#that’s it for now though I may add on later

[aquacomet]

Happy Sun/Moon Reveal-versary! 🎉

The 21st of September has arrived meaning it's time to grab a slice of cake and celebrate as today is Sun and Moon's Reveal-versary/Birthday! In celebration of this, today is also the day the 2024 Reveal-versary magma collab opens!

The reveal-versary collab is a week-long event featuring two magma boards artists can draw in! (Time is dated from when this is originally posted.) Biblically accurate DCA, AUs and variations are all welcome to join in the celebrations! (If you have questions about what magma is or want to see some previous examples you can check out this post!)

Like last year the reveal-versary collab is split into two boards! Though starting from this year there will now be a surprise themed board each year!

The Party room: The main board where you can join Sun and Moon to celebrate their birthday! Grab a slice of cake, bring some snacks, add some gifts they may enjoy or add balloons if you wish!

Themed board: This years themed board is a Sleepover! Join a tiny pair of familiar faces over by a collection of pillows! Would you join in any mischief, join a sunny friend in some reading or simply get cosy during the sleepover? Feel free to add blankets, pillows, beanbags and maybe even some plushies!

Before jumping in here are the rules:

No NSFW

1 Character per board (For now! This may ease later into the event, this is to give people time/space to join when they can. Keep an eye on any updates for if this changes! Small props/additions can be added freely so long as they don't take too much space.)

Merge your layers when finished! (This is important to prevent slowdowns and allow others to draw if we go near the layer limit)

Sign your work (So I can credit you when the final result is posted!)

Keep your character a reasonable size (No characters that take up a large quarter of the canvas please!)

Please try to colour and finish your character/art if you can!

✨A additional thank you to the daycare friend pick-up server mods for their support with having this event run in their discord!

Without further ado, happy doodling and happy reveal-versary! 🎉

⭐Collab boards:

⭐Casual Boards: For those who want to doodle outside of the collab!

[eustassslut]

🌈~

Hi c': I saw that your requests were open! I was wondering if it's possible to request a Luffy, Law, Kid, and Zoro(separately)(if you can't add Zoro, that's fine!) with a s/o that's basically deemed a Nobody? They have no devil fruit, no special Haki skills or some super power hidden gift. The most they can do is doodle every now and then and that's it.

The main prompt is basically their "Nobody" s/o doodles their boyfriend(s) in their spare time, and gifts them the drawings c': They know that it may not do much, but their love language is showering them in drawn sketches of them(almost like a little kid aha)

Luffy is the biggest hype-man and supporter of any hobby you might have.

He regularly asks the other Strawhats for advice on what art supplies to buy you with his left over money.

He also keeps every sketch you've ever given him in a special box that he asked Usopp to make him so they're kept dafe. Will ask you to paint on the box so its extra special.

If you ever showed him any new sketches or doodles you've done, he'll beg you to let him keep them as well.

Whenever you draw him, he gets really happy and becomes even more hyper than normal. He'll be desperate shows everyone on the crew the doodles you've made of him.

Wants you to draw him doing literally everything, from going to the toilet and holding a bug to him as a bug and eating meat.

Repeatedly makes you promise you'll draw him reaching Laughtale and becoming King of the Pirates.

Luffy also boasts to everyone who will listen about you and randomly starts up conversations with strangers or his allies about you and your art supplies.

Frames everything...or he tries to before Nami tells him they have no space to store it all.

Carries some of drawings and doodles you've done of him everywhere so he can show off if he has a chance, he'll be fighting an old enemy and will pause to ask if they want to see something cool.

You have a fan in Crocodile now though who is quite invested in your art journey; but you're not sure if that's because of the rumours he's your boyfriend's parent or if it’s because the older man just enjoys art.

But if anyone was to interrupt or insult you by calling you a nobody or implying he deserves better, he'd go completely feral and has to be pulled away by you so he doesn't try to fight them.

Strong believer in earning the right to have dreams and earn a reputation for your skills so he doesn't really care if you're seen as a nobody (he still hates hearing it said to you or him though) because he used to be one as well when he started his journey.

Luffy is nothing but your biggest fan and he hopes everyone will one day see the same value and talent he sees in you.

Law acts like nothing you do effects him and that you don't get under his skin, but it's always obvious upon looking closely at him just how flustered he gets each time you hand him one of your drawings.

Will just say "thank you, it's lovely" or "thank you, you're so talented my love" and give you a kiss before putting it in his desk draw, showing he appreciates it but not on the same scale as Luffy or Kid.

However, you will later find your drawings pinned to his fridge or tucked away in medical textbooks as Law uses them for motivation to work hard so he can impress you in return.

Law struggles a little bit to show love for you, having lost so many loves ones so young but he tries his best to show through his actions that he thinks you're talented and that he really appreciates being given anything you do.

Gets drunk on one occasion and cries to you about how he's scared he'll forget what his family looked like overtime, then cries harder when you ask him to describe them so you can draw them for him.

Keeps the sketches of his family and Corazon on his desk, next to a drawing of you and him since he wants everyone he loves to be together in one place.

Very much a man who uses his actions to prove he loves you and sees your talent. He'll clear out some of his medical books for any books on art he can find and always makes sure he cares a sketchbook and materials for you in case you want to draw.

At the end of the day Law loves you for you, he doesn't care if you have no devil fruit or if you're perceived as a 'nobody'. He probably even prefers that you prefer quietly sitting nearby or on the Polar Tang because it means he always knows you're safe.

He's not like Luffy though and he will not try to fight anyone if they called you one to his face but he would threaten them and reassure you in private that you're not a nobody, instead you're the most important person in his life to him.

The king of insanely loud cringe worthy support and also gift giving back to support your hobby.

When you first show you like to draw, Kid would clear out some space in his workshop so you can have your own studio to quietly draw if need.

