#my muse is off the rails

[a-roseinmisery]

thinking so hard about Éponine today

[feroluce]

how do u imagine natasha + sampo’s relationship?

I. Feel a little bad for leaving this in my inbox as long as I did, especially since I said in this post I could write a whole essay on them. But then when I tried to actually answer this, I realized ah shit, I can't really articulate what I think of them at all OTL

(so have a bajillion words of meta analysis of them instead fklajklasjf)

Just! Sampo is very mysterious figure, and we know so little of his background and his motivations! So it's really difficult to get a solid read on some of his relationships with other characters. Regardless, I do think that Natasha is perhaps the one he's closest with, and that she is the one person who knows him the most intimately in all of Belobog.

And a lot of it IS hard to pin down because of Sampo's slippery nature, but also because it's like. If you look at just Natasha's dialogues about Sampo, it doesn't really look like much. It only becomes more meaningful when compared to how everyone else talks about him.

Most other characters just comment on what Sampo does, as in his observable actions that are easy to see on the surface or from a distance.

Natasha is one of the very, very few that actually speaks to Sampo's personality or philosophy. Like she not only is able to describe a certain behavior of his, but she's able to explain the why behind it.

At least part of this is probably that they spend so much time together- Hook even comments on it during her companion quest.

And tbh I don't really think it needs more proof or anything with such a flat out statement like that, but this is actually further supported by the fact that Seele is the only other character in Belobog to sorta-kinda comment on Sampo's personality; if Sampo were hanging around the clinic with Natasha all day, Seele would probably be the person he would see second-most there. Of the dialogues posted further up in this post, Hook obviously sees him all the time, but it's not always in the clinic, and besides she's still very young...she wouldn't have the same read on him an adult would. Luka avoids the clinic whenever he can because he's worried about taking up Natasha's valuable time. And the Landau siblings aren't even present in Boulder Town until after the Stellaron is quieted.

Seele, on the other hand, is extremely loyal and devoted to Natasha, and seems to worry about her a lot. She doesn't have the same reservations as Luka, and it would feel right to see her in the clinic frequently, taking orders and missions and trying to make sure Natasha doesn't run herself in the ground. So it would make sense for her to see a lot of Sampo if he's always in there, too, enough that she would have things to say about his personality, whether she likes that or not haha.

Of course we know from Sampo's lines that it's not that he's sick, he's just reporting back to Natasha. Sampo not only smuggles in supplies across the border like what most people know him for, he's also Natasha's source of intel.

Bringing back intel doesn't necessarily have to involve a lot of conversation though, especially because it would make more sense for Sampo to be turning in written reports. It decreases the chance of Natasha mishearing/misunderstanding something or having to rely on memory alone, neither of which are really things you probably want to be doing when bad intel can mean the difference between life and death in her circumstances. So I do really wonder what it is Sampo does in the clinic all day haha. Given that he's a big believer in the power of small talk bringing in big clients, it's entirely possible Sampo is just in there being chatty, happily making conversation and keeping Natasha company most of the time...which is kinda cute. He also really could just be talking shop, too, of course- Sampo does a lot of work for Natasha, and I don't think it'd be a stretch to assume she's his main client. There's probably a lot to discuss about supply quotas, incoming intel, scheduled drops, etc.

My favorite option, though, is actually based on one of Sampo's options from the main quest, where he says:

Because like! The way he says this, the way he specifies that this is his opinion, but no one seems to care what he thinks? And how he calls them stubborn in particular? It really sounds like Sampo has been trying to get Wildfire to operate in a different direction. And if you look up the exact definition of "artless," you get this

which very much fits Sampo, and how he does things. He has guile and deception down to an art form. Sampo goes on to call Wildfire "do-gooders," but then cautions the trailblazer not to underestimate them because of that- indicating that Sampo sees that type of philosophy as something naive, or at least just ineffective. Something that you would underestimate a person for.

And the person Sampo associates with the most in Wildfire, the one he's always seen with, the one who would hold the most sway to change the modus operandi of the organization is...Natasha.

So I wonder if Sampo has been trying, possibly for years now, to get Natasha to see what he thinks of as reason, and start playing dirty to survive. I wonder if that's what he spends so much time in the clinic for, is because he does care, and he wants her and the rest of them to live, and he has been trying to convince her to go with his way of doing things, but Natasha has been refusing him, refusing to compromise her morals.

Because we know from some readables and from the general Vibe, both up on the surface and down below, that things were getting pretty dire. Rivet Town has fallen. The Silvermane Guards are being whittled down and broken. The Fragmentum was right on everyone's doorstep, and I'm sure that if the Astral Express hadn't arrived- and that if Sampo hadn't set the stage so perfectly, if he hadn't played his part just so- then all of Belobog would have eventually been snuffed out. Sampo had to have known it was happening. He must have known the end was upon them.

He doesn't even have a stake in Belobog- he's not from here. He could, assumingly, call it quits and leave when shit got tough by whatever means got him there in the first place.

And I'm sure Sampo wants to save all of Belobog, but I think he's particularly endeared by Natasha. He famously phrases his view of Elation as "true happiness always entails the manifestation of the dignity of mankind." And like. Who else embodies that so much as her?

