

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you mutter.

The katana feels heavy on your back. You had never thought of yourself as a particularly strong person, growing up to be obedient. A maid’s daughter. Hands a little rough from housework and the dirt of the Earth when you were wild, once. 

“Let me walk around in that little brain of yours,” Suguru murmurs, always charming.

You pause, swallowing. You realize you have never spoken your insecurities out loud. When you were on the brink of it, it would always be during petty arguments with Satoru, who had a way of shutting you down dismissively. He was always a bit of a control freak, even with you.

“Do you think I’m weak?” Your voice sounds almost frail.

“Of course not. I think you’re very talented, actually,” Suguru says. “Satoru and I– we just care a lot.”

“I’m not sure if talented would be the word. It’s not like he thinks so, either.”

“He does. He just doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”

There seems to be something lingering in his tone that gnaws at you. The way he sighs. You decide not to pry, attempting to steer the conversation away from Satoru altogether. 

You hear a wail again. Something in the shape of a girlish scream but only the echo of it. Suguru gives you that confused look at him and you aren’t sure if he’s just messing with you at this point. He touches your hand again and the motion makes you wince.

“What’s wrong?” He looks genuinely worried now as he looks at you, holding a hand to your jaw. That alone is mildly unnerving for some reason, even though you think that in any other environment, you’d welcome it. You place your hand over his palm.

“Do you really not hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That woman screaming!” you hiss. 

“Are you sure it isn’t some wild animal?”

You blink at him blankly.

“You don’t hear it.”

When he shakes his head, you hear it again. You begin to walk towards the source of it while Suguru stalks behind you, but you stop him. 

“Maybe I should handle this.”

He grimaces, clearly unhappy. You raise your brows, challenging him. Suguru wants to hold you back but he knows he shouldn’t. 

“Hey, another fucking– river monster could show up, and you’d be able to handle it. Maybe this is something that only I can see or hear. We’ll be too conspicuous with both of our cursed energy.”

He says your name with a hint of desperation and discipline, but you hold your gaze firmly. 

“Okay,” Suguru sighs. “But if anything goes wrong, just yell for me, okay?”

You nod. 

The tall grass tickles your legs as you move, which makes you thankful you decided to wear trousers instead of your usual skirt for the mission. Your hand grips the strap of your sword bag with anxiety. As you get closer, it’s as if the air is permeated with a smell that you can only describe as being in between sex and blood.

The scream you hear is louder now. You aren’t sure if it’s truly a hallucination, but it seems like the forest laughs back at you after. If you were a smarter person, perhaps you’d return to your partner. But you also assume that if you were to do that, you’d be a weaker person.

You walk over a wooden bridge that feels like it’s holding on by the barest thread. The creaking of the bridge beneath your weight adds to the unease that has settled in your gut. Every step forward feels like a gamble, a test of your bravery. The forest seems to close in around you, the trees whispering secrets you can't quite decipher. 

A scream rips through the air and this time, against your better judgment, you follow it.

It’s punctuated with sobs and whimpers, getting louder and louder as you walk along the path. Cursed energy flickers in the shape of a girl. When you get closer, you see her. 

A girl is sitting in a fetal position behind a tree, clutching her shoulder as she wails in agony. Her long black hair is matted and damp. She doesn’t seem to notice you yet, so you swiftly move to hide yourself between shrubbery to get a better look.

“P-p-please… help me…” she sobs. You choke up at the sight of her torn dress, hands and shoulder crimson with blood. She looks younger than you – no older than fifteen.

You grasp the strap of your sword bag tightly and cautiously as you walk towards her. Her eyes widen when she sees you. You aren’t sure if it’s a look of relief or fear.

“Hi there,” you say with a tremor in your voice. “What’s your name?”

“Akane,” the girl whimpers. Her face is pale with bruised lips.

“Akane. Are you lost? How did you get this injury?” You crouch down to meet her at eye level. 

“Th-there was a man… I was trying to run away from him… but I’m in t-too much pain to keep going,” she breathes. “Please help me.”

You furrow your brows. You’re surprised that there was anyone in this forest besides those grotesque cursed spirits considering how abandoned and desolate the place was. The girl must’ve run far. 

“Where are you from, Akane?”

“Tabayama.”

“That’s not too far from here,” you smile softly. “Let me heal you and my friend and I can get you back home, okay?”

You reach for her arm but she flinches and looks at you with unease. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “I’m a healer, see?”

Your cursed energy waxes and wanes within your palm like a luminous mist. You hover it over a superficial cut on your hand that you’d gotten from dealing with thorns earlier and the skin patches up like new. Akane watches in awe.

“I want to help you. Is it okay if I touch you?”

She nods her head apprehensively. You unwrap the saturated cloth from her shoulder, cringing at the sight of the gore and blood. You can’t quite envision the type of violence she’d just been through from the vagueness of her words, but you don’t want to make the poor girl explain in the midst of her trauma. 

It’s more effort than what you’re used to – the wound is so deep that you fear that you’ll overexert yourself. You’d spent enough time in the lab with Shoko to improve your technique, but this time, it seems as if everything you’re doing isn’t enough. The skin on the girl’s shoulder is healing very slowly, and when you think that her condition is improving, another area of her body seems to bleed out.

“Maybe I should get my friend to help. He could take us to a hospital.”

“He?”

You look up to see Akane’s eyes grow cold. Almost lifeless, as if she’s looking through you. You hear the visceral sound of a limb breaking, the squelch of her organs. It seems as though her face is transforming right in front of your eyes, but it feels like an illusion – the way her skin looks decayed, the way her teeth grow sharper. 

Akane – or what was Akane – cackles cruelly. Her cursed energy is overwhelming now, suffocating you. There’s a warbled cry that falls from her mouth.

“I’ll kill him.”

This is not a fucking Grade 2 curse.

You immediately get to your feet and swing your katana, but the curse blocks your attack easily. She’s also growing exponentially, no longer the size of a teenage girl and more like the river monster you’d seen earlier. She grabs you by the ankle, tripping you. A hack to the wrist with your katana makes the creature scream even more. You watch in horror as thick, black blood seeps out.

You yell Suguru’s name at the top of your lungs.

You see the Rainbow Dragon first, flying through the forest around you and the curse, but the nails on her other hand are strong enough to slice through the dragon’s hide. When you turn to lock eyes with Suguru, the curse lets out something in between a sob and a scream, shrill in your ears. 

It seems as though she forgets you entirely, running head-first towards Suguru. 

“I’ll… kill…. youuuuuuu!”

“No!” you screech, pulling her backward by the leg with all the strength you can muster. You slash the curse’s skin with your katana, making her wail, but she pins you down in retaliation with cuts to your arm from its sharp nails. 

You hiss at the pain. You notice that her hair has transformed into its own entity, tentacle-like and razor-sharp as it slices through one of Suguru’s hound-like curses. She directs her attention back at him and aims for his neck, but you hold down a bloody hand onto her back as your hand pulls one of her sharp hairs back. 

You cry out at the wound it makes in your hand, but your other stays pressed to the slimy flesh of her body. Your cursed energy ignites something unfamiliar in your body, something painful, but you imbue it into your touch with all you have. 

She’s screaming. Or maybe you are. You can’t tell anymore – your head is dulling from expending more cursed energy than you ever have. It’s all dissonant to you. A horrific cacophony. You feel blood drip from your nose. 

The curse’s flesh is rotting. As if the wounds she had when she appeared as a human were only rapidly progressing into decay, cells rupturing, body degenerating the harder you push. 

It’s like she turns to mush. The corpse of the curse is barely recognizable anymore, just a puddle of chunky purplish-black blood. 

You breathe heavily, looking up to see Suguru staring at you in shock. You try to give him a weak smile, but you don’t feel anything other than sick. Or maybe it’s numbness, at least for a few seconds as the forest is quiet again.

You double over and vomit. Your vision blacks out.

As a surprise to no one, Gojo Satoru is fucking livid. 

He’s about to open his mouth but stops himself when Suguru gives him a look of disdain. There’s no one to yell at, except maybe Yaga, because why the fuck would he put you on a mission that could potentially involve a Special Grade?

“She’s fine,” Suguru affirms. 

Satoru merely exhales through his nostrils, curling his hands into fists as he slumps down on the bench next to Suguru. He can’t help but envision your corpse, his brain reeling a horrific supercut of all the ways you could’ve been disfigured, maimed, bruised. Changed.

