#as someone who has a scar on their face

[lover-of-mine]

I am team 'buck should have kept his facial scars from the tsunami'

I see what you mean and I agree with you at some level, but I think the point of him getting the cuts on his face was more for us to think about the blood thinners at all times, so they didn't think about committing to the possibility of facial scars, but I also think at some level the choice to just make them vanish was more about not forcing Oliver to forever have to sit in makeup for a few hours to give him scars every day, I think it was more of a matter of convenience. But it would be interesting, it is a bit of a pet peeve of mine the way characters never scar, like, Buck would have some of them for sure, and this could be interesting if they went for it.

[beevean]

crying because I found out about Isaac's ass tattoo. WE COULD'VE HAD THAT!? COWARDS. COWARDS, WE COULD'VE HAD THAT BUT NOOOOOOO. Have a berry? EAT MY ASS.

Do you want to suffer even more? :)

This is how N!Isaac could have looked:

Look at that. Look at that glorious redhead BDSM slut. We could have been graced with that, one saving grace. But no. They castrated Isaac to save budget because man those tattoos are the nightmare of every artist make him palatable for the masses. Cowards and weaklings, the lot of them.

... jokes aside, I genuinely don't know why they shaved him, but gave him bright red eyes. You'd think the artbook would explain the process of its design. And you'd be wrong.

Also! Isaac's tattoos make perfect sense for him and his relationship with alchemy and blasphemy. What are N!Isaac's tattoos supposed to mean? They are just random lines and dots. Aren't those forbidden by Islam, too? I swear, his design makes no sense and it's boring to boot. No one can match Kojima's freak :(

[sufficientlylargen]

The US government has known about the existence of extraterrestrials for decades, the problem is that when we made first contact the aliens said "We come in peace" and the human responding said "Thanks, you too" without thinking and so the US built a giant signal jamming facility at area 51 and every other time they've tried to contact us we just pretend not to notice.

[dragonsdendoodles]

WAIT THIS IS ABOUT YOUR LAST POST/REPLY ABOURHUGH, HES DESCRIBED AS MOON FACED IN BOOK TWO 😭💞

YEAH THATS WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT!!!! :D

[cuteniarose]

It’s almost 6 a.m and I can’t sleep because I’m being plagued by thoughts of The Latest OC

[astranauticus]

ok i like rushed through the whole orv webtoon way too fast so now i have thoughts going in like 5 different directions but ep121-123 drive me so fucking insane actually. every time i think about those two conversations i have to sit down

[ancha-aus]

NewAgeAU Drabble - Change in Management

A little idea I had in the back of my mind. @spotaus

Exploring how and when Ccino was promoted to Head of House. (And how Cadet Rogers went from Cadet to Captain)

Warning: Harressment, Nearing assault but not actually happening, Degrading language, Victim blaming, Murder.

The warnings may be a bit much but I want to be sure and on the safe side.

Timeline wise? This is only two weeks or so after Nightmare became king.

*---------------------*

Ccino rushes down the hall as he checks another room. Dirty again and stuff stolen again.

If it keeps going like this the castle is going to be completely empty.

In the last two weeks many of the people helping and working in the castle had been leaving. All following the ascension of Nightmare.

Ccino doesn't know what to do. Rules of before and argreements of before are making it possible for processes in the castle to keep moving but...

Nightmare locked himself away. The only time Nightmare would leave would be when Ccino would suddenly find him in front of the door to Ccino's room. Breathing quickly and looking panicked.

That together with the fact that Dream had refused to speak to anyone.

It is a matter of time before something has to give and Ccino is afraid to see what it will be.

He is... trying to manage things as best as he can. Ccino doens't think he is doing a good job so far. Sure things are still running smoothly and he is keeping past deals and agreements going. But it is a matter of time before he does something that messes everything up.

But... Ccino doesn't want to force Nightmare to confront anything he isn't ready for yet. Ccino knows other people want Nightmare to speak to them or do things as king but... Nihgtmare is overwhelmed and still scared... So Ccino had been trying to do things for him while he can.