He sees quality time together as very important so he wants to quietly sit and do your respective hobbies together; pausing to show each other what you're both doing and exchange compliments.

Will try to copy any doodles you do and make metalwork versions out of them. Definitely makes you a necklace with a metal copy of a doodle you drew of you and him kissing.

Encourages you to paint on his bedroom walls if you want to and also to draw on tables.

Insists you sign all of your sketches and doodles so they're official.

Claims he needs to make sure he has the biggest art collection so that when you become famous he will be extra rich and he can add art collector to his long list of achievements (aka his crimes).

Definitely calls you the worst nicknames you've ever heard in your life, like his gorgeous talented artistic boopsie bear and the ball wrangler of all art. Genuinely means them as compliments to uplift you as well.

Loves giving you excuses to draw so he gives you awful prompts out of the blue and a time limit.

Kid will ask you to draw his crew so he can always have proof they sailed together and keeps those drawings in his bedroom.

Will try to frame everything he can like Luffy would, but he does have limits and eventually just invests in a big set of drawers designed for storing art.

Refuses to steal art supplies because he believes in supporting artists so he makes sure to take you art supply shopping and then leaves tips.

Casually has a very good reputation now in the art world and they all really admire you for winning him over with your art.

But thoughts and prayers for anyone who ever calls you a nobody, they're about to get beaten up almost to the brink of death. It's a bold decision to say anything about you in front of him.

Kid doesn't care if you're seen as weak or powerless and art is seen as the only thing you have going for you. He likes being able to keep you safe and protect you but recognising you're not strong (especially compared to him since he's literally a beast) is very different to seeing you as a nobody.

Zoro is probably such a mess when it comes to supporting your hobby but he's trying his best for you and at the end of the day you know he sees you as the most important person in his life.

I feel like the first time you draw something and give it to him, its a doodle of Chopper and him on a napkin at dinner and when you sheepishly give it to him as a way of showing your affection he'd accidentally use it.

Just so oblivious that he does not realise why everyone at the table is staring at him in horror and you look like you might laugh or cry. Eventually looks down and apologises so much when he notices, claiming the stains on it make it even more special because it adds to value??

Does not understand art at all.

Zoro can tell that you're talented though and recognises your passion so he tries his best to support you with verbal praises and his actions.

However, he's so emotionally constipated its insane; literally does not how to express his affection for you without either being a sassy little bitch or just coming across insane.

Like you could mention you like roses and he'll come back the next time you dock with a full rose bush he's torn out of someone's garden by its roots, but then say you can throw it away if you want. He's just a weird feral man.

He'd probably learn how to make paper so you could have drawing materials (he also has no money so he has to adapt to the obstacles ahead).

Commissions you to draw several new horrific wanted poster versions of Sanji to torment the blonde with. Sanji can't get mad at you though because he thinks you're talented and likes that you get to practise.

Is very similar to Kid and likes when you sit in the lookout nest and quietly draw whilst he trains beside you. He does pose a little because he knows sometimes you like to draw him and he wants you to get his best angles.

Tries to call you talented every time he talks about you or talks to you. Zoro is very verbal about how incredible you are.

Will not tolerate anyone calling you a nobody (he will beat them up if you want him too) and it hurts him the most if you call yourself one because he knows what its like to feel inferior to those stronger.

You don't need to fight anyways since you have him but if you want to learn he'll teach you in exchange for more horrific Sanji doodles.

Your talent is more then enough to eventually earn a reputation anyways so who cares if you can't fight or you're weaker.

King of pep talks and reminds you constantly you don't have to be strong to be important, you just need to believe in yourself.

No matter what he's always in your corner and supports you in his own silly weird ways.

buy me a coffee | ao3 | tiktok

[geraskierfanficprompts]

When Jaskier's angry or upset, it's always "Don't touch me!" "Get away!" "Hands off!" And then the bard will be gone for hours or days until he calms down.

Now, Geralt understands this kind of reaction. He himself doesn't want to talk to/be around others when he's angry. Much less let anyone touch him. The thing is...Jaskier acting that way never fails to make Geralt feel like shit. Jaskier is usually so affectionate that the sudden cut off is jarring. The first few times it happened, Geralt had been sure that Jaskier was fed up with him and leaving for good.

However, Jaskier always returns. They make amends, and the bard resumes his touchy, affectionate ways.

One day though, they have their worst argument yet. And although he had always come back before, Geralt is certain that this is the time Jaskier will leave forever. If Jaskier walks out that door, Geralt is sure he will never see him again.

So, unthinkingly, Geralt catches the bard's wrist.

Jaskier's eyes widen, panic replaces anger. "Geralt! Let me go! Let me go right now!"

Geralt loosens his grip reflexively in response to Jaskier's panic. Did the bard think the witcher would force him to stay?

He opens his mouth to try to explain.

Only, the world is...spinning? And Geralt's tongue is heavy. And everything is warm. Oh, he feels like he’s going to hurl.

Then, he passes out.

An unknown amount of time later, Geralt wakes. He feels kind of hungover but is otherwise fine. To his relief, Jaskier is sitting at his bedside.

When the bard notices Geralt is awake, he inquires after his health. At Geralt's reassurance that he is fine, Jaskier launched into a tirade about the number of times he had told Geralt "NOT TO TOUCH ME WHEN I’M MAD! AND THAT INCLUDES RIGHT NOW, YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH, YOU BASTARD!!!"

Geralt is a bit confused about how Jaskier being mad and his fainting spell are connected.

Two things are revealed:

1) Jaskier is part fae.

2) Some fae become toxic to touch when they are angry or upset. It is a magical trait, so it fades when the anger does. However, it can still be deadly.

This puts some things into perspective. Like how Jaskier, who seems to feel entitled to his emotions/reactions no matter how inappropriate they may be, is very skilled at cooling his temper. Or how, when he does become angry, he chooses verbal slander over physical violence. Or how when there IS a physical fight Jaskier wraps his hands in cloth and tries to use blunt instruments.