He realizes that the protectiveness over you he feels has turned into something ugly now that he knows you’re in the infirmary, something akin to fear, which is foreign to him. 

It sinks into him like teeth down to the marrow, parasitic. He thinks of a faceless curse that he wants to tear apart with his bare hands. Satoru had tried to get over the desire to keep you in a cage, to keep you so unbearably close to him out of his own selfishness, but the feeling came back. He doesn’t know where to keep it other than lodged in his chest like a bullet.

“Did you absorb it, Suguru? Because I might need you to summon it later so I can get my fucking hands on it myself,” Satoru says, his voice low and seething through gritted teeth.

“No,” Suguru sighs.

Satord nods dumbly. Silence ensues.

“She killed it herself.”

You have dreams while you’re passed out. The curse you killed transforms its face from its teenage girl form and into others. You see Shoko, Suguru, Satoru. Everyone you’ve ever known. And when the skin of its face starts to rot the same way it did when you used your technique on it, you end up staring at yourself. 

When you wake, it’s slow. The fluorescents in the infirmary don’t help. From outside of the room, you can hear hushed voices. 

When you attempt to lift your body off the bed, you see Shoko sleeping in a chair next to you. Your bones ache, your skin stinging with the ghost of a wound. The cut on your palm from being slashed by the curse is a scar now.

You drop your head again, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to rest more. It’s too fucking bright in this room. Your breathing stills when you hear the door creak open.

“For fuck’s sake,” a voice bristles. 

You hear another whispering Shoko’s name. Waking her, you assume.

“How is she doing?”

“She’s okay,” Shoko yawns. “Just sleeping. Her wounds were kind of deep, but I took care of it.”

A hand caresses your jaw gently, fingers stroking through your scalp. Your eyes blink open slowly to see Satoru grimacing above you. From the way the overhead light illuminates the back of his head, you think he almost looks like an angel. A makeshift halo shining on moonlit hair.

You notice the way he holds his fist tightly and the iciness of his gaze. It’s a fraction of rage, which makes you feel nauseous again. You’d seen that look on his face before, during the night of Shoko’s party. You wonder now, vaguely, what he looks like when he kills.

“Hey,” you mumble weakly.

“Hey,” he scoffs. “Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”

“Satoru, let her be–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt. You rise, wincing at the soreness of your muscles. “Um. I… killed the curse.”

“So I’ve been told,” Satoru deadpans. His jaw is tense, but his eyes soften. He looks up, flickering his gaze between Shoko and Suguru.

Shoko clears her throat. “She used her technique. The healing part of it is based on cell regeneration. Apparently, it can also be used… the opposite way. It must've been activated by adrenaline, and then it was too much. Passed out from exhaustion.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, our technique is like a muscle, right? And she didn’t use hers very rigorously until now, so…”

“Right,” Satoru sighs, his voice clipped.

“I need a smoke,” Shoko rasps. “Do you need anything, baby?”

You smile weakly, shaking your head. 

You can’t help but feel guilt snaking its way into your body. Even though you had exorcised a curse, your first actual achievement in Jujutsu sorcery, the bloodshed you’d experienced feels fruitless. You don’t feel very powerful at all, only monstrous. 

It’s difficult to gauge what Satoru is thinking. He’s clearly upset about the fact that you got hurt, but you wonder if there’s more. If he resents you pulling a stunt like that and nearly killing yourself in the process—because what would you be if not his? Are you still his with bloodstained hands? Would he like you better now that you could prove to be strong?

It didn’t matter. He would always be stronger. 

You hate the tension in the air. You can’t bear it. Maybe they’ll disperse once you get on your feet. There wasn’t anything left to do with your treatment since Shoko had tired herself with your wounds. 

When you swing a leg over the cot and attempt to sit up straight, an invisible wall stops you. You glare at Satoru holding his hand out, palm outstretched inches away from your chest.

“No,” he snaps.

“Don’t do that,” you grumble. “I’m fine.”

He laughs but there’s no amusement in his tone. His eyes are cold again. Pools of ice.

“Right. You’re in fucking pristine shape.”

“Satoru,” Suguru warns.

“I– I can walk–”

“No,” Satoru repeats. “You’re hurt. Stop it.”

You look between Satoru’s hard gaze and Suguru’s frown and roll your eyes. You’re so tired, and overwhelmed with pain that transcends the physical kind. You can’t even put a name to it, the amount of emotions spilling out of you as you look at the two of them with mild desperation. You want to sleep for another twelve hours.

Irritation flares behind your face. You aren’t sure if you want to scream or cry for catharsis, but you stay quiet, trembling.

“I want to be in my bed,” you mutter.

Satoru lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for a while. Gently, he touches the nape of your neck, Infinity down. Laces his fingers in your hair in a sort of compromise. He moves his arm underneath your back with the other under your knees and lifts you, kicking off the blankets.

You curl into him, head on his chest. It made it hard for Satoru to breathe, for some reason, like something was stealing the air from his lungs. He nods to Suguru as a voiceless confirmation, watching his cursed energy flare. I’ll take it from here.

When he gets you into your room, Satoru releases you, placing you gingerly on the floor. Part of him wants to shake you by the shoulders, have you slap him across the face for reasons unknown to him. Something, anything other than the despondence of your limp figure. He can’t stand it.

“Satoru,” you whisper. “I’m sorr–”

“Don’t,” he strains. “Do you even know why you’re apologizing? Or is it just second nature to you?”

You say nothing.

He strips off your uniform, torn and battered. Still reeking of copper blood, the stench all too familiar, but not on you. 

“I’m sorry for being mean. I was just worried,” he says. “I’m… proud of you.”

“Proud?” You look at him, dazed, as if this is the last thing you expect him to say.

He nods curtly, a sad smile on his face. “I always knew you had it in you.”

He picks you up again despite your futile protest, walking you to the attached bathroom. After turning on the faucet, he sits next to you, hand stroking your thigh gently in silence. He doesn’t look at you. He’s not sure if he can.

“C’mon. Up.” He taps your thigh once.

You’re still dizzy as you enter the bath, sighing at the warmth of the water. As you sink into the bath, a sense of relief washes over you, momentarily easing the tension in your body. A much-needed respite.

You feel Satoru trail his fingers around your collarbone, rising to feel your pulse. The rhythm seems to calm him as he soothes his palm over your shoulders and back. His touch is less urgent than it usually is. 

He squeezes shampoo in your hair and threads his fingers through it, scratching your scalp gently, untangling the mess of you. He saturates a washcloth with soap, rubbing small circles over your limbs, lifting you like you’re a doll. It was funny—he had never had to take care of anyone other than himself before, but at the moment, he’s indulged in the small hums of pleasure you make, reveling in your comfort. Your trust.

He likes taking care of you. It makes him feel like he has a sense of control. He doesn’t want to indulge too far into it, knowing it’ll smolder a nasty part of him in some way. But the steam of the hot water makes his cheeks ruddy, and when you open your eyes at the feeling of his hand on your jaw, he can’t help but want to keep you. 

Satoru turns your face toward him, cupping your chin as he leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens like a flower blooming, ready for him like always. He tries not to be rough despite the moan you tease out of him. Your skin is soft after he bathes you. His hands know carnage, but they also know you.

You break apart, looking at each other for a few seconds before he kisses you again. He pecks your mouth, nose, and cheeks, leaving you to scrunch your nose by the end. Laughing, he rinses your hair.

“Feel better?” he asks lightly. You nod. 

“C’mon, baby. You’re gonna get all pruney in there.”

You’re perfectly capable of drying yourself off and putting on clothes, but Satoru seems eager to do it for you, so you stay limp in his arms. He’s being oddly affectionate as he babies you, which he never does. It’s usually the other way around.

With his hands on your waist, a dangerous thought flits through Satoru’s mind, but it dissipates when he fixes your hair to see you fresh-faced. You look young, innocent. Untouched by violence like he had known you before. 

He takes you to the bed, where, despite the size of it, he manages to slot his body next to yours so he can curl into you. Head on your chest to listen to the murmur of your heartbeat. 