Maybe it is a little vague and up to interpretation, but I feel like Natasha is FULL of that kind of dignity. She has been doing this since before the blockade. She willingly chose to stay in the Underground where she could do the most good. She has seen so, so much death and you can see how it weighs on her; she's become bitter, and wary, and weary. She has it out for the Guards (understandable), and she openly taunts Gepard and goes right for his throat when he shows up in Boulder Town, ten years too late, trying to help with the Fragmentum.

Natasha even seems to have given up any belief she may have once had. She's completely lost faith in Qlipoth.

All of this, and yet she still chooses to be kind. She still chooses to help people. There is something immensely admirable in all of that.

And I feel like you can see how much Sampo admires her in just how often he thinks of her, especially when someone needs help. Sampo smokebombs everyone and needs to get them somewhere safe in the Underground? He takes them to Natasha. Svarog is about to fucking kill everyone? Go get Natasha. He finds the trailblazer passed out in an alleyway? He carries them to Natasha. The trailblazer is seeing weird shit out in the Fragmentum? Recommend they go get a check up. Specifically from Natasha.

It's a little silly, but I think you can also see some of this when Sampo is being melodramatic about being caught red-handed in the museum event. He echoes a very important sentiment to Natasha and Wildfire;

And the mission where this ideology was displayed strongest was titled, "To Rot or To Burn."

(Hell, in the dream sequence of Penacony- regardless of whether that dream bubble came from Sampo or Sparkle, it had to be informed by Sampo's tales of Belobog. Sparkle has never been there herself. And the kind trashcan that immediately helps you and sets you on the right path, that tries to rally everyone together, the only one with a name so clearly and obviously taken from someone Sampo knew in Belobog? Is Shatana- an anagram of Natasha. Even from a meta perspective, they have the same VA. No other trashcan there gets that treatment. None.)

I think they have the same goals, and even hold some of the same views. Natasha's are much more obvious, but still. Sampo says this about Belobog's circumstances:

And he says this as though it should be obvious common sense. That when things are rough, you share and make sure everyone has enough. I think they both share this belief, it's just that they disagree on how to go about making things even. Natasha believes in rallying people for the cause and giving as much of herself as she can to make up for whatever people lack. Sampo believes that if some dipshit with more money than what they need falls for his bullshit and he gets to spread it around? Well hey, that sounds like a whole lot of their own fault.

Natasha is definitely aware of this, and she has no problem threatening Sampo whenever she thinks he's stepping out of line.

She keeps him on a very short leash, which like. Yeah no that's valid fjkdlsajfdklj

Even so, the way she talks about him, like... Maybe it's just me, and my rose-colored glasses, but she doesn't seem to dislike him nearly as much as she could? She kind of just. Says these things as statements about him, without any real vitriol behind them. This is just kind of how he is. She even seems to have a sense of humor about it.

And again! She has so much more to say about him than almost any other character.

I'd like to think part of her...affection? of sorts? for him is simple camaraderie. Circumstances are dire. Past, present, and future are all bleak. Things like that deepen bonds with your foxhole buddies. Sampo is dependent on Natasha for work and pay and a place to get away from the Guards. Natasha is dependent on Sampo for food and medicine and life-saving supplies. They both heavily rely on each other in this harsh environment, and they have a really nice back-and-forth that I appreciate with how they help each other out by owing favors as payment.

And the other part, I'd like to think actually IS because she knows him very well- maybe not things like his past, but she knows some of his personality and beliefs, and finds them agreeable enough. She even has the audacity to call him a poor liar at one point- Sampo! Of all people! Known by someone well enough to be caught out as a poor liar! He's either intentionally leading her on and letting her think she's caught him, or Natasha just really is that good. Neither would surprise me tbh

I think Natasha is also just uniquely prepared to understand Sampo, and is able to see his better sides without letting her judgement be clouded by his slimy manner. She's able to appreciate that his actions ARE extremely helpful, regardless of how he does them.

Even as she acknowledges that he isn't always trustworthy, she does still choose to rely on him and give him chances. She was pleasantly surprised by him here, but she still chose to trust him with this in the first place. She never treats him harshly, and she never seems to bear any kind of grudge with him.

But my favorite example of Natasha being able to understand Sampo? My favorite is this. This one little throwaway line, that didn't even involve him, wasn't even about him. I feel like Natasha is capable of knowing and understanding Sampo on a deeper level than most people can, solely because of this.

She gets it.

(As a fun bonus: In the current trashcan event, there's a simple mechanic where you get one trial character for the initial battle. Then, for the harder stage, you get that same trial character, plus a couple of extras. This is true for every Proof- except for Sampo's. In his harder stage, you use Asta, Black Swan, and Luocha. But in his initial stage, in an event all about friendship and relationships...)

[darehearts]

me staring at today's date like  :  already  ?!  TOMORROW IS JIM'S BIRTHDAY  ?!  my man is turning 33  ?!  🥹💛

[ayceofcard]

in the end, we're just two black holes devouring each other.

needed to do some practice!! chose my beloved self-made apocalypse, acheron, cradling the end of worlds 💜💜

[mad-hunts]

so, if i told y'all that barton actually sort of indirectly created a monster (metaphorically, because this person is a human as well LOL) in a later arc of his character... would y'all be interested to know more about that 👀

[relaxtimestwo]

MC sitting alone in the VIP waiting for the next story update (featuring Qingque converting Himeko into another Celestial Jade player).