Bonus: Geralt tells all of the witchers not to touch Jaskier when he's mad, and Lambert takes that as a challenge.

I LOVE THIS!!!!!! OH MY GOODDDDDD!!! You take the things we spoke about and add onto it like putting glitter on a macaroni art craft, it's beautiful, It's so beautiful, oh my god! Poor Geralt thought his bard was leaving and poor Jaskier has to watch his stupid idiot Witcher touch him, gAH I love it! I want to read a 5k oneshot about it

[acergi]

Okay let me actually write about this a little bit cause it will probably come up in my writing. Some headcannons for post cannon:

Luz + Hunter spend the week in the Boiling isles and the weekend in Gravesfield. They both want to go to Hexside, which would require them being there during the week, but also have some sort of attachment to the human realm, so they wouldn’t avoid it completely.

There are probably days will Luz spends the day in the BI and then goes back to the HR at night, days that Camila comes and stays in the BI for the night as well (or the day if she has a day off). Camila wouldn’t always be in the BI on a day off or every night Luz is there because of Vee, who seems like she wants to stay in Gravesfield for the time being. This schedule is probably a big fluid, especially because Luz will probably have a working portal at the end (she has a key in Dana’s Nucleus gallery art)

Hunter stays at the Deamonne during the week, and the Noceda’s during the weekend with Luz. He was really happy in Gravesfield, but doesn’t seem to want to completely leave the Boiling Isles. He also probably has plenty of sleepovers at a friend’s house (also befriending King and Hooty). Best of both dadrius and Hunter Noceda

Eda starts teaching more people about wild magic. Maybe she teaches at Hexside, maybe she runs a camp at Knee, idk. Something where she teaches the next generation about wild magic (I really want to write about this but I’m still working it out)

Raine takes a pretty large role in reshaping the government. They are far to deep in now to stop. They tried to get Eda in too, but she said no. They also teach a free music class on the weekends to anyone who wants to take it (all ages). A lot of people do.

Darius (and maybe Eberwolf) also play a big part in the new government. Someone has to create a new system, and Darius has the public speaking abilities that Raine and Eber don’t. Hunter gives him books on government systems from the Human Realm (since Belos probably destroyed all remnants of previous governments), which he uses to help create something for the BI

Lilith becomes one of the lead historians, trying to correct the history of the BI from Belos’ lies. She also possibly mentors Hunter down the road (I think he may end up doing the same, or at least dabbling in it down the road). She refuses to take a large role in the government though because of her time as head of the Emperor’s Coven, and her realization that she was an ineffective leader and a figure head. She really likes her work in history, and writes a bunch of books about various topics, including Deadwardian life and architecture

Willow plays professional Flyer Derby, becoming one of the most popular players in the BI.

Gus becomes the ambassador to the Human Realm. He does not reestablish connection with the giraffes

Amity is unsure of what she wants to do in the future, so for now she just spends time with her friends. Maybe she opens a bookstore, or goes into engineering, who knows (she certainly doesn’t)

[royalarchivist]

Mike: I think I know you from somewhere very distant…

Amzet: Yeah, you know who I am? I do know who you are.

Mike: Bobby! Bobby!!! How are you, how are you Bobby? How long has it been?

Mike reunites with an old friend (in another universe)! :')

[creaturefeaster]

Wiiirrreeee, is there a swamp on theia?

Oh absolutely!

A very large portion of the lower east convex vertex in the focus continent is just a bunch of swampland. Along the rivers are a bit less stagnant but much older swampland, whereas the vast majority of land is stagnant overflood. Most of the water and plant life in the area is heavily endowed with the same magical essence you can find north west of the region, where Michael & his friends live.

A lot of the terrain is not considered habitable by most, and it's in these regions that you find a lot of plant people, treeple, fish people, pixies, or any other race that's heavily in tune with the earth & water.

[gardenvarietycrafts]

Yearly Round Up!

I finished a lot this year, so this is just the finished projects of the year, in collage form. These should all have their own posts on my blog, so look for those for details!

I'm really proud of all I accomplished this year, and I'm glad I could share this journey with you all!

[2hoothoots]

i've got a new short comic coming! it's taking way longer than i thought it would to finish, though, so here's the title page as a teaser

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by the effervescent @cordiallyfuturedwight and @jiminsproof for the november receipt <33 thanks lovelies!!

just a touch late to the party, but if you haven't already: @dearedwardteach @pauls-mccharmly @thvinyl @btscontentenjoyer @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @eoieopda @monismochi 💜 MWAH

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Hes so silly and we love him for it

[mokeonn]

Hey if you saw my mini-meltdown last night or you found this blog because the OP of a post reblogged from it and was not happy with me, this is the apology for that. If you're here because a bunch of terfs decided to hijack my trans positivity post, I'm not apologizing for that.

Last night I had a mini meltdown because I woke up to 4 messages that told me that 2 posts on this blog were basically not good. One is a trans positivity one where I talked about my experience with how womanhood is viewed and how it is used against trans women, the other was a tone deaf post of mine, I'm gonna apologize for having a meltdown on my blog of constantly posting and deleting and I'm gonna apologize for that post:

--

What I did was I reblogged a post about white gays acting a certain way and I added my 2 cents (I am a white gay) in the tags. The post was not for me, and my 2 cents wasn't helpful at all and just came off as "not like other girls". That's on me. I deleted it and I will not be addressing it any further because, well, what is there to address? I tagged a post in a very tone deaf way, and didn't listen to what was being talked about. My bad.

I constantly posted the anon hate and other little posts (as well as a not good apology) because I was not in a good headspace (or physical space) and I panicked from seeing that I fucked up (and "fucked up" according to the other post I'm not apologizing for) and was triggered into a meltdown. Does this excuse the above behavior? No. This is an explanation for any who might have seen my erratic behavior last night and why this apology took hours after I saw the post.