Ccino rushes around another corner before frowning at the very loud laughter down the hall, there are empty bottles of wine all over the place.

If the workers and people in the castle had been leaving, the guard has eben getting a bit too comfortable within the castle. They are using and grabbing things they have no right to and making a mess of many of the rooms. All while being rude to the few people Ccino had managed to convince to stay and help.

Ccino doesn't like them all here.

"Ccino. I wouldn't go there if i were you. Captain Falks is having antoher round with some of the other guards." Cadet Rogers looks very annoyed and disapproving as he glares into that direction.

Honestly? Cadet Rogers had been the biggest help these last two weeks. Ccino would want to do soemthign or need soemthing? Rogers would pull the few strings he had or talk with people he knew to help get things.

Everything is limited of course. He is but a cadet and Ccino is but a servant. But any little bit helps and any help is welcome.

Ccino sighs and nods "Thank you for the warning. I do not want to deal with the Captain."

Captain Falks had been... unnerving. When it became clear that Nightmare wasn't going to punish Ccino for stepping in after the ritual and for taking some comment Falks had been distant for a while.

But lately he had been jumping out at him and seemingly everywhere that Ccino went.

Ccino had even spotted the captain near some of the servant quarters and pathways and Ccino is very thankful for his more secret tunnels.

Ccino has been spending nights in the library as the captain had been hanging around his room as well.

Ccino is... uncomfortable. It makes him feel uneasy and reminds him too much of how Nim used to look at him. Later on, when it was getting closer and closer to the ritual. She had muttered something about Ccino having fit her type and Ccino still feels gross just thinking about it.

Rogers nods as he leans against the wall looking very annoyed "It is hard enough to keep people out with everyone pulling their weight. With how he is acting you would think he owned this place instead of worked here." He huffs.

Ccino snorts and nudges him "Not everyone can be as loyal as you."

Rogers grins back and snorts "For all my loyalty I am still not anywhere near you." He glances around the hall ans whispers softly "Is our king okay? feeling better yet?"

Ccino weights his words as he tries to remain diplomatic "He has... his ups and downs..." Many more downs than ups.

Rogers frowns but nods "Sounds rough." Something crashes in the distance and Rogers sighs "I will go make sure they don't break something precious. I will try to clean up what I can. Good luck with your work."

Ccino laughs "Thanks I will need it." Though if the guards are having a aprty here he can check the storage and taken inventory to see what he needs to trade when the merchants visit again. Ccino turns around and returns to a pilar which he disappears into, one hop down he is in one of the tunnels and rushes towards his destination.

----

He is so tired. He isn't even sure how much he slept the last week. The guards are getting more and more rowdy which makes it much more difficult for Ccino to do what he can.

Three weeks and counting now. People are starting to take notice that Nightmare hasn't shown his face yet. Rumours are starting about Nightmare going mad. Of Nightmare having died.

Ccino had to manage an actual meeting with the council. He lied through his teeth that Nightmare had been reading all the past contracts and planning the next big step for the kingdom. It was a bad lie but at least is bought him time.

If Nightmare appears again Ccino will just say that in the quick rereading that Nightmare did he didn't manage to find anything that needed immediate improvement.

Ccino walks down the hallway as he rubs his sockets. He had been up since before runrise and he doens't go to bed until the moon has reached its highest point in the sky.

It is starting to wear him down. Enough that he doesn't even feel the ever present hunger anymore.

Tha tis probably a bad sign.

But it is okay! He just needs to make sure that Nightmare gets through this and that is it! Then Nightmare will be happy and content. Than Ccino can focus fully on Dream and help him and then once both twins are happy he will be done!

And... Neither Nightmare or Dream will need him anymore... want him around anymore...

That thought makes him sad but Ccino can't let it affect him. Ngihtmare admitted that feeling eveyrones emotions overwhelm him and Ccino isn't going to make the burden even worse.

He turns a corner as his mind tries to figure out what is next on the ever growing to do list-

"Ccino!! It is about time you came by!"