You stay like this for a while, listening to each others’ breaths. You’re on the brink of sleep when you think you feel tears on your chest. Dampness on your cotton shirt, but only a little. Satoru exhales heavily, squeezing the meat of your side. You’re feeling a little too warm from the proximity but don’t have the heart to untangle yourself. You close your eyes.

“I love you.”

You aren’t sure if it’s a whisper in your dreams or not.

June, 2002

You both had matching bruises. Green and yellowish like snot.

The summer was changing you and Satoru in a way that held gravity. Satoru’s body was growing more and more, handsome like the beautiful child he’d been when you first met him, and you were a purgatory. Something girlish. Something ghostly.

Your mother had reprimanded you last week for coming back with a bloody knee, scolding you for rough play. The expiration on your youth seemed to be ticking from the way she chastised you about your shared misbehavior with Satoru – you were meant to grow into something polite and womanly.

Satoru had scoffed at the notion when you told him. He liked that you weren’t obsequious to him like everyone else in his life who treated him like a little prince. 

Unfortunately, you’d pave the road of your abjection all by yourself later on.

He still thought of you as the only person who understood him. He was your first friend, your only friend for a while, and you were his. You’d count stars with him. Catch fireflies and make wishes on them. Wear each other’s clothes before his growth spurt.

You’d clung to each other for years—it was difficult to tell which one of you was the parasite. Despite this, sometimes you think Satoru hates you. Sometimes he makes you cry, especially with how apathetic he can be. You blame his stoicism on his upbringing, but there are times that you feel like an afterthought, only exacerbated as he grows older and into something of worth.

At age twelve, it’s difficult for you to believe that you could be anything similar.

Your young ferocity gets minimized to meekness at school. There’s hair-pulling, harder than Satoru’s ever done to you. Stolen lunches. Spitballs to your back. Your face kissing pavement.

“What happened to you?” Satoru asks, narrowing his eyes at the sight of your split lip.

“I fell.”

He’s forceful when he drags you to him. He’s too tall for his age, towering over you with cold blue eyes staring down at you. You flinch when he touches your cheek with his hand.

“You’re lying,” he frowns.

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

He doesn’t pry after that, but he does force you to clean the cut with hydrogen peroxide, which is ironic considering how little he cares about his own cuts and bruises from his private training.

On the playground the next day, you’re targeted again, reaching desperately for your backpack that’s stolen straight from your hands. A kick to the shins has you scraping your palms when you try to ground yourself. Your hands sting as they bleed. You gasp when you feel another kick to the stomach, a cruel round of laughs taunting you.

But then, you hear them gasp. The sound of knuckles hitting bone. 

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Satoru lifts you up by the hand and holds you by the shoulders. He picks the debris out of your hair.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs. He ignores the tears on your cheeks. He’ll wipe them away later along with the dried blood in your palms.

You’ll shower in his bathroom, mind blank under the hot water. He’ll see your silhouette through the peek in the door, and his stomach will lurch in a new way. He won’t be able to look at you for a week after. 

June, 2009

He comes to you at night a little drunk. You’re surprised Satoru didn’t warp this time – you’re used to seeing him in the blink of an eye right before you go to sleep just because he doesn’t want to sleep in his own room. Sleep is hardly a thing for him anyway – his insomnia has gotten a bit worse over the years, so he prefers to play on his Nintendo DS quietly as he strokes your hair. 

“You actually knocked?” 

He shrugs as he moves past you to flop his long body onto your twin bed. You look at him in question. He doesn’t answer, only gesturing for you. 

“Come over here,” he slurs.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not–” he hiccups, “at all.”

“Satoru,” you berate.

“Okay, maybe I went a little crazy with the Dirty Shirleys. Needed a drink after the stupid fucking mission Yaga sent us on.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking this much. It’s a weekday.”

He mocks you and settles a hand over your waist. You notice the calluses on his hands, ironic considering he can never let anything touch him. But you can.

He sits you on his lap, rubbing your shoulders carefully. “How’s your night been?”

“Shoko made me watch Audition,” you frown.

“Oh. I love that one.”

“Of course you do,” you sigh, “Nothing scares you.”

You aren’t wrong. After assassination attempts and countless wretched curses thrown Satoru’s way, nothing could make him flinch anymore. 

“You scare me,” he pouts, undressing himself. Always staking his claim on you in this way – he wouldn’t leave if you asked, and you know that you won’t.

“I highly doubt that.”

“You should yell at me more. It’s kind of a turn-on when you’re mad.”

You roll your eyes as you turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness if not for the light of the moon and the annoying brilliance of Satoru’s eyes. Even his hair seems to glow in the dark, head dipped in starlight. 

As you lay on your side, you feel Satoru’s palm undulating your bare thigh, tickling you under the hem of your t-shirt. He breathes in the scent of your neck.

“You have goosebumps,” he mumbles against your hair. “Gonna get nightmares from the movie?”

“No.”

“I’ll protect you,” he giggles boyishly, body overheating with want.

He sucks on your neck, hand parting the plushness of your thighs. You keen at the feeling of his teeth and tongue, gasping at his large fingers sliding your panties to the side to prod your cunt.

“This is all I could think about today.”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “Kept thinking about all those sounds you make. Kept thinking about your face.”

“You shouldn’t—ah—let yourself get so distracted on your missions.”

He laughs. “Whatever. Killed all those fuckers in less than ten minutes anyway.”

Satoru keeps you pressed to his chest, his other hand grasping your breast. You feel his dick hardening behind you as he plays with your cunt, fingers knuckle-deep inside you. It didn’t take him long to find your spot the way he had you memorized. Your eyes shut tightly as you moan. Stars knock around your head.

He turns your face toward his and licks at the seam of your lips, tongue roughly licking the inside of your mouth. Your body tingles at the sound of his groans. He holds you by the chin, hand slipping around your throat to hold you in place so he can take in every detail of your face. 

You flush under his gaze, how his blown-out pupils outweighed the ocean blue. His pink mouth is parted and breathing out, zephyrs of maraschino cherry tickling your face.

You cry out when he pins you down, sinks his cock into your wetness. A wounded sound. It makes him shiver, makes him think about you on that dingy cot a month ago in the infirmary. Satoru was about ready to avenge you in any way he could, back then, even when you weren’t even half-dead. He’d reshape mountains. Drown the whole city of Tokyo with his bare hands.

In the way he holds you with bruising force, rutting into you like a devoted dog, he decides that he will be the only person to hurt you. The only one who should, knowing that even with his regrets and jagged ways of caring, no one else should lay a finger on you except him. He’d never hurt you in a violent way, unless his passion had counted. If devouring you counted, which it probably did, he would be content with his selfishness if it meant you were safe.

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

“Made for me,” he whispers. “You were fucking made for me.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

He splits you open, spearing into your gut as he mumbles praises lowly into your ear. Your cunt pulses at the sound of his voice. He thrusts into you harshly, making blood rush to your head.

“You make me feel insane,” he grunts. “Used to think about you like this in high school. You were so fucking stubborn, refusing to give me attention.”

“You were a brat,” you flush. “Still are.”

“Your brat.”

“Mine,” you hum.

He groans at that. He’s so deep in you, drowning in syrupy velvet. He liked it when your body made him feel like this, like he was levitating. He wasn’t Gojo with you, always Satoru, always just a boy. He’d be content in this infinite spiral, swapping spit in between tongues and fucking into you until you cried. Your body is sacred. You made him forget himself when he needed to.

You like when he carves you out like this, your cunt a shrine for him at this point. You moan at the loss of him, watching through glassy eyes as he stumbles, fixing your body in between his knees.

“Wanna see my pretty girl’s face,” he groans. He’s annoyingly rough when he enters again, but you love it. He says your name like it’s a prayer.

Your head buzzes as he thrusts into you faster this time. His hair sticks to his face, tickling your cheek as he bites into your neck. Midnight vignettes blur your vision. 

“Wish you’d let me have you earlier,” he pants.

“Fucking me for the past year wasn’t enough?”

He shakes his head. “Wish I lost it to you. I was thinking about you during it, too.”

“Satoru,” you whine.

He means it. He was already blunt as could be, but alcohol made him over-honest. He liked that his candor made you blush.

“Would you have let me fuck you?” he teases. “When we were fifteen?”

“No. You were even stupider then.”

“So mean to me,” he chuckles, rolling his hips more aggressively. He revels in watching you squirm. “I would’ve worshipped you.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. Nails cross-hatching the length of his back.