I will be clear, there's nothing more I can do than just acknowledge I did wrong and I won't do it again. This post is for any who I hurt or really... just annoyed in the process of adding my 2 cents where it doesn't belong. I know that some people might go to the op's reblog rant and find my blog so here is the explanation for that.

And finally, once again: because 2 posts I made are causing issues, this post is not nor will it ever be about my "cis people see womanhood as pain" post. If you have a problem with that post, I don't care.

[mellosdrawings]

The Princes

Ten years later. When marrying a Prince turns a Queen and a Servant into actual Royalties.

Because Vil deserves a real crown and Jamil deserves to be treated better.

NOW I'M GONNA RANT ABOUT MY CHARA DESIGNS CHOICES AND ALL THE DISCOVERIES I MADE WHILE LOOKING FOR REFS! If you only care about art and funny doodles, you can scroll down for a handful of slices of life.

(Don't worry if you can't read my notes, I'm repeating myself better right under this)

Leona

-Lion: As you may know, one of my grievances with Leona is how his hair doesn't look like an actual mane despite being a lion. While I don't want to stray too far from the canon design with the usual drawings, that's the occasion for me to have some fun with a future version. Give that lion a beard and voluminous hair!

-Hair: First, get those bangs out of his face. Despite Leona being very confident, he still has bangs covering his scarred eye. I wanted him to finally own the aspects of him that may be scary to others (his UM, his scar, etc). I actually went with bangs framing his face similar to the ones he had during his Overblot. I wasn't sure whether to give him dreadlocks or curly hair, but I ended up choosing the free curls decorated with some atebas and braids so that Vil could have more fun styling them.

-Eye: Thanks @aria-faye for the idea, I decided to have his eye gradually lose its capacities with time. From a headcanon that, while the eye wasn't directly touched by whatever attack scarred him, the process of healing still had an impact on it and he gradually lost sight in his left eye years after years.

-Body: Not giving him a dad bod (yet, maybe in another ten years), but definitely giving him more voluminous yet casual muscles. Practical muscles with a healthy dose of fat and tissues. Also giving him two full sleeves of tattoos because I decided he should have much more than just his lion tattoo.

-Clothes: Went full Maasai dressing and Kenyan fabrics and beadworks. If you're not familiar with it, please go check it out, it's GORGEOUS!! Crown is beadwork too. He also has one Arabic styled foot jewellery.

Jamil

-Hair: My first order was to remove his double-faced hairstyle and also remove his bangs from his eye. Make him confident enough to show his whole face. Unlike Leona and Vil, he doesn't really want a crown though (he still feels weird about becoming royalty) so instead he uses a braid as crown. Also gave him a little goatee because I like facial hair and Jafar has a beard too.

-Body: He grew up! While he didn't quite catch up with Leona and Vil, he is now closer to their sizes than before, sitting at around 180cm. He kept his breakdancer/martial artist lean muscles but developed a bit of shoulders.

-Clothes: Went full Arabic dressing and fabrics (once more, go check the fabrics, they are pieces of arts). I gave him floral motifs instead of his usual fire/snake motifs (though he does have a snake earring and a fangs necklace) to symbolise his rebirth/blooming. Like Leona, he has one piece of jewellery that is beadwork.

Vil

-Hair: Here it was a bit tricky. Considering Vil's work, he likely changes hairstyles a lot, going from long to short for his roles instead of his wants. So I leaned into the little things he could add to his hair despite their constant changes, mostly jewelleries, beadworks and wool decorations he stole from his husbands. He also cares a bit less about them looking perfect and is allowing himself to be more natural. He doesn't have any facial hair (yet), keeping a youthful appearance for as long as he can. In another ten years though, he might start looking more and more like his father, beard included.

-Clothes: For Leona and Jamil's mental states, the three of them most likely started living in Sunset Savanna so they wouldn't freeze to death. Vil is well traveled so he can handle most temperatures without trouble, and he is used to dressing up in the local get ups. Here I decided to give him both African dress and Arabic fabric, and likewise both beadwork and golden jewellery. I gave him crown and heart motifs so he can keep being himself despite borrowing a lot from his husbands.

There, I'm done rambling. Here's some doodles, followed by some random headcanons.

-Vil does his husbands hair every morning and keeps giving them more and more intricate hairstyles. He developed a whole haircare and beard-care products set for them.

-When Vil is away for a movie, Jamil keeps his hair mostly down save for a few accessories.

-Jamil and Falena get along surprisingly well (to Leona's despair). Vil gets along very well with Falena's wife.

-Jamil acts as a Scalding Sands ambassador and still is the one to care for Kalim when he comes to visit, though this time he's doing it because he wants to and not because he has to.

-Vil got used to his new title immediately but Jamil struggles with it a lot. He still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he is no longer a servant.

-The servants at the palace love Jamil because he always makes their job easier.

-Leona finally decided to put his wits to good use and became Falena's advisor. He still fights a lot with Kifaji about the direction to take with the country, but he managed to make some of his ideas heard to help with the staggering inequalities in the country.

That's all for now!

[littlenazzz]

“ closeted agere things! 🌸

* mostly targeting regressors who can’t regress freely for whatever reason <3

gear

- pacis can be hidden in stuffed animals! if you don’t feel like doing that you can use boxes for things like old phone boxes, old glasses cases, or anything that wouldn’t look suspicious or out of the ordinary!

- if you’re comfortable with wearing a mask and like using pacis, you can hide your paci behind a mask when you go out! You can even get a cute reusable mask to make you feel more small!

- instead of onesies, you could use some body suits! if it seems too suspicious to wear them alone, you could pair it with some shorts/sweats, no one can say a thing :) you can even find ones that are full body or have build in shorts!