Unease and anxiety as he knows that voice. Captain Falks grins widely as him as he puts an arm around his shoulders, the hand holding tightly to one of them with those talons pressing against his bones, and Ccino is pulled along to the large group of guards not far away.

Shit he had thought this hallway would be fine. He thought they had still been in the cellar!! A glance down shows many bottles of wine and ale all over the place.

Falks smirks and leans close "I have been looking for you! Very rude of you to not be here when i have a need of you."

Ccino feels anxious as he can smell the alcohol in the other's breath and hears some other guards chuckle. "I apologise... I have been working on tasks for our king."

Falks snorts before he chuckles to himself "And what a good king he is! Hiding away as he knows it will be obvious he is weak. A fallen god. The long lineage of power and prosperity ruined."

Ccino feels insulted on Nightmare's behave "Our king has a reason to prepare and plan. He will be leading us to a time of thriving very soon." Ccino has faith in Nightmare. He knows Nightmare will be a good king.

Maybe not the most powerful or the best. Or maybe not even as successful as those before him.

But he will be a good king. And that is much more important.

Falks laughs as he grabs his chin and tilts it towards him with a grin "Oh you are so stupid and naive. Then again you are just a small servant who tries his best." he chuckles as he pats his cheek.

More chuckles around him as Ccino feels more panicked. He is much too close. He doesn't feel safe.

"Captain!"

Falks pauses and looks over before sighing "Rogers. Weren't you suposed to do rounds?"

Ccino glances at Rogers and Rogers looks downright panicked as he looks at the scene. He sees Ccino look at him before he salutes as he stands straight "I just finished my rounds sir!" He glances around nervously "What is the situation?"

Falks grins as Ccino feels a hand trail lower and Ccino feels his soul spin fearfully. Oh no. No no no no.

Falks raises a brow "You were always an idiot. Go clean up something or whatever. I got some fun to have." Falks turns to him and Ccino doesn't like that look. "Now. I know for a fact that skeletons are suposed to be able to magically form whatever." A hand grabs his pelvis through his clothing and the panic increases tenfold "So make yourself useful. I want something soft and tight. Get to it."

Ccino struggles to pulls away but there is no escape. Falks is a trained guard and has the strength to back him up. The only thing Ccino has got going for himself is stamina from all the runnign around and a great sense of balance. Neither useful right now!

"Captain! This is wrong!" Rogers glares at Falks "Our king will be very displeased about this!" Rogers speaks with confidence.

Falks laughs loudly as some other guards chuckle along "You can't seriously believe that that failure will do anything. That thing will remain in that little private study. Reading to himself for the next how many years. I in the meantime have taken what is rightfully mine!" He waves around "The castle, the riches, everything." He grins at Ccino "And while the old king made it very clear you were offlimits... that is gone now. And I must say, you grew into a very pretty little whore. I am going to enjoy making you scream." He grins "It will be even better than giving you those lashes. Leaving marks all over that pretty body."

He feels sick. He thought... He thought!! With Nightmare being king. He wouldn't. This wouldn't. He thought this wasn't how things would go!

Rogers reaches for him but one of the guards, a bird monster with sharp claws, scratches Rogers with its talons and Rogers grabs his face, it is bleeding badly.

Falks grins "How about you go be useful, and learn this lesson well Rogers. Only the strong or smart survive. But those who are both rule." He turns to Ccino and Ccino loses sight of Rogers "Where were we?"

A hand goes into his pants and Ccino struggles even worse. "L-let go!" his voice stammers as he struggles. What does he do?

A hand holds his throat and it hurts. The ground hits his back and his whole spine and ribcage light up wiht pain as he remembers the lashes. How each one burned and stung.

Falks grins as he leans over him "Now. I think I already told you what to do and make."

Ccino stammers through the sentence "Can't!! Magic doesn't!" The panic is real but maybe. Maybe the past food shortage finally has its use. If it means he just can't shape his magic into what Falks want... He will let go right?

Right?

Falks frowns as he uses some of the magic he possesses. Enough to sense magic if Ccino remembers correctly.