Photo taken by March.

[ionozoned]

( litle album cover i made for my iono playlist........... work goes faster when i listen to music so im workin on her playlist. im still addin stuff but i like it so far + rly like the lil cover i did rq )

[sansgout]

nah but can we talk about how painfully desperate vince eventually has to get to actually reach that point of murder/cannibalism bc lord almighty

tents hands in front of face boi

i think vince for the most part just accepted the ageusia after awhile; he wasn't actively seeking ways to cure it when he assumed he couldn't (in fact, he reached the "fuck it" point and probably just exacerbated the issue through bad habits)

losing his taste also meant a gradual loss of passion in the one thing he used to love doing: cooking. bc he was always doing that for himself, a small something he could do successfully on his own turned into a hobby turned into a livelihood—

when he met rody, it all changed bc he saw someone so utterly opposite to himself. a man (pathetically) passionate and obsessed with a woman who kept on rejecting him day after day, and a passion that didn't wane despite that. it wasn't until rody that vince actually considered he might be able to cure himself, if he could only match (or, more accurately, "harvest"???) that devotion and energy he'd forsaken years ago

his killing and eating rody (in the not fun way) has a lot less to do with getting his literal taste back, and a lot more to do with learning how to feel again. because maybe for the first time, he's met someone who makes him want to.

[darabeatha]

  /  What if this was strictly (from my end) a very simple dialogue starter call- (pls do specify if not im skipping 😳👉👈 )

muse list for ref! : Constantine XI (rider) ; Ashwatthama (archer) ; Vlad III (slighty canon div) ; Jason (saber) ; Camazotz (temp. assassin) ; Odysseus (rider) ; Daybit (crypter) ; Tezcatlipoca (grand assassin) ; Charlemagne (saber) Moctezuma II (Avenger) ; Caeneus (lancer) ; Oberon ( - ) ; Medb (rider) ; morgan le fay (berserker) ; kukulkán ( - ) ; tlaloc (pretender)

[barxlupin]

@starspurn ordered:

❛  yeah you’re cute but are you good for my mental health??  ❜ / a very late inbox call, aventurine @ leblanc <3

FEELING THINGS, A SENTENCE MEME

"Just as good as you and your pretty face are for my mental health~"

Leblanc chuckles, but it doesn't sound as mirthful as usual, as if the thief is forcing it out of his throat. His sunny grin drops after a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a more somber, albeit more genuine, smile.

"Perhaps what we have wouldn't be considered 'healthy' by 'normal' couple standards..."

'Normal' couples aren't so eager to call each other 'mine' and 'yours' with the same devotion of a worshipper at the altar of their Aeon ("my treasure", "my heart"), don't feel the same shiver of excitement at the slightest hint of possessiveness in the other's demeanor (the way Aventurine's hands grip Leblanc's waist, the undisguised hunger in Leblanc's eyes when Aventurine adorns himself with jewels the thief had gifted him), aren't so desperate to leave marks on the other and preen at the sight of marks left on their own bodies (lovebites on Aventurine's collarbone, Leblanc's wrists reddened by being bound with silk)...

"...but it seems to be working for us, doesn't it?" He murmurs softly, leaning in to press his forehead against Aventurine's, one hand gently cupping the gambler's cheek.

[crescentfool]

bonerattle arena fucks severely. i was not expecting it to rival my love for jammin' salmon junction, but wow. this map feels like a love letter to people who love and enjoy salmon run. (i ended up playing the rotation for around 3.5 hours... which you can watch here if you like!)

the map's circular shape on normal/high tide effectively makes the spawns from this map come from every angle. it's a test of awareness and movement skill- and the walls + inkrails really, really make rotating around the map feel so fluid and easy.

and low tide's hexagonal two-ring design is so fascinating too! instead of testing movement, it tests your team's ability to make judgment calls on luring and making sure you don't overwhelm basket from luring too much.

i also feel that every special in salmon feels really rewarding to use on this map- even reefslider! i've played enough to see that most specials bring so much utility and value, and i just love that no special feels like it's "useless" on this map.

there's also a few flyfish tech on this map that echoes the bomb tricks on jammin' salmon junction and spawning grounds (and i guess gone fission too), it feels really intuitive on what spots can pop two baskets at once (it's the grates and the rails) and i just? feel really rewarded for playing as much salmon as i do.

i feel that the map's inclusion of the ink rail mechanic evokes a lot of similar vibes to ruins of ark polaris- and i really liked that! there's definitely some things i want to fine tune and understand better about them, but they're really fun.

i still need to see how other weapons feel on this map, but it feels like both mobile and stationary weapons can exceed here- there's nice perches for long range weapons, lots of walls for quick weapons to use to escape situations... it's so swag...! a very good final map, i think!

[ofprevioustimes]

What if I added p.olyxena..... what would happen to me then

[acheronidae]

I may be a shy little bitch but I need to find a friend of similar age that I can talk endlessly about Honkai: Star Rail with (specifically the story/characters) or else I will explode, so...

Hello, I'm Atlas, I'm 17, Autistic, Aroace, Agender, my pronouns are They/He, I draw and write fanfic sometimes, and my favorite characters in the game by far are Svarog and Screwllum so if we become friends expect me to talk about those two a lot (what can I say, I like robots)

(If you're interested just shoot me a DM I guess, idk I'm still new to this whole "making friends online" thing.)

