#everything just slight to the left

[yzafre]

The longer I think about Coded's story, the weirder it gets to me, especially the Castle Oblivion arc. I didn't really care about it for a long time because it didn't actually impact the character arcs of the Original versions, and the data characters weren't set up to come back ever, so What Was The Point, but - but -

When I actually sit down to look at what's happening, it just gets Weird. And reveals some interesting things about the characters in a strange, sideways-direction.

Like... You've got an imprint of KH1!Sora, constructed by the Disney crew, in this extended stand-off with an imprint of KH2!Roxas, being master-minded by an imprint of Namine, both of whom were presumably pressed into the journal during the prologue-week when she had access to Roxas's data.

Which, there's my first point: Namine, what the fuck. She felt she needed to pass on a message, okay, but like... Okay. Okay, so if we just had the CO segment, then we could say this is, like... just a recording of her. Don't think about it too much. Except, the first arc was sort of showing that these data-versions are/become their own people. With their own hearts?

So, for someone who has angst about just being a shadow of someone else, to then purposefully create an offshoot, that's just supposed to be a shadow of herself.... Huh.

That's not even getting into the Roxas copy. Because what. WHAT.

Like, she made a copy of Roxas at his worst emotional state to help her in driving a point home to Sora. That's... hm. She needed help, but also that cannot be fun for this poor guy. (Don't get me wrong, I love Namine, but I love her as well-intentioned but distinctly flawed in execution, like everyone running around during the Days time-period)

And if I'm right about when she grabbed his data, then this is a Roxas who never saw Axel come try to find him, never saw Axel die. Because, okay, okay. Here's what real-world Roxas has by the time he confronts Sora at the end of KH2:

Saw Axel try to get him back, even if in a very questionable way and he had no idea what was going on at the time

Got a sort of closure with his friend with that fight (and, like "see you in the next life", did he think Axel was actually dying there?)

Possibly seen Axel doing... something? In the background through Sora's eyes?

Definitely saw Axel die for Sora, which is implicated to wake him up and prompt their confrontation

Also seen... everything Sora's done. All his friends, the worlds he's touched, the things he's done.

All this colors that final fight in KH2. But this Roxas. This Roxas presumably copied from before all that. He's just. Stuck there, in that horrible moment.

That's such an interesting what-if! What if Roxas really got to rail against Sora in person, and speak all the bitterness that was festering at the worst point in his life. Absolutely no catharsis of any type before he walked in - no seeing his best friend again, no symbolic end-of-vacation, just... this. An empty white space, and the guy everyone wanted more.

And he's so aware of being data. A copy of a copy. Like, Namine, I know you've internalized DiZ's propaganda on nobodies and turned it into a weird self-destructive peace, seemingly passing that on to your imprint, but this guy has not, and he is not handling it well.

And sure, here he gets some kind of resolution with Sora in the end - but it's not even a Sora that matches up with him!

Because! Okay! In KH2 Sora and Roxas are sort of, like, on the same track in the story. They've been alive through the same events, been impacted by the same-ish people. Sora is missing a lot of pieces, but he's aware of the Organization and Nobodies, and... honestly, he's in an entirely different mental & emotional state than he started in.

But this Sora? This is KH1 Sora! Younger! Has accumulated much less baggage! His real-world corollary may not have even reached the point where Roxas is a thing, if that makes sense!

So you've got an echo of Roxas at his most ragged, who hasn't gotten any of the things that helped real-world!Roxas to start processing things, versus an imprint of Sora at his freshest - his brightest, you could say.

It's just.... it's just such a strange "what-if" story, you know? In the end, data-Sora makes a very mature choice regarding hurt, and this version of Roxas gets... some kind of closure, thank god, but...