“I would’ve.” I will.

He kisses you open-mouthed like it’s a promise, pulling your hair in the process. The room was starting to get hot, that June humidity unforgiving, even at night. You’d have to open a window later. His body makes yours swelter, skin melting into skin like he’s trying to fuse the both of you into one thing. Like that Greek myth about two halves of a soul.

“Fuck, ‘m so close,” he whimpers. “You feel too good. Shit, I wanted to make you beg.”

“Sounds like you’re the one begging,” you exhale.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Want you. You’re killing me. Fuck.”

He spills inside of you at the same time you cum, the heaviness of his low groans making your brain break. He’s still drunk, head swimming with every part of you. Above you, he sports that fallen angel look again, eyes gleaming with rapture. Prodigious as he was, he worships you instead, blessed with love bruises adorning his shoulder.

Satoru always liked to fuck you like it was the last day he’d ever have you. Tonight is no different. 

He exhales at the juncture of your neck, soothed by your hands in his hair. He lifts his body up, kissing your collarbone before he descends to your belly. You tremble at the feeling of his hand cupping your cunt.

“Satoru, I can’t–”

“Please?” he pouts, his breath tickling your clit. “Wanna taste you. All mixed up with me.”

Heat rises to your face violently. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love it.”

“You made such a mess,” you grumble.

“I’ll clean it up,” he grins. 

You let him. His sharp mouth never lets up, anyway.

“Wait! Sit on my face.”

“I can’t even feel my legs,” you pout.

He whines your name. “I had such a tough mission today, baby. You don’t think I deserve it?”

“Spoiled,” you mumble as you switch positions with him. Below you, he looks feral in the eyes, over-eager. Hungry like a wolf even after fucking you hard.

You gasp when he pulls you down, slotting your thighs on each side of his head while he starts to taste you. Licking up into your cunt, moaning at the taste of himself and the sweetness of you. He grips your ass, guiding your movements like the ebb and flow of a wave. You shake above him.

“Jesus.”

You feel him laugh, the vibrations tickling your clit. 

“Annoying slut,” you call him. He seems to enjoy it, thinking of it as praise considering how loud he groans. It almost embarrasses you.

That familiar feeling twinges in your core again. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He latches his mouth on your clit and you think you might burst. Maybe crumble and fly away in the wind like a dandelion.

He continues to suck on you as you ride out your orgasm, your thighs trembling. When he gets up for air, his eyes are blown out wide, drunken smile on his face as if he’s peaking. Chemical reactions in his blood.

“So good for me,” he grins, kissing you on the mouth. Your heart flutters.

His gaze is still searing into you. Looking at him hurts, sometimes. 

Satoru presses into you, curling into your neck again. His heartbeat reverberates throughout the room. Tenderness floods the both of you, bodies slotted together like he wants to make a nest out of you. 

You’re exhausted with heavy lids. Satoru strokes your skin until you fall asleep, careful fingers soothing the places his mouth had been. Divine wounds. Like a devotional dog with teeth too sharp and love larger than his body, Satoru will be the only one to hurt you.

[fairy-writes]

😎 congrats on 900 followers my best friend!! You deserve it!! I shall give the first first request to you, and that is, Sanemi x fem reader!!! With the action prompt 1! I give you free reign but for the love of everything holy, please make it fluffy!!!!!

IT JUST MEANS TIME

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Shinazugawa Sanemi x Female!Reader

Prompt: Falling asleep with their head in the lap of their lover (Action Prompt #1)

Notes: This is technically before the reader and Sanemi gets together, but it’s a fun idea, so we’re going with it, lol.

This is for my 900 followers event! Check my pinned post for more info if you want to join! It’s going on between May 1st and May 15th!

__________________________________________________________________________

There was always something off about you, but Shinazugawa Sanemi could never place what it was. 

You were a fellow Hashira—the Falcon Hashira, if he remembered right. You were from overseas but talented nonetheless. One of the more talented Hashira, if he had to admit anything. With quick but grand divebombing techniques and lethal strikes that imitated a falcon, after which you were named. The two of you sparred often, usually on your estate. You teased him, saying that he probably had a dirty home. 

He never told you it was because he didn’t want you to see the picture of his family. 

He didn’t want your pity most of all. 

Because he had a feeling that your pity would shatter his heart into tiny pieces.

But he wasn’t sure why.

Sanemi wakes up somewhere warm. His body aches as if he was dragged behind a train. His eyelashes flutter open, and he looks up to see your face. Your eyes are closed. Your face turned forward toward the open window, gently swaying from side to side with the breeze as you hummed a tune. It was calming… relaxing… 

It was something he hadn’t felt since before his mother died. 

The moment he realizes his head is in your lap, he bolts upright, startling you into opening your eyes. You glance at him in confusion before your expression warms, a twinkle in your eye and an expression he couldn’t quite place curling your lips.

“Have a nice rest?” You ask kindly. That was the thing about you. You were never unkind to anyone. You dealt with demons swiftly and painlessly, even going as far as to pray for them as they died. You always had that smile on your face, even when people screamed or cursed in your face. 

“Where am I?” He demands, and you shrug,

“Your estate. Shinobu asked if I could keep an eye on you while you healed. Do you remember anything?” You ignore his guarded expression, instead talking to him as if he was your best friend or even a lover. 

Lover… 

For whatever reason, he didn’t hate that idea. But he knew it was never meant to be. While he cared for you deeply (he wasn’t sure when that happened), he knew that you would never look twice at a man like him. Why would you? You were calm, kind, successful, and one of the only Hashira with a still living and loving family. Why you were a demon slayer was a mystery to him. 

“Shinazugawa? Are you alright?” You ask, breaking him from his reverie. You had cocked your head, and concern painted your face like an art piece. With the setting sun bathing your body in golden light, he thought you looked almost like an angel. 

Sanemi nods,

“‘m fine. What happened?” He eventually says, and you frown (he hates it when you frown) but reply regardless. 

“We were sent on a mission, and you were attacked by a demon. You passed out from blood loss soon after we killed the demon. I carried you back here. ” You explain succinctly, and he blinks. He vaguely remembered going on the mission. He remembers a splash of red. He remembers being moved. 

Had that been you? 

He is stuck in his mind and only shakes his head to clear himself of half-formed memories when you come back in with a tray of tea and a roll of bandages. 

“Shinobu asked that I take care of you.” You reiterate and gesture for him to turn around. He does so without a word. There’s no use in arguing, not when he hurts this bad and can spot speckles of stains on his futon where blood had leaked through the wrappings. You work deftly and quietly, only asking if the bandages are too tight, to which he says no. 

Eventually, you speak. 

“Who are those people in the picture?” You ask, and he immediately knows which picture you’re talking about. It’s the one by his futon. It’s the only picture of his entire family. His father’s face had been ripped from the image, and there were a few splatters of red on the paper, but he kept it nonetheless. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He says gruffly and grunts when you tug a bit too tight on the bandage around his middle. You apologize quietly.

“They’re your family, aren’t they? I think that matters a lot.” You say, voice but a whisper in the breeze coming through the window.  Sanemi clenches his fists and grits his teeth. Here it comes. 

The pity. 

The apologies. 

You don’t look at him with those eyes that he despises. Instead, you look at him with compassion, not pity. 

“I think they’d be proud of you, y’know? You’re helping so many people. I think they’d want you to have a happily ever after.” You say, and he remembers seeing you read a book of foreign fairy tales. When he had asked you about it, you had smiled. 

“I just want a happily ever after someday.” You had said. 

“There’s no such thing as “happily ever after.” It’s just a lie that everyone tells themselves because the truth is too hard.” He says bitterly, his heart constricting.

No. 

He didn’t want to say that. 

Not to you. 

He didn’t want you to look sad. 

But you continue to astound him when you speak again. You don’t apologize. You don’t reprimand him. You don’t belittle him. 

“Happily ever after just means time, Sanemi.” You whisper, putting a hand over his. He revels in the feeling of your calloused hand and the way you say his name with a smile. Normally, he’d shout at anyone for calling him that. But you are different. And that was something he liked about you.

So, when you gently tug him down so he lies with his head in your lap, he doesn’t complain. He even closes his eyes as you begin to hum. 

He falls asleep soon after, feeling relaxed and calm, feeling loved. 