[quietlyblooms]

@raubtierc | continued from here!

despite herself, there is a sliver of trepidation that pierces her lungs as zaya smiles. it doesn't look like any other he's given her before -- the man looks deranged, remnants of blood coloring his grin. it's everywhere, that blood, and chiyo's mouth waters. she swallows. her stomach lurches. whatever zaya's done, she doesn't fear him nearly as much as she fears what she might do to him.

he must think himself the only threat between them. would he smile at her like that if she sank her teeth into---

her brows knit together as she focuses upon the tiled ground. she stops breathing. zaya's testing her, isn't he? that's all this is. will she flinch when faced with his violence? curl her lip in disgust? run away? perhaps it's stupid, her loyalty. blind. no one in golden peaks is quite what they seem, yet she's such a sentimental creature, accepting an old friend with open arms as though time changed nothing ( but it changed her, didn't it? ). maybe that just doesn't matter now, if it ever mattered at all.

if there's a beast inside zaya, how can she possibly turn away from him? she's just as monstrous.

chiyo firmly takes zaya's hand, ignoring its stickiness as she draws closer to him. right into the lion's maw trots the little lamb, trusting that he won't rip her apart as promised; trusting that she, too, will keep her teeth away from his throat.

" you're so dramatic, " chiyo casually chides, free hand wiping away a smattering of crimson drops. but it only smears and makes more of a mess. without thinking twice, the blonde licks her thumb ( just a taste; like nectar; addicting and sweet; but she can't let it show ) before wiping at zaya's face again. her eyes flick from her task to his gaze. " do you expect me to run away because you look like carrie? sorry to disappoint, but i'm pretty hard to spook these days. "

[norikuna]

WHAT HAPPENS IN THE PRISON REALM STAYS IN THE PRISON REALM ! ★ gojo satoru

prologue ⋆ ★ just your luck, getting sealed in the prison realm with the strongest sorcerer of this day and age. well, he's typically the strongest. unless it comes to you.

pairing ⋆ ★ gojo satoru x reader genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab!reader, sorta crack 😭 — use of blindfold, incorrect use of jujutsu, óral (f), pànty-fúcking, desperate and FERAL gojo, màting press, brééding, cérvix kissin' and creàmpiés lmfao, óverstim...

word count ⋆ ★ 4.7k! a/n ⋆ ★ gorgeous art by the amazing @baobei-bu 💖 highly recommend checking out their twt 🤭

"are you in the prison realm because ya' got sealed, or did you get sealed because you ended up in the prison realm?"

you grind tired molars together, willing your hands to stay put instead of wrapping around gojo satoru's wretched neck, "the fuck are you talkin' about?"

gojo just clicks his tongue lazily, sprawled out on the unsettling, clattering bones of the prison realm, "jus' musing. it's getting real existential here."

"it's been, what, two hours? and you're already losing it." you wrap your arms tightly around your knees, pulling them to your chest in some effort to combat the cool chill of this...prison. "you realise that this is literally all your fault though, right?"

gojo's eyes flutter open, sky-blue hues that glint with outrage, "what?" he's squawking, undignified, "don't start this again."

"oh, i will," you're jabbing a finger towards him, scowling, "i didn't have any beef with geto. not even after he went off the rails with all that murder shit. didn't do a damn thing to get stuck in here as well."

"oi," a shadow flickers over gojo's face, "whatever that thing is, it's not suguru. y'don't gotta' trust me on much else, but trust me on that."

eyes narrowing, you catch some truth in the sorcerer's defensive tone. whatever. not your circus, not your monkeys. you know better than to pick at gojo satoru's old wounds, "whatever, it's got his face. and you had one job last year when —"

gojo interrupts you with a faux, hacking cough that quickly melts into a groan. throwing his head back as though your tirade is a mere inconvenience, or a tiresome lecture. arms stretching upwards, long limbs unfolding as he arches his back.

phew. a sliver of pale skin peeks out from underneath the dark uniform of his jacket, smooth and taut over slabs of toned muscle, flashing just long enough to derail your thoughts.

"heh. no lookin', pretty," gojo snickers with half-lidded eyes, "what if i'm shy?"

a skull's clattering against the floor as you wrap your hands around rough bone, chucking it at gojo with all the force you can master. he's dodging it effortlessly, ugh. of course.

you don't hate gojo satoru. in fact, it would be a bold-faced lie to claim even a shred of dislike. far from it. your co-worker is...bearable in some circumstances, and it doesn't hurt that he's awfully easy on the eyes.

but nowhere in your grand master plan to bag the strongest sorcerer of the modern age did you imagine being sealed with him. there's a faint worry in the back of your head, wondering just how badly the world is falling apart outside. what, with that geto look-alike still running amok. tokyo? in flames. shibuya? well, you hope it's not rubble.

but it's hard to focus when gojo lounges in front of you, long legs stretched out and muscular thighs spread obnoxiously wide. he's absently tracing patterns on the eerie bones, "wanna' play rock-paper-scissors again?" sounding oddly chipper despite the dire fate of the world teetering on a knife's edge.

"we already did that. and you cheated."