Falks glares as he hand grows tighter around his throat "Are you kidding me?! The only thing you are good for and you can't even do soemthing as basic as fuck?! What the fuck is wrong with you? How misshapen and broken are you even?!" He pauses and grins madly "Then again... There are other tools for this. Maybe some liquid courage will help your magic do what it is suposed to. Please me."

He feels sick. He can't move. His body is so tired and he hurts.

Falks grins as he leans back "Now, we are going to fuck. You will beg me for more and once we are done you will return to me every night until I dismiss you." He grins "I am the one you should serve and want to keep happy."

Ccino is going to throw up. He probably would have already if that hand wasn't holding his throat. It hurts. He is scared. What does he do?

"Now. Open wide and- ugh."

A loud squish followed by a splatter and continues dripping.

Ccino's front feels wet and he dares open his sockets only to stare.

A large black metal seems to be impaling Falks. Falks stares in shock down at it as well.

The metal seems to curl and Falks groans in pain as he is raised into the air.

Nightmare stands behind him. Glaring with an enraged look straight at the captain. Then he throws the captain into the wall and Ccino realises that the black metal is actually one of those tentacles.

Rogers is by his side in a moment, face still slashed open and dripping blood, and helps him up "I am sorry I took this long to return. Are you okay? Did he do anything?"

Ccino is shaking as he looks confused. What... He turns to Rogers "What?"

Rogers looks unsure "I... I didn't know what to do. I was unsure how to stop them or make them see reason... I... I wasn't sure... I went to our king and... when I mentioned you were in danger he left his study and followed me back."

Ccino stares before slowly looking over before feeling sick to his stomach in a different way. Nightmare is standing over the broken body of Falks. His feaths are all ripped out and his chest and stomach are ripped open. Some of his organs are partway out.

The bird monster is still alive as Nightmare stands over him. The other guards stare in fear at Nightmare.

Nightmare has a snarl on his face.

Ccino struggles to push himself upright and Rogers stops him "Ccino. You are hurt. You need to not move."

Ccino shakes his skull as he stares at Nightmare slowly advancing on the others. Seeing them makes him uncomfortable. none of them tried to help him when he needed it... Not that it surprises him. He is a nobody. He isn't important.

Even more of a reason for Nightmare not to hurt anyone else. Nightmare shouldn't have to dirty his hands like that... for soemone like him.

He manages to get up and staggers over to Nightmare. He puts ahand on his shoulder and Nightmare's full focus shifts to him.

Ccino honestly doesn't have the words. everything hurts. He is tired. He just wants to sleep. He just shakes his skull at Nightmare.

Ngihtmare pants heavily as he glares at the guards. His tendrils still shoot out and Ccino flinches at the sound of broken bones.

Nightmare pulls back and one loud squish later and Falks falls apart as he dusts fully.

Nightmare pants before turning to Rogers "Rogers. Correct?"

Rogers nods and salutes. If he was unnerved he is doing an amazing job not letting it affect him.

Ngihtmare stares before a sharp grin appears on his face "Congratulations on your promotion. Captain Rogers. Your new focus will be pulling the guard back into gear."

Rogers sputters and looks shocked "I... my lord... what?"

Nightmare doesn't pay much attention to it "Fire them. Kill them. End them. I don't care. If any of them hurt my Head of House ever again it will not be as merciful as this end had been."

Rogers looks unsure before giving a deep bow "My king. I fear others will not believe I have been entrusted with such a high position."

Nightmare looks annoyed but nods "Unsurprising. I will make an announcement for all tomorrow. Make sure to spread the news. You are the new Captain."

Rogers nods "I will my king. And... about the... head of house?" he sounds confused by this name.

Nightmare nods "Head of House. When I am unavailable or unreachable. Every single decision or comment will have to be approved by my Head of House." he looks at Rogers "In short. Ccino."

The way he makes it sound. Like it is a fact. Like it is logical.