- have a prepared response! try thinking of a well thought out excuse that can help you incase you get caught! try not to stress about it too much, though!

ordering

- ordering can be really difficult! trying to find a way to order gear when i was living with my parents was quite hard, and i couldnt find a lot of good advice on how to do it. the method that worked best for me was ordering it to a support friend or carer’s house!

- quite a lot of etsy agere-gear businesses have options for discreet shipping! the meaning for this can vary — whether they hide the gear in a small plushie or container or something, or they ship it and ensure that it reaches you and only you!

regressing

- this point is honestly harder to explain, especially because of how different every little can be from each other!

- if you regress to an older age, perhaps 7-10 or are a middle, then it can be easier for you to regress in public while causing minimal suspicion! (especially if you are high-functioning at those ages)

- involuntary regressors may find this a bit hard — i recommend trying a bunch of different exercises to get out of your headspace (only if you want to, or if you’re in a dangerous situation of course!) i have quite a few techniques that work for me; can make a post about that later!

little things that can make you feel smaller

- packing yourself a small snack when you go out! (eg. gogurts, small nut packets, chopped vegetables (or shaped veggies!), fruits, shape crackers, etc!)

- adult coloring books can be a bit hard to do when little for me, but some pages are pretty okay, especially when you’re trying to blend in :)

- having small plushie keychains!

- cute patterned socks! you can keep them hidden in long shoes, but if no one would question you, then you’re good!

- fidget toys

- using a water bottle with a straw!

that’s all for now! i just wanted to add, please please make sure you’re staying safe! i know gear can be tempting to buy, but if you’re in a situation where there’s no where to hide it and getting caught would compromise your safety, please keep that in mind! staying safe is way more important than anything else.

take care munchkins, buh bye! 🫧

[incognit0slut]

i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333

tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3

Home is whenever I’m with you

Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words

He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.

But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.

“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."

You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.

And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.

And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.

What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom? 

Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.

His mom is safe.

A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.

That’s good to hear. Is he fine?

Not great, but he's managing.

That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.

You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.

Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.

And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck

“Spence, what are you—”

Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”

“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”

“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”

You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.

“How’s your mom?”

He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”

Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”

He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.

“Do you want anything? Water, food?”

He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”

"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”

You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”

You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”

"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."

He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”

He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.

“You grew out your facial hair.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. 

You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."

“Really?”

“It’s growing on me.”

His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.” 

You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.

"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.”

"Why would you think that?”

He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”

You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”

You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”

He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”

You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”

He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."

He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.

“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”

You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.

“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”

He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.

You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.

You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.

Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.

[rottiens]

ਏਓ content. — boxer sukuna x childhood friend fem!reader. modern au, fwb, chocking kink, petnames (princess), no happy ending.

ਏਓ notes. idk i wanted to explore the idea of a jealous sukuna, unable to take control of a situation that gets out of his hands. reader may be read as a bitch,,, perhaps. but she is just as scared of her own feelings and ruin the friendship as he is ksjd felt i needed to clarify that.

Things had been weird lately. You assume that all unspoken situations end up like this at some point. At least, that's what you presume, because you've never found yourself in a position like this before. You haven't wanted to think about it too much, or at least not as deeply as the situation probably requires. You and Sukuna have been friends for several years now, and when you started this arrangement between the two of you, you made it very clear that there were no emotional ties, nothing that could bind you together enough to later separate you.

You were nothing more than friends hooking up, a deal implied from the very first time, right here in your room. The same place where it has happened over and over again. The room that holds your secrets, your shared laughter, tears and some heated arguments. It all started with a kiss that led to another, like the flutter of a butterfly unleashing a storm. The hunger of desire pushed you to sit on his lap, you were hungry and he knew how to feed you. So it has always been: you call and he comes.

Lately, however, the tension is different. Not the kind of tension you like, the kind where a simple glance can set your skin on fire, the kind of electricity that runs through even the boxing ring and makes you clench your thighs because you know what's coming next. What surrounds you now is an uncomfortable veil, laden with unspoken words that you both avoid, knowing that a conversation about it would only make things worse.

There's only one thing you're sure of: you don't want to overthink it.

Sukuna lets out a grunt of pain under the alcohol-soaked absorbent cotton. Out of the corner of your eye you notice how his hands, wrapped in white bandages, tighten and cling tightly to your thighs.

“Hold still,” you reproach him in a soft but firm tone as you lean over to reach for a band-aid on the bedside table.

Night has fallen, and you are both enveloped in the noisy calm of the city where the murmurs of other apartments and the distant bustle of the city seep through the walls. The atmosphere feels intimate, as if the outside world is just an irrelevant murmur compared to what is going on between you.

“ He really fucked you up, hm?” you murmur with a hint of concern in your voice. He growls low, resembling a dog that's been scolded, his brow furrowed as his red eyes bore into the wide cotton t-shirt you're wearing, especially the 'V' shape that exposes your collarbones and that little necklace hanging from your neck. You seem to notice, but decide to ignore how his gaze slides with restrained desire. “You never let yourself get hurt like that,” you add with a tone that mixes reproach and concern, pressing the alcohol-soaked cotton swab against his injured eyebrow.

“I was distracted,” he replies indifferently.

You gently push his shoulders to get a better look at him, noticing how he avoids your eyes, knowing you can read him all too easily. A black eye, a split eyebrow with a few fresh stitches, and a swollen lip; signs of a fight where he clearly wasn't in his best shape. “You weren't there,” he mutters, almost as if the confession escapes his lips.

So that's what this is about.

“I was busy with work,” you reply, trying to make it sound casual.

He emits a low sound, a deep purr that vibrates against your fingers as you continue to clean his wound. There's something in his tone that reveals a need he doesn't want to admit.

“I called, you weren't there.”

You sigh in exasperation.