"did not," gojo drawls, blue eyes disappearing to the back of his eyes in mock offense, "yer' just a sore loser."

a beat of silence, and then, "how about i spy?"

you raise a brow, glancing around at your five-star accomadation. the infinite expanse of dull bones and dismembered skulls, "fine. i spy with my little eye...an endless pile of bones. and an overgrown furby sitting right in front of me."

gojo whistles, low as he scrunches up his blindfold, tossing the black silk at you, "touché," head leaning back, groaning, "i'm jus' so bored."

"hah. if you were in here alone, you'd go mad," you mutter, scooching just a bit closer without thinking. this prison realm seems colder than it should be, and it's better to stay close for warmth, right? yeah. right, that's exactly what you tell yourself.

"probably. but it's not like we can crack this stupid place," gojo scowls, "trust me, spent the first hour givin' it my all. wasn't exactly expecting it either."

"yeah, i know," you sigh, avoiding the bright cerulean gaze that's currently resting on you, almost as though it's determined to take in the sight of you, "time doesn't pass in here, right? we're gonna' have to think of something."

the corner of gojo's mouth twitch, candy-pink lines curling up, "time stands still," and then, the man's giving you an odd, focused look that's almost sheepish, "besides, you're in here too, so i can't — y'know."

"you can't what?"

gojo snickers, whistling as he makes a quick, pumping motion over his abdomen, jerking his hand up and down, "you know."

you gape at the white-haired man, the sudden thump-thump of your heart rattling in your chest. it's ringing in your ears, "you're shameless," you mutter, dragging your gaze anywhere but him. the floor, the ceiling of this accursed place, anywhere but the faint amusement painting gojo's face.

"i never skip arm day."

you make a face, a faux-grimace, wondering how on earth you're attracted to this man. a charade and a pretense that you're keeping for yourself, because your neck is burning and heat creeps up your skin like a slow, curling flame. oh, you're a lost cause.

the laughter's melted from gojo's face, and the teasing spark in his eyes has given way to something suddenly more embarrassed, and flushed. expectant even, as there's a dusting of pink suddenly mottled on his cheekbones.

your gaze drops to his lap, mouth going a tad dry at the sudden, thick curve straining against his pants, "oh, y'serious. i mean, really, now? here?"

gojo scrambles backwards suddenly, folding his long legs beneath him like a panicked deer caught in the headlights, "hey. okay, wait! 'm stuck in here w'you and you're always looking so pretty and — don't make that face, hear me out." his ears are tipped with pink, just as obvious as the flush climbing up his neck, "and you're sitting so close, what am i meant to do? 'm only a simple man, sweetheart."

you swallow, as though there's a rough cotton ball caught in your throat, "this is really how you wanna' pass the time? i mean, we got eternity in here."

gojo's lips curl up again, maddening and cocky, as though he already knows the crass scenarios passing through your head, but theres a softer flash of vulnerability in his eyes. his gaze drops to your mouth, darkening with an expression that you've never seen on him before, "who's gonna know?"

your resolve snaps, and with it, all thoughts of the outside world. fuck it.

you're clambering forward, a sudden urge of want pushing you into his wide lap. not even giving him a chance to jest, and tease, or to say one more insufferable thing. your hands balance on gojo's broad shoulders for balance, pressing your mouth to his.

it's firm and certain, tasting the heat of his surprise and the faintest laugh that dies between you. you can taste something else as well, like cool and sweet mint. and blood, still hot and rearing from earlier fights.

gojo makes a muffled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a heady groan, and his hands suddenly come alive, rough palms sliding around your waist, pulling you so much closer. like he's holding a dream that might still disappear.

"heh, someone's just as needy," gojo murmurs, teeth grazing against the hot shell of your ear. the large expanse of his palm grazes at your chest, and a moan falls from your lips, arching your back into his touch, "s-shut up. i wasn't the one who h-had their legs spread, waiting for someone to climb on."

your groan leads gojo to make a sound like he's been wounded, desperate and tight against your skin. glossy mouth pressing at the curve of your throat, as fangs nip into the thin skin. leaving marks, this you know. cool hands slide under the hem of your own uniform, brushing gently over bare skin as his lips continue to chase your own.

sucking, and nipping at wherever his teeth can find, gojo's tugging at your top, pulling it off so you have little choice but to curl into him from the cold. chilled air hitting your bare skin, as he laughs, "aw, cold got to ya', eh? 's not to worry, i'll keep you nice and warm."

blue eyes that glow practically trained on the soft swell of your chest, reverent as though he had all the time in the world to take you in. which, at this point, gojo did. slicked lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cupped chest, white strands of hair falling over his face as he buries himself in, "i can take this off, right?" voice raspier, like rock against stone, in a lower register than you've ever heard it.

"wan' you too," you rock your hips sharper this time, more insistent, agains the hard bulge straining against his pants, "no-one's gonna' see, right?"

gojo's fingers deftly unclasp the hook, "hah, if they do, i'd rip their eyes out, can't have anyone else lookin' at m'girl like that," the strongest sorcerer in the world's gently peeling the fabric away. leaning in to kiss you again as though he's entirely drunk on the taste of you, and only you.

pale lips curling around your pert bud, hands softly pawing at your breasts as you gasp, and writhe, suddenly far more sensitive with each second that passes of gojo's attentive ministrations, "s-satoru, 'm feeling so —"

"so, what?" gojo grins, sucking a violet bruise right over your breasts, white lashes fluttering up to look at you, "yer' looking just as ruined as me, pretty."