Sanemi always prided himself on keeping his walls up. Because with a past like his, he didn’t want pity. He didn’t want people to say how sorry they were for him. Because frivolous words like that did nothing around demons. 

But… strangely enough… he didn’t feel like he needed to keep them up around you. 

[yuujispinkhair]

When Sukuna tore Angel's arm off he said he missed the taste of human flesh, however that also means that when eating meat he has to taste blood... That gives me ideas for Sukuna fics with vampire tendencies.

Oh yes, I definitely feel like King of Curses Sukuna is someone who would love to bite you and get a taste of you. I mean, he can even use his reverse cursed technique to heal you afterward, just like a vampire could do, too.

Sukuna loves food, and the only person he canonically allows to stay by his side is Uraume, who cooks for him. So, it makes sense to me that Sukuna sees eating as a form of love. Consuming little bits of you is the highest form of praise and adoration Sukuna can give. You are so adored and desired and loved by him that he wants to take a part of you inside himself. And if you ask him if you can bite him too and take a few drops of his blood into you too, he will feel a warmth in his chest he has never felt before.

And so Sukuna and you feast on each other like two vampires would, creating a bond between you that goes deeper than any wedding vow could. Part of you is in him, and part of him is in you.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Heyoooo-! can I request for Yan! getou, Yan!Gojo, and Yan!Toji with a cheery like- nurse! reader? reader is always super sweet to everyone, always helping people in need. Tysmm<33

Oooh~ cuteee! Let’s try it out! Update from the future; it is strangely cute for a Yandere thing!

Yandere! Geto Suguru

Geto fell for you when you ran up to him and used your perfected reverse cursed technique to heal his wounds. You’re so kind and considerate, the way you sit him down and wipe off the blood, his heart beat so fast with each touch that he thought it was gonna jump out of his throat

Geto has become obsessed with you and your sweet care over him and his health. He just can’t stand anybody else having that same attention and care, you don’t like them like you like him. He wants all of it and you to himself as a sense of Yandere annihilate his rationality

Geto will use his cursed spirits to threaten every one of his potential rivals into avoiding you. Where you feel lonely and upset, then he can come in and swoop you off your feet. He isn’t some coward that runs away, you should like him

Geto can’t bring himself to hurt you and your feelings so he keeps all of his twisted self a secret. He kills behind your back, he tries to limit the manipulation, he hides his possessive glares all in fear that he’ll lose that cheery loving person he is mad for

Yandere! Gojo Satoru

Gojo feels his jaw drop to the floor, as when he was waiting to be taken care of, see you suddenly besides him using your signature reversed cursed technique to make the wound close up. His heart dropped at the new bubbling feeling, what is this?

Gojo’s unrecognised obsession with you and your cheery helpfulness grows until it becomes all he thinks about, a Yandere streak taking over. He wants you and he always gets what he wants

Gojo is bratty enough to keep injuring himself so you’ll divert your attention onto him, so you’ll heal him, worry about him and care about him. He is that bratty and possessive over you, that he’ll steal away your eyes by playing the victim since nobody else but him deserves you

Gojo gets unbelievably jealous everytime you rush to help any other fellow sorcerer that is injured. He is almost on the verge of obliterating that street trash into pieces and keeping you stashed away in his room, where you can’t leave but he holds it all back around you

Yandere! Fushiguro Toji

Toji is one of the best assassins the Star Religious Group has ever hired, and even though you’re a sorcerer, you fight with the non-sorcerers by healing the members. That expands to Toji, who comes back with a injury from his mission to kill Riko Amanai, and you pull him to the side to fix him up. His heart almost stops when he senses how loving and cheerful you are

His wife. You’re so much like his wife, it hurts yet it’s great

Toji‘s bubbling obsession over you and your angelic pure nature gets all the more overwhelming everytime he sees you, everytime he needs to be healed by you. His Yandere self takes over and he realises he needs to have you as his

Toji kills everybody that merely breathes in your direction or simply talks to you, and he’ll make sure they always suffer before death. Your existence is on the tier of a God’s and nobody should be bothering you at all, rather you want to help everybody you can or not

Toji has cameras hidden around your sleeping quarters and in the Star Religious Group building too so he can be always watching you. He needs to constantly monitor you to quell his desires, to calm himself down so he doesn’t go into a love-berserk frenzy. He’s losing his ability to behave fast

[otherwordlyanathema]

GOJO SATORU X F!READER

DESCENT INTO INSANITY

Wherein Gojo Satoru is the anchor that keeps you sane.

A/N: Currently crying because of Leaks 😭

'Satoru is dead?'

Y/N couldn't wrap her head around it. One minute he was standing triumphant after annihilating the majority of Shinjuku with his Hallow Purple, the next thing they knew; Sukuna had disembodied him in half.

Everyone was silent.

The situation changed drastically that they couldn't wrap their head around it.

Gojo's students were in anguish.

Y/N watched as Kashimo jumped down as the next contender against Sukuna.

"No! No!" she mumbled, frantically. "Satoru's body is still there..."

It was Hakari who first sprung into action, dashing towards where Kashimo and Sukuna are clashing and narrowly dodging being cut as he took Gojo's body from the battlefield. Returning back to the others, he laid the Special Grade down in front of his lover.

Y/N was a Special Grade in her own right. She was often overlooked because she allowed Gojo's brightness to shine and allowed herself to stay in the background.

Nobody knew how destructive she could be. She was kept in check because Satoru made her happy. Happy and contented enough that she could keep her unstable powers at bay.

Choked sobs escaped from her throat at the sight of Satoru's body.

It hurt like nothing she experienced before. Seeing him bloodied.

From beside her, Shoko knelt down placing a hand where Gojo was cleaved. With her Reverse Cursed Technique, she healed the skin to reattach despite not knowing what it would do. She figured Y/N deserved to see Satoru as she met him.

'I don't know if Satoru could come back from this but at least this gives him a fighting chance.' Shoko thought, sadly looking at her annoying friend.

Y/N let out a heartbroken scream which broke the heart of the spectators of the Battle of the Strongest.

Kneeling down beside Satoru, her hand caressed his blood stained hair and she wiped the blood on his lips with her sleeve. Her hands covered his once bright Six-Eyes that she loved so much as she moved them closed.

'Satoru did not deserve this. He had done so much only to end up like this.' Y/N thought, bitterly. 'You don't know how much I wanted to shelter you from this world you did so much to uphold order.'

Something else had taken root inside of Y/N.

They said death of a beloved makes you numb.

Not in her case.

Her entire being screamed revenge.

Shoko's eyes widened as her gaze drifted to Y/N. Her friend's Cursed Energy was pulsing dangerously. "Y/N what..."

Y/N's leaking Cursed Energy caused everyone to wince at how intense it was.

"Y/N stop! You'll manifest a curse like this!" Shoko scolded, attempting to get the female to calm down.

To their surprise, the female vanished before one of Mei Mei's crows had spotted Y/N levitating above where the clash of Sukuna and Kashimo were currently happening.

'And here comes the numbness they were talking about during grief.' Y/N thought, mustering up her Cursed Energy at maximum output as her eyes took on a crazed look.

'What good has being good done me? None. I'm done being good. The world is about to witness how bad I can be.'

---FLASHBACK---

"Aren't you tired, love?" Y/N asked an exhausted Gojo, who just returned from a solo mission.

His eyes brightened even more at the sight of the female cooking. He bounded towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head in the crook of her neck. "I am. But I do it for you and the kids. I think that's enough of an incentive to keep going."

Her eyes widened at his statement and how serious he actually seemed. "I want to be able to protect you too. Or at the very least be a sanctuary where you can actually relax and let your guard down."

His only response was a smile, inhaling her scent that never fails to make him content. 'You already do. Coming home to you is sanctuary enough.'

---END FLASHBACK---

"What is life without you, Satoru?" She murmured before a maniacal look came on her once angelic features. "What use is this world without you?"

Her Cursed Energy continued emerging from her, fueled by her desire to destroy it all. It manifested into a huge black sphere of condensed Cursed Energy, ready to raze anything in its path.

She's slowly realizing she wasn't meant to save the world, rather to watch it burn.

"Watch me burn this world for what it has done to you, Satoru."