“You're my watchdog now?” you tease, though behind the question lies a tension neither of you is willing to fully face.

“Are you fucking him?” the rawness of his question doesn't take you by surprise as it should. You knew this was going to blow up eventually, but still, the impact of his words causes an uncomfortable knot to form in your chest. You wonder if it was the shirt, visibly larger than you usually wear, that made him suspicious or if it was your growing coldness over the past few weeks. “You reek of him. Is that why you didn't come to see me, because you were fucking him?”

“Ryomen…” Your voice sounds like a gentle, almost motherly reproach, as if you're trying to stop a child about to get into trouble. Yet he receives it exactly that way: with a mixture of frustration and indignation, as if it's unfair of you to speak to him that way when all he wants is the truth.

“The fucking guy from your job,” he spits, his gaze piercing you with a mixture of anger and hurt that he rarely lets on. His hands are tense, knuckles white on your thighs.

The words hang in the air, heavy and toxic, mingling with the bitterness of everything unsaid between you. But deep down, you both know this goes far beyond simple jealousy.

Your tongue moistens your upper lip as you try to buy time, looking for the perfect excuse to deflect the conversation. But this time, there's no escape possible. You're trapped in his lap, his hands firmly gripping your ass, his face so close you can almost feel the heat of his skin.

“It just… happened. We have no strings attached, remember? It was what we agreed to. I thought we were both having fun.”

Sukuna lets out a bitter, dry laugh, laden with an irony that cuts through the air between you like a blade. His fingers sink harder into your flesh, making you aware of the tension coursing through his body.

“Do you really think I'm having fun right now?” he murmurs, his gravelly voice with an edge that cuts through you. The way his scarlet eyes pierce into you it's as if he's searching for something beyond your words, something even you don't know how to express. There's a restrained fury in his gaze, but also a hint of pain that you didn't expect to see. That glint that suggests that, perhaps, all this has gone further than either of you would dare to admit.

Your fingers slowly glide across the scarred skin of his shoulders, following the path of his tattoos, noting how each small movement tenses his musculature. You run down his naked torso, feel the warmth of his chest under your palms, then wrap your arms around his neck. You lean in close enough for your words to brush his lips in a whisper.

“Are you jealous, is that it? It's hard for me to tell when your boner is pushing against my ass,” you whisper to him with a mixture of mockery and desire.

Sukuna hates it when you use that tone, one that reminds him that, despite everything, he's always the one who ends up giving in to you. It's as if you have an invisible leash around his neck, and every time you pull on it, he comes without resistance. You lean a little closer, making sure his cock rubs directly against your pussy, barely covered by the thin set of panties you're wearing. The woody scent of the other man on your body confounds his senses, mixing rage, lust and something he doesn't want to name.

You hide in his neck, leaving a trail of kisses just behind his ear, that spot that always makes him lose control. Sukuna squeezes your ass cheeks tighter, pulling you even more into him, letting you feel every inch of his hardness.

“You have to talk to me,” you murmur against his skin, your teeth catching his lobe in a playful bite that makes his skin bristle. “I can't read what you're thinking.”

You know you're driving him crazy, that you're playing with fire, but you enjoy watching the cracks in his facade of hardness begin to appear and wonder how hard you can push before he snaps.

“Is this what you think I am to you, a dog you can call whenever you feel like fucking?” Sukuna spits out the words, his voice laden with a resentment he makes no attempt to hide. Every fiber of his body is still vibrating with the adrenaline of the fight just ended, and even though the physical battle is over, he still feels cornered, as if he's taking blow after blow.

Instead of responding with words, he lets his body do it for him. His hands scrape your skin, descending to your neck, squeezing gently to get your full attention. The pressure isn't enough to hurt you, but enough to make you focus on the burning that ignites in your clit, yearning to be rubbed and abused by those same hands that know exactly how to bring you to the edge.

“Is that what you want me to be?” he murmurs in a dangerous tone. “To let you use me over and over again? To make you cum on this thick cock until you're sobbing, crawling under me because it's too much?”

Your only response is a moan that escapes uncontrollably. You thrust your hips against him, seeking more friction, and he, despite his anger, begins to thrust from below, losing control over his own desire. This is what you needed, what you had forgotten in weeks without touching. Your nipples, hard and sensitive, are marked through the soft fabric of your t-shirt, begging for his mouth, for his teeth. There is always something about the way Sukuna holds you after he has humiliated you to the point of making you cum on his cock, an intimacy, that you find in no one else. It's that closeness that envelops you when he embraces you while you're still trembling after you've reached your climax.

“Answer me,” he growls, his fingers squeezing a little tighter, his voice demanding a confession.

“Yes… I need you to make me cum,” you murmur, unable to help the tremor in your voice.

Sukuna laughs, but it's not a kind sound. Your eyes widen in surprise when he lets go of your throat. The next breath you take is painful, immediately missing the pressure of his hand again.

Suddenly, he stands up, forcing you to be quick not to slip off his lap. Before you can process what's happening, he pulls on his blood-stained shirt, his movements calculated, as you stare at him blankly. “Jerk off and go to bed, princess,” he says coolly, adjusting his clothes without looking at you. “If you really wanna talk, come see me tomorrow after the fight. I'm leaving.”

With nothing more to say, Sukuna turns away, leaving the unresolved tension in the air and you with the feeling that, this time, the rules of your arrangement have changed forever.

[draconic-desire]

🔹 Oculus Infinitum 🔹

Yandere Satoru Gojo x Reader

He’s infinity; in comparison, you’re nothing. So of course using your cursed technique on him backfires.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied kidnapping, forced imprisonment, nsfw, non-con/dub-con, afab!reader, slight mindbreak

Infinity is often interpreted as the largest numerical magnitude to exist. And while that fact may be true in theory, infinity is better defined as the endless division of infinitesimally smaller and smaller values. One can be separated into half, half to a quarter, and so on, until the space between fractions almost ceases to exist.