"take them off," it's more of an order on your end, but gojo complies and he seems to know exactly what you want, exactly what you're talking about, as his hands dip to the waistband of your pants, long fingers pushing over your hips to centre themselves right where you're getting desperate for him.

"i've got ya', just carefully, yeah, lean back," he's flipping the two of you over, so he's leaning over you now, gently resting you on your discarded jacket, "heh, 'm just gonna' — yeah, there we go," hands pulling at your pants until he's tugged them off you, and gojo's eyes are wide at the sight of your drenched panties.

if you thought gojo satoru looked needy and whiny before, nothing prepares you for the sight of him gnawing at his glossy lower lip, eyes aglow as he seems to shudder, "wan' me to put the blindfold on ya', sweetheart? think we could have a lotta' fun like that, only if that's what y'want."

you eye the black silk that he discarded and tossed at you, not so long ago, pawing and reaching for it as gojo chuckles, "ohh, atta' girl, y'not gonna' need to do anything, but just lay back and use ya' words."

the snowy-haired man's surprisingly soft with it, pressing a tender kiss to your waiting lips, as he loops the fold over your eyes, obscuring your vision, "gojo's right here for ya', just relax."

you can hear the sharp hitch rock his breath, his hand mildly pressed onto your thighs as he gently nudges your thighs apart, and you can feel the chill of the air sting at your hot, sopping folds.

"s-so pretty," the strongest is slurring his words, "yer' practically dripping onto my hand and i've barely touched her. barely even gotten a good, fuck, a good taste."

"i know we're meant'ta be getting outta' this place," gojo murmurs, breath hot against your slicked panties, "but i really would lose my mind if i didn't get to do this first."

'this' being gojo pressing a quick kiss to the soaked fabric, and you can feel him smile against your thigh as you whine at the sensation, with each movement being so much more electric and heightened with the blindfold covering your vision.

"heyyy," gojo mutters, feeling at your thighs clench and kick, "no need to get antsy, 'm right here." tongue ghosting and teasing at your cunt again, "pretty thing, isn't she?"

rrrrrrip!

the way gojo's been pawing at you, you should have guessed that he was forgetting that the prison realm did not have an unlimited supply of undergarments, and that damp and muffled screech all but confirms it. he's torn your panties off, and you can't see where he's got them now.

but you can guess. for you can hear laboured breathing, and whiny praises falling from gojo's lips, and the sound of a buckle being undone. gojo's leaning back up to kiss you now, to nip and suckle at your lower lip while his hand tugs continuously at something. you can't see it, but you can feel the heavy, fat tip prod at your thighs. the sound of damp fabric being slapped against skin, plap over and over again.

"hahh, i don't think ya' know jus' how much i've wanted this, pretty," gojo breathes into your mouth, the other hand coming up to curl at the nape of your neck, loving even, "can ya' spread 'em a bit wider for me? that's it, just let me through."

he's now slotted between your thighs, large palms spreading you open as you can feel your panties still looped and dangling around his wrist, like the most lewd, keepsake cuff.

"satoru, wan' you to just — oh! oh, fuck!"

gojo's already dived right in, as though you were his last meal, swiping a tongue in quick stripes over your drooling cunt. starting near your glistening entrance, slowly climbing his way to the top where he presses gentle nips at your clit.

every single legible thought in your mind turns to a glorious mush, a senseless babble quickly falling from your lips as your hands shoot out, desperate for something to hold onto. finding the nape of gojo's neck, and curling your fingers into his pale hair as he licks at your soaked heat.

thick fingers are bruising at your hips, hooked and deeply pressed into your flesh, all the while gojo's practically making out with your cunt, primal and nasty. it's messy, absurdly so, and you can feel hot thwacks! of slick flying out against your thighs. you can only imagine how it's painting gojo's face, rendering him pussydrunk and so glossy and pretty.

"sweetheart, you're so sweet, ya' know that, right? so fuckin' sweet, heh, i mean, you don't even know how i've been dreaming of this, but now that you're here," gojo thumbs at your cunt, pushing slick-tacked folds apart to view his handiwork, "all spread so pretty for me, who woulda' thought?"

"m-more, please," you're practically mewling, jolting at the sensation of each sticky kiss that gojo plants on you, "more, fuck."

you can hear the crude smile in gojo's tone as he spits a thick glob onto your cunt, "what's the magic word, pretty?"

you don't even care to think, to pull a coherent sentence or plea from your mouth as he picks up the pace, "i d-don't know, satoru! but, god, fuck, fuck, please 'toru, i jus' —"

his grip on your hips tightens, "what?" a cutting, sharp sound as though he's been struck dumb, "what'd ya' just say, sweetheart?"

you don't even know how to form syllables now, such is the effect of gojo munching at your slick heat, "wanted more? huh, 'toru?" grinding your cunt against his face, rocking your hips sharply so you can feel the beakish point of his nose brush against your clit.