[talonabraxas]

🔹The Sirians🔹 Talon Abraxas 

Embracing Your Sirian Starseed Gifts & AbilitiesOnce you uncover your origins as a spiritual being from Sirius, you can consciously begin activating, honing, and embodying your innate gifts. Here are some Sirian starseed abilities you can cultivate:

Energy Healing & Channeling Many Sirians are powerful natural healers and channels attuned to higher frequencies. Develop your abilities through Reiki, pranic healing, quantum touch, aura cleansing, chakra balancing, crystal healing medicine, or trance channeling.

Clairvoyance & Clairaudience Clear seeing, clairvoyance, hearing divine guidance clairaudience, and sensing energies or intentions are common Sirian traits. Strengthen your psychic perceptions through divination tools like Tarot, crystals, runes, or pendulum dowsing.

Astral Projection Sirian lightbodies are well-designed for out-of-body travel, lucid dreaming, and astral projection. Keep a dream journal and practice OBE techniques before sleeping to access the astral dimension.

Mediumship Many Sirians can easily connect with spirits, angels, extraterrestrials, and higher-dimensional beings. However, caution is required when opening up to receive ESP or mediumship experiences.

Manifestation Sirians can instantly manifest needs through intention and holding a high vibration. But beware of ego-based desires. Meditate deeply on your true soul desires and use visualization techniques to magnetize them into reality.

Transmutation As alchemists, Sirians can transmute lower energies into higher frequencies using spiritual practices and their crystalline auras. Develop personal rituals to purify spaces, thoughts, or situations.

Interdimensional Travel Advanced Sirians are masters of interdimensional travel and technologically advanced crafts. However, most starseeds are here to raise Earth’s vibration, not escape it. Stay grounded in your incarnation but do visit home through meditation.

By exploring your metaphysical gifts, you more fully inhabit your Sirian higher self and courageously fulfill your sacred spiritual mission on Earth. You chose this path before incarnating, and every experience is now activating your remembrance.

[jgnico]

please nico i beg you to explain the sukuna 4 eyes being a copy of six eyes theory 🙏 it sounds really interesting

I was going to make a joke about you triggering my trap card, but yes, I would love to explain the Eyes Theory.

First, I wanna lay down some groundwork before I get into why I believe that Sukuna having four eyes functions as a nerfed version of the Six Eyes technique.

Thanks to statements from Todo and Mechamaru during the Goodwill event, we know that normal sorcerers can see cursed energy and follow its flow/behavior. With Todo, he's able to see the flow of Yuuji's cursed energy and how it lags behind, which leads to him teaching Yuuji the basics of cursed energy manipulation. Later in this same arc Mechamaru is able to see one of Panda's cores by looking at where his cursed energy is concentrated within his body.

So we know that sorcerers can see the cursed energy of other sorcerers and curses even without Six Eyes, but to drive this point home...

We get a panel of Sukuna looking at the cursed energy of the people within the city around him in the very first chapter. This lets us know that not only can he see cursed energy, but that he can see the limited cursed energy within non-sorcerers.

Where Six Eyes possibly differs in this aspect of its use is the precision with which it sees cursed energy. In the top panel here we're able to see Gojo's view of Toji's movement thanks to The Worm he's carrying, which isn't only brighter/clearer, but the traces between Toji's movements can be seen despite Toji's speed making him basically invisible to the naked eye.

It's thanks to this view of cursed energy that Gojo is able to do things like discern a person's technique or see if someone is a sorcerer to begin with. [ch. 69, 70] But, I'd like to point out that Sukuna has done something similar, for both of the previously listed feats. Not only is he able to figure out Megumi's technique during their fight, similar to how Gojo figures out the curse users technique in his respective fight, but we've repeatedly been told by The Angel that Sukuna only needs to see someone do something once in order to replicate it himself.

This isn't only how he was able to turn himself into a cursed object, despite other ancient sorcerers being unable to do so, but also how he's able to understand how Gojo was "healing" his cursed technique and do it himself afterwards. Likewise, this is also the foundation of why he wanted to use Mahoraga against Gojo after seeing how the shiikigami operated in Shibuya: to get a blueprint of how to get past Limitless. Despite multiple guesses from multiple characters about how Mahoraga adaption works (namely of which was Gojo), Sukuna is the only character that's seen it adapt multiple times, and therefore, knew that its adaptation process differed with each use.

So if we know that Sukuna can see and interpret Cursed Energy at a level on par with Gojo --save for some clarity through how the Six Eyes takes in information vs the eyes of other Sorcerers -- what about the other benefit that Gojo gets from his eyes: high amounts of Cursed Energy Efficiency?

Well, we get the answer to that from the person -- outside of Gojo and Sukuna or even Kenjaku -- that would know the most about Cursed Energy Manipulation. Keep in mind that Kashimo, regardless of his death, was someone who kept his place among the strongest by only using his CE reserves. By right of his skillset, he's no slouch when it comes to the topic, and per his assessment, Sukuna's efficiency would be better than Gojo's if he didn't have the Six Eyes to replenish his CE in the way that it does.

This is the only real substantial difference between the two, that Gojo's Six Eyes gives him more cursed energy, which allows him to burn ridiculous amounts of it, even without perfect efficiency. To balance it out and keep them somewhat equal, Sukuna has a tighter hold on his efficiency rate and a lot more cursed energy to compensate for what he uses up.

But why do I think that Sukuna having extra eyes is his own version of Six Eyes specifically, rather than a visual buff alone?

Well, we told explicitly that Sukuna's extra limbs and organs make his body perfect for sorcery. None of these modifications to his body are purely aesthetic. Extra hands for signing, an extra mouth for chanting --both of which greatly increase the potency of your attacks-- an extra heart and lungs to make sure it all keeps running smoothly.

The only feature that isn't mentioned is his extra pair of eyes, which is odd given the fact that they're arguably his most noticeable and present feature. Even outside of his true form, his eyes are manifested on his vessel while his extra mouth and arms aren't. Even when he's not in control of his vessel --as with Yuuji's case-- his eyes still remain on his face, only closed.

If all of his extra limbs and organs have a purpose that makes his body perfect for sorcery, then why would his eyes be different? And what better eyes to immulate than the ones that are highly valued within the jujutsu world for the advantages they give in terms of sorcery and have also been around in some way for as long as Sukuna has?

While I won't argue that they're better or even the same, I will say that they are at least (arguably) equal in two of the three main benefits that the Six Eyes grant their users; perception and interpretation of cursed energy.

That's the theory, at least.

[nottapossum]

you think husk would watch supernanny for some parent tips only to get super invested in Jo absolutley slamming on the parents and being like "you go tell em, Jo!" as she tells a parent that they're awful rasing kids

Haha 😆

To be honest, I could definitely see Husk watching it for that reason at first, but continuing to watch it purely for entertainment purposes and less the advice.

Personally, I like watching the show on occasion, but I'm not the biggest fan of the authoritative parenting style. Just my personal opinion.

I can see him using some of her methods from time to time, but most of it wouldn't really work with Angel.

It would just make the spider feel bad.

Though I definitely see Husk being stricter than say- Charlie or Cherri. I don't think Angel would benefit from being ignored when he's crying or when he's put in a time out. And Husk wouldn't be that cruel.

Every kiddo is different, and though some kids would be fine with most of her techniques but Angel responds better with positive reinforcement and strict boundaries.

He doesn't let Angel just get away with everything. There's still discipline. He just focuses more on helping Angel learn boundaries and healing his inner child than teaching him to be a "perfect kid."

He doesn't want Angel to think that he needs to make Husk happy or else he gets in trouble. He wants Angel to learn that he is loved no matter what he does and teach him to work on being his best self for himself, not for anyone else.

Long rant. I apologize.

⚠️Warning: Talking about drinking alcohol⚠️

Okay- here's the fun stuff:

He would definitely criticize the parents in the show and cheer on Jo like it's some type of sports channel.

Lol and Angel, when he's big, can join in and help cheer her on.

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

Angel: "What'cha watchin?"

Husk: "Supernanny."

Angel, laughing. "What are you, are thirty year old mom?"

*Couple drinks later*

Angel: *watching with Husk* "Tisk tisk, wow. Didn't stick to the new routine, Jo's gonna be maaad when she gets back."

*Jo pausing the clip.*

Husk: "Now you're in for it, Debbie."