Well, for me, I wonder if this really accomplishes what Namine thinks it accomplishes? She wanted to see if Sora was ready to handle the 'hurt' of everyone connected to him. But, the Sora that made this decision... is not the Sora that will be making in the real world. They may share the same... base personality, soul, if you will, but a huge point of CoM is that memories make up so much of who you are. Your experiences change you, even subconsciously. So, the Sora stepping into KH3... Would he reach the exact same conclusion as data-Sora? Or would it be... slightly to the left?

I don't know. I don't know! I don't think my thoughts on this game have really solidified yet. The whole set-up is just so weird, it exists in this weird space where it has such little impact on the main arc of the series, I sometimes have to just sit and turn it around in my head. What does it tell us about the characters? Or maybe, what does it tell us about the themes of this world? I don't really know. Sure is interesting, though.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

❗❗Official Class Swap Sorcerer!Kristen Post Alert❗❗ you can: look at her

[averlym]

"one day, i cut him an apple. when he saw it, he laughed" (click for better resolution!) ,,, tag from @elliotly

[retributory]

when you think about it clive and flora are actually perfect narrative foils on complete accident. like what's up with that. professor layton and the completely imagined literary devices

[a-sketchy]

oh come on, where’s my option to join forces and two team them? or cheer her on from the sidelines even. chie can wreck shit actually i don’t want to deny her that

[lunart-06]

Kamukura with emotions doesn't make him weaker than before, just because he's in relationship with Makoto doesn't mean he's gone completely *soft*. He's only gone soft in just one angle, the rest is still pretty much still the same except now he perfers to rest his head on Makoto's lap than anything else that was already available for him to simply just lean his head against.

The first thing he feels when being around makoto isn't *love*, it's simply the same feeling he always felt which is *boredom*. And the second that came along wasn't the first thing mentioned, it's *interest* (from the form of the prespective of boring normalcy that differs his own) that slowly by time turned into *obsession* (realizing this whole thing is much better than when being stuck in the tight room in his lab) and by then began to be sticking around the guy instead of the other way around and it'll be a surprise to Makoto one day and to Makoto that will only be taken as an invitation to be closer. A progress.

All in all *love* will be the LAST THING appeared even AFTER they were in a relationship because it is something that Kamukura HAS to come in terms or accept himself, or realising too late to stop it cause he only accept to be "in a relationship" (with the entitlement of 'lovers' or 'partners' and everything) with Makoto simply in a way so Makoto can stay close to him (knowing the guy's unyielding loyalty and used that to his gain), because Makoto continues to make himself intriguing to Kamukura in his own boring, simple ways because Kamukura has grow to hate and berated normalcy of the untalented by his teachers and developed it through there. Plus he never gets to experience or learn a lot more of it other than the lab staffs' explanation of how "boring" it is and it's seem to also be the reason *he* became Kamukura in the first place as well.

(So the beggining of their relationship itself, the "love" part was one-sided. Kinda. In a way)

Sure it *is* boring. The whole "normal lifestyle" thing is sure sucked away his life source (if he even had one) and it's already just as he expected even when he lets Makoto around for at least a few days, he only let the guy around cause his luck is unexpected at most times but then of COURSE Makoto would use those times to shimmy his way into Kamukura's life. Shortly yet slowly. A very strange pace it is but it worked well with both of them.

His sickening optimistic, motivating nature to upbring Kamukura's gloomy, unmotivated one to pull him in the most boring of activities eventhough he had stated either directly or indirectly that those are, obviously, *boring*.

But Makoto's other traits that has first caught him just *slightly* off guard (which is. Rare and almost to never) was his undeterred determination to prove someone wrong (either in a morality sense in what was naively generally right). Perhaps he has been too assuming of Makoto's commonly pushover antics, or maybe Makoto's usual everyday and everytime genuine optimism has put his guard down just a bit that it made him passed by the fact that Makoto- no matter how positive and hopeful- *can* get mad or bothered if being triggered in certain ways. Certain ways as in if it involves someone else or views of things morally in a negative sense (the reaction made Makoto look more.. real. Something along that line).