Rogers nods as he bows "I will start spread the news and ensure people are at the meeting." He looks anxious at Ccino "Do... Do I... Should I bring Ccino to the healers first?"

Ccino feels everything in him tense up as panic returns. No. He can't. He can't deal with that.

Nightmare's eyes are on him. He is staring at him before shaking his head "It has been proven that I can trust very few people in my castle. I will ensure the safety of my Head of House myself. I entrust you to... clean out untrustworthy guards."

Next thing Ccino feels is that he is picked up. It is as if he weights nothing! He feels weightless as he just lays in the tentacles. Now soft and squishy as they hold him over the sharpened form that pierces a monster as if it is nothing.

Nightmare gives them all one more look before turning.

They don't go to Ccino's room. They don't go to Nightmare's study. Instead they end up in Nightmare's room itself as Nightmare helps him lay on the bed.

Nightmare stares at him "How... how often did they?"

Ccino does not want to have this conversation... But Nightmare is the king. He should be made aware of how the guards treat servants and maids like Ccino.

Ccino sighs "It... it is a long story Ni- my king." He almost messed up and forgot to use Night- his king's title. He needs to remain focussed. He needs to pull himself together.

It is fine! Falks didn't even actually do anything. Ccino is being dramatic and unreasonable.

His king shakes his skull "Please Ccino. Just Nightmare. Always just Nightmare for you."

This is a mess. Ccino just knows it is his fault. He messed stuff up. He must have done something to make let Nightmare believe Ccino is somehow worthy of speaking the kings true name. He isn't important like that.

Nightmare frowns as he searches his closet "I have some outfits. Maybe one of them will be able to serve as comfortable to help you rest." He returns to his side.

Ccino is at this point prepared to just sleep in his clothes. Even so. He lets Nightmare pick something for him and lets the other help him into the other outfit before he returns to bed.

Ngihtmare joins him quickly after and pushes himself into Ccino's arms "I will do better... I apologise Ccino. I should have... I should have been better."

Ccino feels his soul break as he holds the other. He hums softly as he holds hims clsoe "None of it ever was your fault Nightmare. None of what happened. I... I will tell you tomorrow... How things were before... But for now I just wish to sleep." He is so tired.

Ngihtmare nods as he keeps holding him "Of course. Please get all the rest you need."

Ccino sighs as he closes his sockets. He is safe here. Nightmare would never hurt him just like Ccino would never hurt Nightmare.

He will have to consider what he can and can't tell Nightmare. How much he will tell of how the guard treated him and his fellow servants.

He will have to make sure Nightmare doens't worry unnecessarily about him.

But for now he can rest. He can sleep.

Maybe tomorrow will be better... Maybe it will be worse.

Either way it is alright. He can hold on for Nightmare.

Just a little longer.

He is fine.

[goodeye-cyborg]

The actual real problem with being a 🤢 creative person 🤢 is that my brain will absolutely not let go of this godawful idea for a visual novel about chimpanzees go. I do not want to make a visual novel about chimps.

[sofargoneao3]

I’m a Remus Lupin doesn’t have visible scars truther

[dirt-str1der]

Whatever

[lostandbackagain]

it only lasted like 5 pages but I really prefer dustfinger's scars being disfiguring rather than "drawn on with a pencil"

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

The truth is that we need a based author to write an otome game isekai story about a trans guy getting trapped in the body of the "villainess" only to realize that the """villainess""" was just a closeted trans guy struggling in a rigidly gendered society. He fakes his death to escape the original storyline and runs away to start living as a man, maybe using magic or help from a supportive party to transition. Cut to some time later when he is dragged back into the original drama, but none of the other characters recognize him and treat him as a stranger. And perhaps as a rival? 👀👀👀 for the female lead's affection????!!!! 👀👀👀👀

[milfdarthrevan]

#reblogging my own posts#free to use#everyone should check out the notes on this post yall have great ideas#silmarillion#elves#valinor#bonus points: no one ever officially cancelled the decree making Formenos and its surroundings the lands of Feanor and his kin#Caranthir ir Amrod or whoever is now the liege lord of several thousand people he never met#they mostly think it's cool - a real Ancient Kinslayer in the ruined city! how Authentic (tm)!#they don't really listen to his orders but will help clean out a house for him and pay some taxes/admittance fees to the theme park#and sure he can represent them in council in Tirion if he wants; they've all been ignoring the city and will continue to do so

Elves born in the Second and Third Ages are used to having the ruins of earlier eras scattered around the landscape being Aesthetic, and are disappointed that there aren’t any in Valinor.