Almost.

Gojo is a lot like infinity. Blame it on his technique, sure, but you suspect it runs much deeper than that. His actions never reach an end; instead, each one sinks further and further into your skin, fangs so small you barely feel them until it’s too late and the venom irreversibly invades your veins. He’s chipped away at you, piece by little piece, until you are the opposite of infinity; you are nothing.

On a surface level, most would say you have it pretty good. You (are trapped in) live in a huge home, filled with opulent furniture and all the luxuries you could ever want. You’re (expected to) allowed to cook meals for the two of you, including your favorite dishes. You still have (basic rights) privileges, such as free roam of the house, your own selection of clothes, access to the television and your phone (minus the ability to call or text, of course), even outdoor time with Satoru’s supervision. Why would you ever need to leave?

You had escaped, once.

Calling it an escape would be generous. Nothing ever happens without Gojo’s knowledge, without Gojo’s permission. How foolish you had been, to think you could evade his Six Eyes. Despite weeks of planning, he’d dragged you back home within the hour.

The chains hadn’t been removed for an entire month after that, and their lingering presence on each post of Satoru’s bed serves as a constant reminder that they’ll never rust.

Currently, you’re in the (not your, nothing is ever truly yours anymore) house’s lofty kitchen now, preparing dinner for his return home from work. Glancing up at the clock, you see it’s nearly time for him to arrive. You click the stovetop on and place a pot of water over the open flame, watching the blue fire flicker. Your thoughts immediately go to Gojo’s eyes, twin infernos of endless blue. Those eyes never seem to close, never seem to be too far from your own. They have the ability to lock you in place and throw away the key forever.

Moments later, the sound of the door opening and closing, along with the click of multiple locks, echoes from the hallway. Long, casual footsteps alert you to his presence behind you. His velvet voice, so languid and carefree, fans your ear as he settles his hands on your hips. “There’s my girl. Already making dinner for me?” He places a surprisingly chaste kiss to the top of your head. “Missed ya, baby.”

You add rice and a bit of salt and stir the pot in front of you in silence. When did you stop fighting him on that? On losing your full name to simple titles like girl and baby? The old you would have gagged at those pet names. The old you that kicked and bit the hand of your captor like a rabid animal, always fighting for freedom.

His grip tightens when you fail to immediately respond, though you hear him force a light tone to his voice. “What, curse got your tongue?”

Tension immediately floods your muscles. Gojo is a vain man; your silence maims his huge ego, something the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer will not stand for. You must react. “No, Gojo. I was just lost in thought, is all.”

You worry your lip when the quiet drags on. “I-I’m sorry?”

Gojo barks out a laugh, but his smile is strained and all fangs. “Back to Gojo again, huh?”

A mistake you notice too late. The spoon falls from your grip as you turn your head slowly. He’s still wearing his blindfold, but you know those infinite abyssal eyes are currently boring into your soul, daring you to speak. “Ah, no! Satoru, I mean—”

“Shh, baby. I get it.” His hands move to your shoulders, which he begins to massage. “Is it because you’re mad at me for neglecting you?”

To an outsider it may sound like he’s teasing, but you know all too well the creep of annoyance laced into his deepened, husky tone. “Or are you just being a brat?”

Swallowing, you place a hand on his toned forearm in an attempt to calm him. You feel him practically melt into the touch. “Truly, ‘Toru, I’m fine.” Your honeyed tone makes you sick, but you’ve learned it can subtly manipulate your captor in the right setting, usually this domestic fantasy world of his. “You’ve been so busy with work, and my mind has just been wandering. Why don’t you go sit while I finish up with the food?”

He hums absentmindedly, fingers swirling patterns across your abdomen. “I have a better idea…” Hot breath caresses your ear, eliciting a shiver. “Let me make it up to you.”

A deft hand snakes its way down the back of your bare thigh, barely ghosting across your skin. You can feel him, solid as a rock, yet you know there will always be space between you. He can touch you, but you’re powerless to do the same.

Just like in everything else, you can’t hold a candle to him. Your cursed energy is inconsequential, a tiny spark against his infinitive well of power.

Talk of your innate cursed ability is a topic you actively choose to avoid. Your technique, when activated, allows you to briefly control the thoughts and consequent actions of a single individual—but only after you’ve kissed them. And it often backfires tremendously, with the kiss causing overwhelming feelings of obsession or insanity in the receiver. From more than enough uses you’ve learned to see it as more of a curse in and of itself, and one you prefer to keep hidden.

Especially from the man behind you. Gojo—Satoru, you correct yourself—has enough twisted love that you wouldn’t dare try to possess his thoughts. The mere idea makes your throat tighten with panic.

Satoru’s technique, on the other hand, causes every nerve ending along your skin to explode as his hand falls beneath your skirt and skate across your barely clothed core.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he groans. “Are you wet for me, baby?” Before you can respond, Satoru easily moves your panties aside and spears you with his middle and ring fingers.

The invasion makes you jolt instantly. An involuntary gasp leaves you as he presses deeper, his fingers sheathed to the knuckle. You hate how your walls immediately tighten around him, slick with your arousal. No, you don’t want this, but Gojo gives you no choice in the matter but to practically ride his hand as he lifts your skirt with his other hand to get a better view.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” His thumb passes over your clit, pulling yet another shameful moan from your lips. Your tense demeanor only causes your pussy to accidentally squeeze him tighter, spurring him on. You try to pull your thighs together, but Satoru wrenches them apart easily with his other hand. “Oh, no, none of that. This pussy is mine.”

You squirm, grasping for something to get you out of this mess. “Satoru, stop, the food will burn—”

“Forget it,” he commands, ripping your skirt off. “We’ll order takeout after.”

Your heart drops. “After…?”