Im also thinking how at some point, that *stubborn* determination that *always* butts in whenever Kamukura try to state or refuse. To try and always attempting to change his mind and at some point it led to another breaking point leading to the next change and that would be Kamukura- in his still usual bored tone yet out of character dialogue, said, in *annoyance*; "can you shut up." And doesn't THAT caught them BOTH off guard.

Silence followed when both were lost in their own thoughts in trying to process it before Makoto snapped out of it first to apologise for crossing the line and in promise to not do it again. Which, Kamukura is fine with but at the same time- "no" he would say, "keep talking". Cause sure, Kamukura has a fair share of being annoyed sometimes, but THIS is different, because just *how* can he be so easily annoyed over something so... *simple* as Makoto to be able to *blurted out* the moment of thought? It's something worth to explore more. To *experience*. Because it's new and when it's new, it's usually *interesting and unexpected* to someone like Kamukura.

And sometimes it's not just usually some new emotion just popped up at certain times, it's also the fact how constant it is of how the emotions he had experienced off kept *shifting*. He'd be bored then suddenly feeling intrigued in something then suddenly be slightly fluttery-ish? ('Amused' he noted) or suddenly feeling heavy in his chest ('sadness' he thought), heck, even the feeling of something clawing his insides when Makoto almost get a brick crushed his own head ('fear' he whispered to himself) then suddenly sometimes shifts back to being bored, then intrigued, then over and over in an out of order cycle. It either shift back to the same things or it develops something new.

It was never just one thing everyday just like how things are before meeting Makoto- like continuously be bored of everything and that's what makes things both overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time.

I also think that another thing that pulls Kamukura to Makoto is that just from Makoto, wanting to hang out and stick to him, to befriended him, with the payment only be *spending some time with Kamukura* and not to use him for his talents and abilities alone. Is one thing Kamukura unmanaged to just *understand* or fully grasp. In the end though he resolved by thinking that perhaps this is just a Makoto thing. That Makoto is being too good or cared too much of others in a way. But it does put Kamukura in a good "hm..." moment though.

I have a funny imagery that Kamukura just seem to be more often being put *slightly* off guard more by Makoto (wether intentionally or unintentionally which is usually the latter) than anyone else does. To which he be more on guard than he is before and to not jump to the most obvious conclusions or assumptions on some people because, of course, the Makoto situation and all. To which also means it made him statistically *more* dangerous than before (congrats Makoto! You made him more cautious or more thoughts in than usual of what was around him!).

His obsession in wanting to keep Makoto close to him by time will become apart of his own conciousness that *I* believe to be the case. Because after everything?? Everything that happened for the last few months?? Wether before or after being together (though I believe the moment they are together is the moment where the feeling became more hecticly stronger)?? It would only be obvious that he would, for once, *accidentally* (cause really, since when does being with Makoto Naegi means anything gone as planned?) Putting the obsession from wanting Naegi close because he is the first and often only source of interest for Kamukura's own bargained to wanting Makoto close because suddenly he was in too deep in the pit he had been *still* continuously dig himself in and finding that he doesn't *like* it when Makoto was out of reach.

(Going from trying to keep the guy around for selfish reasons by means to keep himself out of his usual bored state [cause let's face it, Kamukura isn't a good person, nor a bad one either, heck doesn't even attempted in search to at least *try* to quench his boredom just because he lacks any sort of motivation. But if the interesting thing were to suddenly presented dangling just in sight he WILL grab onto it tightly.], to obsessively trying to not get the guy lost out of his reach figuratively or metaphorically sense cause he *knows* that he will never *feels* something like this again, to feeling just *right* to have Makoto close to him and not letting go just because he doesn't *like* it)

I doubt Kamukura even realised the moment he had been *attached* to Makoto, simply because he had never experience emotions in the first place other than just knowing the basic theories to diagnose others in. And when he did, it's too late by then (it won't be him unable to escape Makoto. No, no, on the contrary, Makoto will be unable to escape *him*).