♤♡◇♧

Husk: "This is just lazy parenting"

Supernanny: "You're just being lazy."

Husk: "That's what I'm saying!"

♤♡◇♧

Angel: "This family doesn't need a super nanny. They need a super CPS person to come in."

Husk *Sighs* "Can't fix everyone, Jo. Sometimes, you just gotta accept that."

♤♡◇♧

Angel, gasps: "My parents should have been on this show!"

Husk: "My parents wouldn't have stayed sober enough to watch an episode, let alone be in one."

Angel, handing Husk another bottle.

Husk, takes it: "Thanks."

Angel: "Yup."

♤

♡

◇

♧

@todayimfour @ask-dusty-boy @trophyxtissues2 @abby5577 @im-not-paying-my-taxes

[lunarsallows]

Angel Down: Professor! Sebastian Sallow x Professor! Reader

I miss a love that never was

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mystery, eventual smut

Word Count: 1410

Sebastian and MC aged up to 23, other characters are mid-20's and over.

This story is in first person POV.

Five years after leaving Hogwarts and you found yourself back as a potions teaching assistant, leading research on innovative healing techniques. Settling in felt like a fresh start, until your unrequited love returns after leaving the Ministry of Magic in disgrace. How long until you find yourself tending to his wounds, in sickness and in health?

A/N: Apologies this chapter is shorter and more to the point, I wanted to quickly set the plot and let the rest of the story provide more detail in the future :). Reblogs are appreciated!

Chapter 1: Unrequited.

The ambience of alive yet barren classroom corridors, broom sweeps and faint classical music settles me as I sit amongst rolls of parchment in the empty potions classroom, proceeding onwards with marking student assignments on the properties of Shrivel fig in elemental potions.

It feels like yesterday I was on the other side of the desk but five years after graduating from Hogwarts and I'm back in the place that felt closest to home. I thought I would have found that outside of the ancient walls through an established career, but growing into adulthood meant leaving behind what I thought made me strong and if I was going to establish myself in the wizarding world it would be through helping others.

Taking a nursing placement at St. Mungo's with the promise of healing and protecting the most vulnerable in wizarding society coincided well with my affinity of studying and improving upon the most potent of healing potions, and I worked to establish a new area of research into the use of ancient magic to heal. Rewarding as it may have been, dealing with the aftermath of Ranrok’s campaign hit too close to home in many ways and sometimes throughout the night I can still hear the prolonged screams of patients. 

Five years later and I’m back in Professor Sharp’s office, returning with renewed questions about my ambitions that were staunchly followed by the professors via boastful Daily Prophet headlines. Now working as a potion’s teaching assistant, I can openly continue the pursuit of my research whilst being an open book for any curious student.

I don’t notice the procession into the night until the room gently lights iteself with candles, and I give myself a minute to decompress with a chance to stay up-to-date with wizarding affairs. I notice a copy of the Daily Prophet with several eye-grabbing titles compressed into a mere page, but one in the middle truly screams for attention.

Fallen Angels? Elite Auror Wing at the Ministry fall foul of Dark Magic use.

Knowing my experience with the Ministry, many of its employees would prefer to swallow a spider fang than admit to any shortcomings, alongside any bags of galleons they feed to publications. For something to surpass that meant a true crisis.

“It can be confirmed by an inside source that a group of 5 elite aurors referred to under the codename ‘Fallen angels’ have found themselves at the centre of a dispute regarding the use of unregulated dark magic. 

Witnesses across the Scottish hamlet of Aranshire acknowledged lingering effects of an unforgivable curse amongst an innocent bystander, alongside an increased presence of inferi in the area.

The Ministry of Magic have confirmed a ‘regrettable’ breach of the code of Magical ethics amongst the accused, led by the famed hunter Sebastian Sallow who was once labelled an auror prodigy. While the extent of their behaviour remains under seal, all five have been fired with immediate effect.”

A small bout of butterflies fills my stomach as I read over the brief statement again. I had expected to hear of Sebastian’s high-profile ascent through the ministry, but it was not meant to be this. 

**

Five years ago.

“If anything, the Ministry is just a stepping stone for me. I’m not sure how long I can be around people not as driven as me.”

His words were sharp as the faint blinks of the night sky luminated down onto his freckles on top of the astronomy tower. Sebastian had a light glow as he spoke with determination, making it clear on the final night at Hogwarts that Anne’s fate would continue to mean everything.

“Even after everything we’ve been through?”

I couldn’t help but feel meek as I grasped onto the silver in the palm of my hand, knowing all I could do was support him and his goals, knowing they wouldn’t include me.

“Especially after everything”. He was exasperated but continued on. 

“I didn’t go through all of this just to fail like Solomon did. So long as I live to cure Anne, Magic will not restrain me like Hogwarts has.”

The statement was almost like a snake’s hiss.

A moment passed by in silence, and the closer it was to midnight I knew I had to do one last thing. 

“Sebastian!”

I sounded jittery and maybe I can blame it on the cold, but Sebastian’s brown eyes looked at me with curiosity.

“I, um, have something for you.

“Oh?” His expression upturned a little as I could relax the strain on my right hand, opening to see the silver pendant surrounding my crescent-shaped dips from grasping so tightly. 

I opened out my hand to him, showcasing a glowing pendant in the shape of a small heart. My nerves lessened slightly as I look up to see his questioning look, knowing that if it’s from me it has a practical use.

“It’s charmed. If you find yourself taking on any more cursed trolls or have a compulsive need to prove you’re better than the other aurors, you can break this open and harness a small piece of Ancient Magic.”

I could see his admiration for the tiny locket and it pushes me to finish what I need to say before I leave.

“If anything, I hope it shows that what we learned wasn’t in vain. You’ll always have a piece of me, wherever you end up”. 

I take a breath to let out the rest of my nerves as I wait for a response. Does it mean anything to be so vulnerable at this point? 

“With your state I thought you were proposing to me, how’d you know I'm such a hopeless romantic?” he said with a chuckle, going back to his sarcastic default state.

“Knowing you would love that” I start as I proceed to stand up. “I found the locket in The Room of Requirement. It knew exactly what I needed and maybe what you wanted too. I hope it will mean something to you.” 

Regret was becoming me because I was beginning to mourn something that never existed. My blurry vision started to betray me as all I could say was:

“Goodbye Sebastian. Good luck on your journey.”

**

The Next Day

There is a certain buzz within the staff corridor as I wait by the main staircase for an urgent announcement. A usually quiet morning now replaced with owls flying in every direction and questioning glares from myself and others who have no knowledge of the meetings regarding an affair of the ‘utmost importance.’

"If I'm quite honest, I think I would be more relaxed sitting alongside my new patch of Venomous Tentacula.”

Mirabel perks up to the restrained giggles of a few including myself. Normally we wanted to be an example for students by maintaining a sense of calm but this is one of the rare times where the uncertainty of the outside world could be felt within the castle’s walls. 

There was some more idle chatter before Professor Black came barraging through with determination, his vision focusing solely forwards with Scrope not far behind. The house elf is doing more to qualm queries of the large audience as his master proceeds to walk up a few steps and announce to us all: 

“Good morning everyone. I’m sure you all have heard of the recent news regarding one of the ministry’s esteemed auror’s branches being disbanded due to unlawful conduct. Whilst this school has an established and courteous relationship with the Ministry, I also have the belief that there are moments where we need to stand up for our own students. As a Slytherin specifically, given the choice we’ll choose to save our own necks in this somewhat lawless world we are currently in.” 

The atmosphere was starting to feel tense, and as I briefly look around I have a feeling some of the other professors immediately caught on to what Professor Black was suggesting to us. My heart beat already starts to pick up, waiting for verbal confirmation. 

“With Professor Hecat on secondment to the Ministry due to an undisclosed mission, I’m pleased to announce that one of our recent graduates, Sebastian Sallow, will be starting as Defence against the Dark Arts professor within the coming week. I will take no questions regarding this, and I expect you all to provide a courteous welcome.”

And there it was. Five years after letting go of an inescapable pain and it’s back. 

“Meeting dismissed.”