"toru, ya' called me," and you can hear the desperation and want painting gojo's words, drawing his voice out into a whine, "never thought hearing that from your lips would fuck w'me so much."

safe to say that gojo satoru would have a hard time letting go of you ever again. wind, hail, fire or prison realm — the strongest was going to have his way with you. his pretty girl, all spread pretty and dewy for him to feast on.

gojo's fingers are long, splitting you open as he begins to slide the digits right up into you. scissoring you open at a bullying pace, so you can only cry and squirm from where you are, "faster, f-fuck, your mouth too, 'toru!"

"whatever ya' want from me, 'm all yours to give," gojo murmurs, pressing a soft bite into the fat of your thighs, pushing his tongue into your entrance too, teasing at the outer edges of your gummy walls, "s'so tight, and 'm only using m'hands and this mouth," the tip of the muscle being sucked in by your pretty, sopping folds.

two lengthy fingers still pushing through your walls, exploring every crevice and sticky orifice that he can find, before rough pads brush past a spot that makes you scream, "oouh, m'girl's sensitive there?"

"s-satoru," you try to take in heavy swathes of air into your lungs, feeling much of the world fall away as gojo's nose grinds at your clit, each brush making you jerk your hips up and up, till you're seeing stars.

and oh, you're definitely seeing the whole damn night sky like this. you don't know what it is that he's doing, that sharp buzz faintly running in your ears, that faint crackle of energy that makes you jolt, but you can guess, "hah, 's not fair, using j-jujutsu, 'm gonna cum, m'really gonna cum!"

"now," it's a command, and you can hear it in gojo's ruined tone, that he needs to see you fall apart like this, needs to taste your release on his tongue and you writhe, as tears prick at your lashes underneath the blindfold, your orgasm washing over you in pulsing waves that leave you limp and boneless.

gojo's hands are trailing up again, leaning upwards to gently pull the blindfold from your eyes, and oh, what a sight! the white-haired man looks breathless, as though the air has been stolen away from him. eyes glowing with running cursed energy, a bright light in the dark that has your thighs clenching at how feral he looks. glossy lips dripping syrup over his chin, and how utterly pleased he looks.

"thereee you are," gojo murmurs, pressing his lips hotly to your own, "can ya' taste how sweet y'are?" each sticky kiss leaving you dizzy, but not as giddy as you feel when your eyes drop lower.

your panties still wrapped around his wrist, uniform sleeve pushed up so you can see where your slick has dampened the pale dusting of hair on his arm. and there, well, eyes on the prize as they say.

he's bigger than anyone else that you've ever seen. it seems fitting that gojo satoru's cock is just as girthy, and beefy as he is. curling upwards in a thick shaft that's kissing wet smears of fluid over his jacket, staining it.

"that's not gonna' fit," the only logical thing you can say right now, eyeing the pink, swollen head of his cock and how it glows.

the sorcerer's tilting his head, "we can make it fit," hand reaching out to run gentle strokes across your knuckle, "we got allll the time in the world to make it fit, don't we? and, heh, i don't think our audience really minds, do ya'?"

you scowl at the reminder of the clattering skulls still chittering away, mindlessly thrumming in the walls of this stupid cube. but you're never one to complain when faced with a site such as this, gojo wrapping long fingers against his cock to glide the head through your syrupy folds. the wide, throbbing head snagging at the sopping walls of your entrance. all while you pull him in closer, nails already beginning to tear lightly at his back.

"kiss m-me, 'toru."

gojo looks up from where he seems mesmerised, taken by the sight of your glossy folds seem to welcome his cock's touch, "what was that, sweetheart?"

"kiss me," you gasp, feeling him press further against you, the tip running circles right over your clit, "when ya' put it in, please."

despite the fact that he was previously nose-deep in your cunt, not five minutes ago, and the fact that he's been pawing your clothes off in a cursed prison realm with no shame, now it seems like you've truly stumped the man. rendered him speechless and flushed, as he ducks his head into the crook of your neck.

"awh," gojo murmurs, "pretty girl wants me kissin' her, fuck, ya' don't know what you're asking. or how much y'ruin me," he's taking your mouth into a heart stopping kiss, searing before he breaks away to press light pecks to the corner of your mouth, "hold on, biiig stretch for m'now, but i've got ya', just — ohhh."

gojo feels his own thoughts dissipate as he's pushing into your cunt. every previous subconscious worry of what on earth he had gotten himself (and you, when that fuck-ass clone showed up on the train platform) falling away as he's left with only you. just you, and this maddening cunt that he's ready to call home. forever.

"s-s-so tight," the strongest stutters, "fuck" his hands already pulling at your thighs to spread them wider, so he can bully more hot inches in, just so he can hear the smack! of skin against skin.

you're squealing, digging sharp tips of your nails into faint lines that are definitely gonna' paint his back, "eeh, it's b-big, 'toru." it feels like he's truly split you open, and well, fuck, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't pleased at how you finally got the strongest sorcerer spitting cuntstruck praises into your mouth.

you whimper, the sound falling softly from you as he bottoms out, and chuckles, swiping a slick thumb over your chin, "see? we really did it together, heh," like he's awarding you some participation in a teamwork exercise, "i'm all up in ya' and her," he's patting at your abdomen, right where you know there's a soft divot, a bulge that curls upwards.

the thick, hot tip of his cock pressing messy kisses to your inner walls, throbbing and pulsing. each vein bulging within you, "y'gonna cum in me, right, 'toru? gonna' finish right in —"

gojo stares at you, bewildered for a split second, like you've truly shocked him. blue eyes wide and expressionless for a second, before something far more pained crosses his face, tongue poking out of red, kiss-bitten lips.