“Aw, you thought I’d stop here?” His condescension floods your ears. “No, babe, I’m only just getting started with you.”

His persistence, like infinity, has no end.

Without warning, Satoru removes his fingers from your core and swings you over his shoulder, smacking your bare ass and wrenching a yelp from you. You blanch when you realize he’s carrying you to the bedroom.

“Wait, Satoru—!”

You are unceremoniously thrown onto the bed, said white-haired sorcerer towering above you. He pounces immediately, locking your limbs in place. Satoru must see the fear, the readiness to engage in fight or flight, across your face, because he brushes a tender hand across your cheek to wipe away a tear you didn’t realize had fallen.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he teases, but it somehow sounds like a threat. His fingers, still coated with your arousal, hook around your thong and slide it down your legs. “You’re acting like this is our first time or somethin'.”

Oh, it was far from the first time that he had touched you or been inside of you. But something about today, about this time, sends fear skittering across your whole being. Perhaps it’s all the reminiscence lately, or the fact that your thoughts drifted to your innate technique for the first time in weeks. Panic sinks its claws into you.

Breath ragged, heart pounding, you grab his face in both hands and react without thinking; for the first time since he kidnapped you, you willingly kiss Satoru Gojo and activate your technique.

Satoru immediately reacts, deepening the kiss and pressing you more firmly into the mattress until you feel as if you’re nearly suffocating.

Release me, you project into his mind, threading a hand through his white locks and squeezing hard.

The world suddenly goes very, very still.

Satoru freezes. Slowly, painfully, he parts his lips from your own and straightens his arms against the mattress to hover above you once more. His breath comes out in jagged huffs. The only sound that remains is the unending tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall, bringing you closer to your doom.

For a second, you almost believe your technique worked.

That is, until he quickly sheds his blindfold, and you are meet with those stunning, terrifying, brilliant, paralyzing blues. He whispers your name with a foreign stillness that chills your bones to ice. “Do you…have a cursed technique?”

What an idiot you are to have thought you could sneak past Satoru Gojo’s barriers and Six Eyes. You can’t touch his physical form; why would his mind be any different?

It takes all of your willpower to withhold the panicked, hysterical laugh threatening to escape you. “Look, I can explain—”

Satoru leans back on his knees, one hand carding through his hair as he looks up to the ceiling. “God, babe, I knew you could see curses and harbored cursed energy, but here you go surprising me!” He laughs, a gleeful chuckle that has you reeling.

“You’re not…mad?” you dare to ask, inching your knees towards your chest. Maybe your technique failed, but you can still buy some time and get into a safer position.

Satoru gazes down at you, head tilted and a full grin on his lips. “Mad? Baby, why would I be upset when for the first time in our relationship, you were the one seducing me?”

Oh, no. No no no no no.

Grabbing your ankle, he drags you back to a supine position, your pussy on full display for him. He licks his lips at the sight. “Plus, you trying to get inside my head was cute and all. Weak, but you gave it your best!” He laughs again, and you realize that he never took you seriously, not even for a second.

The thought should enrage you—it would have infuriated the old you—but all you can manage now is a low whine as his hands go for his belt.

Satoru pulls himself free, his already hard cock pulsing in anticipation. Precum beads at the tip as he lines himself up with your entrance. “What was it you asked me for? Release, right?”

Your eyes bulge at his implication. “Wait, Satoru, I didn’t mean—!”

You barely have time to react as he buries himself in you completely. A choked sob bubbles up your throat as you breath through the stretch of him.

Satoru moans in ecstasy as he begins a steady pace, thrusting mercilessly into that squishy spot deep inside your core that has you seeing stars.

“Kiss me again.” It’s light and breathless, but it’s an order, not a request. Fear makes you comply immediately, though your kiss is a hesitant, timid thing compared to your earlier attempt to sway him.

He’s having none of that. No, Satoru had a taste of your affection, and now he’ll tolerate nothing less than your full reciprocation. If only you could truly peer into his mind and see that no amount of your cursed energy would change him; your being was already permanently imprinted on his brain. You were his perfect doll, held in the palm of his hand.

Nails rake down his back as you arch against the mattress. Every time he thrusts, he grinds against your clit, and you feel yourself chasing your finish. You hate this, you want it to stop, but you can’t help—

“Please, Satoru,” you plead without thinking, meeting his limitless eyes. You feel yourself drowning in them, a blue sky that never ceases.

For a split second, his rhythm hesitates. “…Say that again,” he whispers, almost reverently. “Beg for me.”

You’re not quite sure what you’re asking for. “P-please, I can’t take it anymore, please let me—!”

“Choose your next word carefully,” he warns, voice shifting to a low growl as his hand moves to your throat, adding ever so much pressure.

Tears streak your vision. The embarrassment of your technique failing and the lewd position he has you in all crash down upon you, and another piece of you breaks. “Please let me cum,” you concede.

To your dismay, his pace slows, and you cry out in protest as your orgasm fades. “I just need you to do one more thing for me, baby.” He leans into your neck, nipping and sucking at all your sensitive spots, torturing you even further. “Tell me you love me.”

Alarms should be blazing through your head, but the fog of your arousal clouds your judgement as you seek your climax.

That piece of your soul he took shatters into a million shards as you whisper, “I love you, Satoru.”

The two of you shatter simultaneously. You register all too late the warmth invading your core as Satoru pumps his cum deep inside you.

He’s never come in you before.

Your name is murmured over and over like a prayer against your neck—or maybe it’s a curse. You jolt in overstimulation when he pulls out and bends down to place a kiss against your puffy folds. “So good for me, baby. This perfect pussy belongs to me.”

He kisses you a final time, long and slow. When he pulls away, a languid smile sweeps across his features. “You’re all mine, (Y/n). Even your mind.”

With the use of your innate technique, you’ve dug your own grave for good. Satoru will never let you go now.

After all, infinity is indivisible.