So anyways. Love isn't the priority to Kamukura since the very beggining in the start of their relationship, because the other foreign subjects that is emotions (twinging sadness, light amusement, flickering annoyance, poisonous jealousy, and dare he not admit the clawing fear) *are* the foundations that build his own *version* of what was the concept of 'Love' is.

Love is different to everyone afterall, so far what Kamukura has learned and see, if there was anything the same about all of it is that; love is a form of passion, and the connection of the bonds, it can be different from others, but Kamukura *doesn't* feel anything a lot WITH anyone else in general more than he is with Makoto. So essentially to him, it was different. It's not love that was viewed *generally* but it was his own version nonetheless.

This is just *my* insight of how I see Kamuegi *in* Kamukura's prespective. Cause he is my favorite character to write. You can do so many things to him in certain situations no matter how impossible it seem to try and not break his character. But that's the thing. You NEED to break certain characters, but as long as you didn't break the fundamental core of their characters then trust me, it's more of a scratch or a rather small crack on a ceramic vase than it looking all smashed up.

Sometimes you GOTTA make a scratch or heck, added something on it, without it losing it's shape or material as a ceramic vase, in order to make it slightly more jazzam get it? Or to make it work for the theme of the room you placed it in. (Not me using the vase metaphor for all of this)

[starscelly]

miro's frequent pronunciation (or lack thereof) of words beginning with "th-" my beloved.... yes my queen do your ting .... get that shot tru.....

[lit-in-thy-heart]

brb sobbing over a book written nearly two hundred years ago

[my-current-obsession]

Pros of dating Margaret in RF4 - she's very cute and sweet and all around lovely. She's also the only girl to get a skill exclusive to romancing her, and it is BUSTED. Her healing rainbow wave is the best support move in the game, IMO.

Cons of dating Margaret in RF4 - Unless you get obscenely lucky or choose to save scum a lot, you will NEVER be able to marry her.

[flamingredanon]

Neb over on Twitter started a silly thing of putting your OCs in the bank bag Henry put himself in, so I joined in.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[cactusdodes]

.

[mycological-mariner]

As it turns out, after being really impassioned to learn about my Nana’s side of the family that I am a descendant of one of my ‘historical enemies’

Rest in fucking peace.

[cascadianights]

I'm watching Jesus Christ: superstar and let me just say, as someone w loads of early religious trauma, you missed out on so many opportunities here

[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.

[thefriendlyneighborhoodace]

sometimes i think about how funny it would be if bruce had a slight english accent as a result of alfred being the only adult in his life for most of his formative years. that or he just says british slang instead of english.

this either drives his children insane, or they think it’s the most hilarious thing ever.

__________________________

Bruce: Can you pass the chips?

Dick: Sure, B. *passes over the potato chips*

Bruce: No, the chips.

Dick: ???? … yeah? here?

Bruce: NO! THE CHIPS! *gesturing wildly for the french fries*

Damian: Father, are you having a stroke?

———

Batman: Alright, this mission is very important. It is imperative that everything goes to schedule. (shh-edule)

*red robin and red hood snicker*

Batman: *glare* As I was saying, it all must go to shh-edule…

RR & RH : *uproariously laughter *

Batman: *harsher glare* Is something funny?

RR: Oh nothing, B, don’t worry.

RH: Absolutely nothing wrong, “left-tenant”

RR & RH: *dying of laughter *

———

Bruce: *reaching the end of a long rant about responsibility and making sure you are keeping yourself and others safe* And what do you have to say for yourself??

Duke: … You sound like Alfred…

Bruce: *horrified look over coming him* … what

Cass: *furious nodding*

*Some time later, after B has been fished out of Gotham Harbor, which he jumped into after declaring that he “couldn’t turn into his father”*

Alfred: *reaching the end of a long rant about responsibility and making sure you are keeping yourself and others safe* And what do you have to say for yourself??

Bruce: *white as a sheet* … Sorry Alfie…

*Steph is heard furiously cackling in the background*

_______________________

anyways i just thought this was fun