"satoru?"

the strongest sorcerer snaps, pushing himself upwards, and dragging you up along side him, rough palms coming up to tug at your thighs, your calves. pulling them over his shoulders, a reverent kiss pressed to your ankle as gojo snarls, "ya' got no idea, do ya'? talkin' out of your slutty cunt, not even knowin' what you're doin' to me? huh?

gojo's now pressing down into you, with such force that it makes your thighs ache and smart, but you can't even bring yourself to care. practically folded in half neatly in a brutal mating press as his cock rummages inside you at a snappish, crazed pace. as though he's desperate to find where he can push into you the most, to have the leaky head kiss at the entrance of your womb.

and oh, gojo's enjoying the view. thinking that he's content with being faced with the bounce, and jolt of your chest against his, the way that your lips part and flutter around each muffled whine and cry of his name. the hazy glimmer that falls over your cockdrunk expression, like he's the only one for you. his own thighs ripple and bulge with each snap, cock pulsing into the depths of your core. kissing your cervix over and over in pleasurable stings.

"sweetheart, fuck," gojo's gasping, tugging at your lips. you don't miss crystalline droplets pooling on the edges of long, white lashes. the shuddering breaths that he takes into his lungs as you've practically snatched his mind and rationality away with the tight heat of your cunt, "n-never felt like this before. ya' drivin' me mad. fuck, fuck, oh, this pussy was jus' made for me, hah."

in the dim glow of this accursed place, the sheen of his eyes seems all the more intense. storm clouds gathering and parting all at once, striking electric sparks that leave you breathless. he's moving at a pace so feral that you can feel tight, heavy balls smack against your ass. desperate to empty themselves into you, just as you had begged.

"gonna' cum, pretty," gojo whines into your panting mouth, eyes fluttering shut as a tear or two streaks away from his waterline, "jus' snatching me so fuckin' tight."

you hammer your hips up to meet his, to feel that delicious tack of his sticky groin against yours, every kiss of pre-cum glistening in your cunt, "don't miss."

"when have i ever m — ohhh, fuck. fuck, 'm -"

yeah. you don't let him finish. clenching around him tight enough just to remind him who's got who wrapped around their finger. sending gojo hurtling towards a heart shattering climax, pumping every divot of your drooling pussy with shades of white and cream. endless streams of milky, translucent seed making its home deep within you. all while you cry out, harshly digging into his back and pulling the strands of his silver-streaked undercut.

"takin' it all, 'm pumping you s'full, sweetheart," gojo whines, mewling as he slaps a hand between you two, roughly pawing at your thigh to push your leg higher up with one hand, giving him enough space to rub tight, tremouring circles over your clit. slapping and sloshing the mess around even more as your mouth falls open.

he's still shooting into you, and you don't have to look down to predict the sticky, glossy mess that must be painted over your cunt now. right where gojo's hand must be dripping in your release, making you sink your teeth into the side of his neck. stars streaking across your vision as all goes black momentarily, but he doesn't let up on your poor, throbbing clit.

"hah, 'm so full, satoru," you groan out, pressing a limp hand to the bulge right over your groin, right where gojo's eyes are trained, his cock still sputtering out the desperate release of his cum into you, and the white-haired man moans. loud, like you've truly undone him.

the overstimulated sting is giving way to another shattering, sharp climax that washes over you once more, as quickly as it came, leaving your heart thumping and your lungs weak, locking your ankles once more around gojo's neck, wresting on his shoulders.

you limply paw at his jacket, tugging at the stiff collar as gojo sighs, content like a cat that's finally been able to bask in the sun, "feelin' more alert now, huh? got any fresh ideas on how to break this thing?"

gojo gives you a lazy, droopy look. eyes half-lidded as he barks a faint, incredulous laugh, "fucked any smart thoughts right outta' me, sweetheart. besides," and now he's flipping the two of you around again, so you're perched once more in his lap.

smacking and squelching in the pooling mess of your shared release, as gojo grunts, lifting the jacket from his torso. revealing an expanse of delicious washboard abs, and mouth-watering, flushed pectorals, "i don't think we're runnin' outta' time here, may as well make the most of it."

[usefulcrew]

MUSE TAGS 3/3

「 ⛏️ 」   miners’ silver ghost  » ic

「 ⛏️ 」   hear her whistle on the wind  » hc

「 ⛏️ 」   glowing red as coal in hell » vis

「 ⛏️ 」   mighty lonesome cry  » musing

「 ⛏️ 」   up and down the mountain  » interest

「 ⛏️ 」   ghost trains  » aes

「 🕷️ 」   bloodthirsty train  » ic

「 🕷️ 」   the goriest express  » hc

「 🕷️ 」   teeth sharper than a knife  » vis

「 🕷️ 」   take this off the rails  » musing

「 🕷️ 」   madness and decay  » interest

「 🕷️ 」   brace for the freight train  » aes

「 🌠 」   call me rusty if you dare  » ic

「 🌠 」   do it like a steam train  » hc

「 🌠 」   slow corroison is eroding my frame  » vis

「 🌠 」   switching and hitching  » musing

「 🌠 」   for a dead-end engine  » interest

「 🌠 」   the finishing line  » aes