So they deliberately build cities, attack them with siege weaponry, and abandon them. It only takes around two hundred years to get that Haunted Vibe!

[tonycries]

Unmistakably Yours - G.S.

Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.

Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.

He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.

Because you weren’t here.

“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 

Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 

With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-

“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”

“Where is she?”

---

It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 

Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 

Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 

One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?

Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 

God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-

That was when you felt it. 

The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 

You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 

Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.

“My love?”

Satoru.

It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 

Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 

All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 

A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 

“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 

It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 

Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 

“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 

He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-

Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.

Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.

You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 

Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 

“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”

Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 

Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”

There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 

Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.

Shit. He’s lost it.

Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 

Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.

Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?

Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.

The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.

But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.

Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.

Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-

“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”

With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 

“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”

You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 

“But-”

“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”

Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.

Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”

“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”

And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 

Rip!

It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 

He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 

“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”

That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”

Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 

And it was so unfair. 

Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 

And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 

Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 

And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 

“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.

“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”

He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 

“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”

You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 

But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.

Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 

“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”

And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.

You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 

“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 

But it wasn’t fast enough. 

Not for Satoru, at least.

Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-

That cheat. 

You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 

Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 

“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 

One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 

Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 

Desperate. Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 

And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 

“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 

Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 

Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 

You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 

You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”

“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”

“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 

He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 

And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 

God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 

And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 

“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”

“But-”

God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 

Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 

Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 

It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 

“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.

He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.

Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.

“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”

You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”

“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”

And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 

If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 

“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.

And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”

At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 

Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 

“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.

It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.

“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”

And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 

Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 

Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-

“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”

Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”

And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.

Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 

And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.

Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.

“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”

It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 

“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 

And then it’s black. 

---

“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”

Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 

And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.

Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?

“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”

A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[hershelwidget]

Encouragement

Gonna be thinking about “I’m kind of beautiful, in a terrible way.” forever and ever

[readwritealldayallnight]

You had never seen him look so utterly human before

Laid up amongst the scratchy, thin sheets of the hospital bed, with only a plain surgical mask covering the bottom half of his face, everything else above Ghost’s shoulders exposed to your eyes for the first time, while his own eyes have been shut for nearly four days straight now

You had never seen your Lieutenant without the signature mask that haunts the dreams of even the deadliest foreign mercenaries, had never seen him look anything less than intimidating, commanding, powerful without so much as even trying to, his presence alone striking fear into those who’ve heard whispers of the fearsome Ghost

Now however, with an IV hooked up to his arm and a nurse that comes to check on his vitals periodically, it’s hard to picture him as such a gruesome soldier, rather than a simple man who bleeds like any other human

In spite of the evident vulnerable position he finds himself in, his pale skin appearing nearly translucent under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital, there was no denying that Ghost remained someone to be feared

A particularly nasty blow to the head during a field op gone wrong had knocked the burly soldier out cold, and though doctors were optimistic he would make a full recovery, they couldn’t exactly tell the extent of the damage done until he woke up

You and the men that made up the remainder of the 141 had been taking turns remaining by his side, not wanting for Ghost to wake up alone, whenever that would be exactly

You wonder how he would feel about this, the fact that you are currently the one on shift for the unofficial rotation of visitors who’ve stuck by his bedside throughout his injury

You’re well aware of the fact that the Lieutenant doesn’t like you, has never liked you, and probably never will, though you’ve never been able to get a straight answer as to why

From the moment you’d met him, he’d been cold to you, distant, making no effort to get to know you nor welcome you to the team, opposite to the way the Sergeants and Captain had welcomed you with open arms and hearts