Read chapter two here

[jaspersreprise]

Connecting with your spirit guides

Hello, before I go on and about the information here, I just want you to know that I am sharing knowledge coming from a book called “The Witches Way”, published by Leanna Greenaway and Shawn Robbins :) It’s particular penchant is mainly Wiccan, but the books purpose it serves is a guide to modern-day witchcraft. I’m here to divulge information for our fellow beginner witches, who are still educating through their practice and journey, just like the majority of the witches that mentors and teaches. Although, this posts purpose is probably not aimed to how to start getting into your spiritual journey, but it could be something you’d want to learn later on. I hope you understand. But of course, I’ll post the essentials about how to start and where to start. Keep on learning little witchlings!! <33

Your guide will never want to frighten you, so it is unlikely that they will suddenly appear before your eyes in the cold light of day. To reach a successful connection, you must be prepared to experience a deeper level of consciousness. It can take a lot of practice to perfect, and only when you are at an advanced state in the meditative process can you begin to see visions.

These will usually occur when you are in the middling stage between sleep and wakefulness or in the moments before you wake up. You might also want to keep a motepad and pen next to your bed, as it is common to be told relevant information in dream sleep.

From Leanna Greenaway/Shawn Robbins, „Over the years and with a lot of practice, I have mastered the art of connection. For me, it’s like looking at a screen, a bit like a video recording. The background is black and the images appear with gold edges. The pictures move like they would in a video and last anywhere between one and three minutes. Prior to the visions, I sometimes hear a ringing sound, a bit like tinnitus but not as annoying. This is when I know my soul is turning into a higher frequency and I have finally connected.”

Read on for simple tips and steps to help you achieve a connection with your spirit guide

Items to have nearby

Crystals are very good to dot around the house, as they balance the energies in a room and can also help you to ground yourself. The seven crystals below are good if you want to promote successful meditation. I recommend that you house these stones somewhere in the bedroom. There is no need to spend a fortune on them when purchasing; small, polished versions, or tumble stones, can work just as well as large, more-expensive pieces. The choice is yours.

Angelite , used for summoning guides and angels

Amethyst , a calming stone sed to enhance psychic ability and meditation

Clear quartz , amplifies healing energy; known as the master healing stone

Rose quartz , good for relieving stress and tension; restores the aura by replacing negative energy with positive energy, boosts a live vibration

Black tourmaline , a ground stone that connects the Earth with the human spirit; aligns with chakras

Aventurine , energises the Heart Chakra for wellbeing and emotions

Carnelian , improves concentration during meditation

Mindful meditation

People begin with a series of meditation techniques when first trying to connect to their spirit guides. Before embarking on any spirit communication, it is imperative that you meditate for at least thirty minutes.

Lots of people find it hard to meditate for thirty minutes, but once you get the hang of if, it’s very easy. Those of you who have researched meditation will know there are hundreds of ways to get into a meditative state. There is also a wealth of information online that can help you find the right method for you.

If you choose to perform your meditation during the waking hours, select a crystal and hold it in your hand. If you want to use all of them in your meditation, sit and space the stones in a circle around the base of the chair you’re using or on the floor, should you choose to go without a chair.

If you hope to meditate during your sleeping hours, situate the stone(s) either under the bed or next to wherever you are sleeping. Make sure the house is quiet and sit or lie in the lotus position (sitting with legs crossed and hands on knees) as depicted in some books just make sure that you are cozy, snug, and completely relaxed. People find lying in the fetal position, under the covers, in their bed the best position. You might prefer to lie on your back or sit upright; it’s completely up to you!

First, concentrate on every part of your body, starting with your feet. Relax the feet, focusing on each toe being completely floppy, then work up the body to the ankle, calf muscles, and so fourth. Your aim is to be totally still, allowing yourself to become calm and tranquil. When you get to the area below the waist, hold a pelvic floor exercise for ten seconds, then clench your buttocks for a few seconds and relax. When you get to the top part of your body, raise your shoulders up toward your neck for five seconds before releasing them. You will feel a tingling sensation as they fall back to their usual position. Take your time. By the time you reach your facial muscles, you should be feeling extremely relaxed. Second, breathe steadily, either through your nose or mouth — whichever is most comfortable. Take a deep, slow breath inward and then exhale slowly. Repeat this for a few minutes or until you start to feel weightless. Clear your mind. Behind your closed eyes, focus in the darkness you see. See if you can pick out any shapes or lights.

Ask questions

At this stage, you should be in a meditative state, so now is the time to ask your guides for information. In your mind, ask your guide a series of questions, focusing on each question for a few minutes.

„I would like my guide to visit me. Are you there? Can you show yourself to me?

You might see patterns and shapes behind your eyes or feel a strange sensation of belonging. The experience is different for everyone. If you don’t feel anything, don’t be disheartened. Remember, some guides will not show themselves to you while uou are awake and might wait until a time when you are asleep. They know you better than you know yourself and may think that you are not ready to receive them in a conscious state.

„Please show me your gender. Are you male, female, or nonbinary?”

At this point, you must tune in physically and trust your inner thoughts and instincts. Imagine you are standing in front of a being. Tap into the energies and trust your very first answer. 

„can you tell me your name, please?”

It might take several meditations before you receive this answer, but, once again, trust those instincts—you have them for a reason. Allow your imagination to expand. Your guides name may not come quickly or even come to you at all when meditating. You might be given the name a few days later, so look out for signs. If, during the following days, you hear the same name repeatedly, perhaps on TV or the radio, it could be your guide nudging you gently. Alternatively, you might wake up one morning with a clear name in your head.

Once you have your guides name, you are on your way to connecting with them fully. If you are serious about making a connection with your guide, you must meditate every night before going to sleep. People often fall asleep during meditation; this is quite alright. When you arrive at a meditative state, your vibration rises and your energy starts to change and evolve. It does take lots of practice, so never give up. After a while you will be able to slip into this relaxed state quickly and summon your guide as needed.

Thank you for reading this. For all the beginner witches out there, I hope you grow more and more accustomed to your spiritual journey, and find your own path 🤍 please remember that you can find your own path to witchcraft — there’s no set formula, just a bunch of practices that you can choose to use. Witchcraft can be used for anything — from protection to success in certain aspects of life. If you want to know more, you may check out my quotev or tiktok account. I have posted information relating to these topics there, but I’m posting irregularly. Especially my tiktok account, I don’t really post there anymore 💔 but the works are still there.

tiktok acc: bthsheba

quotev: jaspersreprise

Simple acc names! :) goodbye now!

[muzzleroars]

Okay so.. I didn't quite get it yet. What happened to the story of Ultrakill in the 'fallen Gabriel series'? Why's he like that? What's going on??

i really should have a summary for this!! but in general this is a canon-divergent storyline - gabriel dies in a last battle with v1 just before his light burning out is able to take him, but he is reborn as a fallen angel of treachery for his defiance of the council. his tomb is found in judecca, the deepest pit of hell reserved for traitors to their lords and benefactors, which v1 enters in its curiosity and simply due to the fact that little architecture is to be found in this layer. it feels...something, seeing all the stained glass, sculptures, and works dedicated to gabriel's life, and at the end of the long, cold nave, a casket is laid before the altar dressed in funeral rites. as it processes what it sees (in whatever way it can), the resurrected gabriel brutally attacks it - too grieved and too disoriented to think properly, gabriel fully embraces all of his newfound demonic strength to tear v1 apart. his technique is nothing like what is was before, unable to fly, teleport, or call weapons of light, so he just presses v1 with raw power while targeting its weaknesses almost exclusively (namely its wings and blood ports) v1 is ever adaptive though, and of course manages to kick the shit out of him (though it also gets the same treatment, especially as gabriel limits its healing capacities) it makes him come to his senses and, with nowhere else to go, gabriel decides to stay at v1's side and contemplate what he's now to do with all the extra time he's been given.

the au then goes on its own storyline, concerning gabriel's transformation into a complete "demon" and how he handles his prior relationships (namely the ferryman, but also minos and sisyphus), as well as how he and v1 contend with the coming of the three other archangels to reinstate hell's former purpose under the direction of a deeply troubled michael. angelic v1 comes much, much later, when v1's hardware and computer begin to deteriorate to the point that it approaches death - gabriel does all he can to maintain it, but every day v1 fails more and soon....it doesn't wake up. terrified that hell will take it as a puppet, gabriel instead determines to return with its body to heaven and reclaim his lost light as its new life source by tearing his way through the spheres of heaven. overall the au doesn't have the most solid plot, but this covers the major points of it!