No matter how much you poked and prodded at them for an answer, some sort of inclination as to what you could possible have done wrong to have Ghost dislike you so much, the men always bit their tongues

You saw the way they exchanged knowing glances and sly smirks, believing they were being more cunning than they really were, insisting to you with carefully chosen words that it wasn’t something you should worry about too much, that the LT had a different way of expressing his feelings than most

“So long as he doesn’t wake up and want to ‘express his feelings’ by punching me in the face for being the first thing he opens his eyes to.” You thought to yourself, glancing up from your book at his still sleeping form, shaking your head at your silly thought

No, he’d never been particularly kind to you, but he’d also never gone out of his way to be cruel to you either you supposed

Perhaps he found you to be more of a nuisance than anything else, a pest he couldn’t seem to swat away hard enough, an annoying pimple he couldn’t quite pop

Your eyes scanned over his face once more, cursing whatever Gods might be listening that the man hiding beneath that Ghost facade had to be so … intriguing

You could see old scars running across his face, some of them peeking out from under the surgical mask while others ran across his brow, his crooked nose evident even under the fabric of the mask

He was handsome in his own, rugged way, a fact you were displeased to learn when you first saw him laying here, switching off with Soap who’d been sat at his side earlier

Ghost may not care for you, not that he had given you many reasons or chances to care for him, but you cared about your remaining members of the task force, and knew how important Ghost was to them, and so for the 141, you’d do your duty and care for a Ghost who apparently wanted no such love and tenderness from you

You looked the large man over, brows furrowing when your eyes landed on his neck, noting that the pillow supporting his head was getting a little flat

You stood from your chair, setting your book down, and approched him carefully, almost as though any sudden movements would somehow wake the comatose man from his slumber

As gently as you could, you attempted to adjust the pillow behind him to hopefully be more comfortable, quickly realizing just how heavy he was when he was nothing more than dead weight

You slowly slipped your hands behind his shoulders, pulling him forward as best as you could until you were able to adjust the pillow one handed

Slipping your hands back down his shoulders to ease him back into the bed, your palms naturally ending up sliding onto the back of his neck, the tips of your fingers brushing against the hair at the base of his skull, an involuntary shiver running through you at what you realized too late was a bit of an intimate touch with a man who’d been touch starved for years

It was hard to say who was more stunned at first, with how quickly things transpired, when you suddenly felt a pair of strong hands reaching up to grip your wrists and hold them in place

You hadn’t even realized you had let out a gasp as your eyes flicked down and met none other than Ghost’s own wide open orbs only inches away from you, staring right at you as though he was seeing a ghost

Stunned into silence, worried that you truly were about to end up on the receiving end of Ghost’s anger for having invaded his space like that, you barely had enough time to process that he’d somehow woken from his coma when his grip on your wrists tightened further, and somehow, whether it was a trick of the light or you imagination, his gaze softened before his scratchy, out of use voice said:

“Love.”

Your ears were ringing, hardly taking notice of the way a flurry of alarms and bells had gone off as soon as Ghost had woken up, his heart rate soaring through the roof and alerting staff

Medical personnel rushed into the room before you could wrap your mind around any of what was happening, Ghost’s grip on your never loosening until the doctor finally approached you both, sensing the tension in the air

“Lieutenant Riley,” the man said, gently landing a hand in Ghost’s bicep to hopefully help him ease his strong grip on you. “Let her go.”

His grip on you disappeared instantly, as though your skin had suddenly burned him, but his eyes never wavered from your own, even as he began mumbling unintelligibly beneath his medical mask

“What was that?” The doctor asked, trying to bring calm back to the room and ease Ghost into a state where he could be properly examined

“My girl.” The Lieutenant’s gravelly voice echoed throughout the sterile room

“Pardon?”

“My girl.” Ghost repeated, never once breaking eye contact with your now widened eyes

“Do- do you know who this is, Lieutenant?” The doctor posed the question, slowly gesturing towards you with a confusion that was spreading amongst you all

“‘Course I do.” Ghost spoke with certainty. “That’s my love.”

Part two