#too crazy for my heart 😵‍💫

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

:((((((((( i ran out of tags . tumblr hates to see me thrive!!!!!!!

ok niku just . read the tags first and then come back here ok 🙏🙏 i have a lot i still need to say this is so important to me . this fic changed my life .

(WARNING this got long ….. really long ….. mysteriously. i got carried away 💔 PLS don’t feel the need to respond to any of this btw i mean that sincerely i know this is kind of a Lot i just need you to know much i adored this fic <3333)

BACK TO GOJO ok so his talk w reader…… it was just so satisfying to see them finally get to tell someone about their experience. it must’ve been such a great feeling for them !!!! to get some of it off their chest :((( … and to have Gojo Fucking Satoru our safe harbour of a man there to believe them and listen to them and reassure them. he’s so mature when it comes down to it and you captured that so well…… like as much as he acts childish and teasing this is exactly how i picture him interacting w someone he doesn’t know in a situation like this!! he’s flirty and unserious but he tells you he’ll protect you and means it. (i’m so down bad it physically hurts)

sorry i’m abt to go on a tangent i think BUT I JUST 😔😔 really… REALLY love their dynamic…. how it evolves so much even though he doesn’t even know reader exists for most loops!! and to them he’s just this beautiful Something that they can’t help but look at…… ”inhumanly attractive” is a great way to put it like he’s just….. this magnetic force……….. and i feel like even before they speak to him for the first time they probably find some kind of hope in him.

AND that’s so important bc to me that’s like . the main Theme of the fic? hope. reader has to find some kind of hope to make it through shibuya and more often than not they find it in gojo!!! in just seeing a familiar handsome face, in learning how to navigate the timeline through his actions, in talking to him and finally having him on their side. their choice to trust him fully at the end just made me soooo insane. and obv the hope theme continues even after that because gojo believes in them!!! believes that they’ll be okay in the prison realm….. more on that later actually bc i Still. have a lot to talk abt 😔👉👈 i’m just wildly flipping through my notes at this point i’m sorry to throw this at u when we’ve barely interacted but in my defense this fic reached into my actual skull and started rewiring my brain so!!!! yeah.

i got completely sidetracked there but . yes!! the conversation between them when gojo gets sent back in time is. so good!!!!! so wonderfully written!!!!! i haven’t mentioned it that much yet i think but i love your writing i devoured every line…… i struggle w the flow of my own writing SO much but this just flows so incredibly well??? it was sm fun to read????? and the rhythm of the paragraphs (that sounds. Insane but i hope u know what i mean 😭😭) is so distinct!!! and ofc there are SO many banger lines in this in general…. the gore descriptions and the lines abt reader and their fixation on hope. on gojo!! ”He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.” <- this is just one example but!! idk i’m just so enamored by ur writing style.

and the dialogue!!!!!!!! i cried!!!!!! it’s so consistently gojo…. him going all ”oh?” ”interesting…” but not explaining anything … the ”ding ding ding!” after making reader guess what he should just be telling them (it’s the teacher in him <33) AND AND AND these too!!!! :3

“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”

“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.” 

THEY JUST FEEL SO CANON that’s our gojo…… that’s exactly what he would say…… he’s so unserious and so funny and so charming 😔😔 sigh.

ANDDDDD reader telling him good luck!!!! gojo beaming and squeezing their shoulder!!!!! the lil wave!!!!! 🥺🥺 that made me smile so wide niku he’s so infuriatingly cute . it felt so genuine!!!! pls know that this gojo will probably live in my brain forever like genuinely . i’ve been brainrotting over him all week and this was the final nail in the coffin. i’ll never be free.

ok but also !!!! extremely important !!!!!!! before i get to the ending i just need to tell u . how much i loved kenjaku in this ……….. kenjaku nation (me & six others) will never forget these crumbs of content like he just feels so real!!!!! and he’s so interesting!!!!! made me realize how truly down bad i am for him bc these lines made me so fucking happy 😭😭 brain started releasing serotonin like CRAZY i’m so ashamed.

“You can come out, you know.”

”How interesting.”

"I'll be nice, though. I'll make it painless."

…….. he’s just ….. yeah. yeahhhhh. 😔😔 i’ll never be normal abt him. i think it’s SUCH an interesting detail that he always makes reader’s death painless in every single loop…. he never lies about it. that feels so in character to me too!!! he’s kinda fascinated at first and when that interest disappears he kills them. but he doesn’t make it unecessarily cruel because there’s just. no need. kenjaku is a sicko but he’s oddly polite at times and i’m just……. yeah. gonna need you to take over for gege akutami actually 🙏🙏 get in the writer’s chair!!! the fandom needs u!!!!!

wait while we’re on this topic pls just know the entire confrontation between reader and kenjaku was one of my favorite moments in the entire fic <333 not JUST because i’m a kenny stan ok……… reader’s resignation and ”I appreciate it.” made my brain spin because it’s just . kinda chilling? kinda sick? that they aren’t even really afraid of death anymore… or more like they’re just so frighteningly used to it.

AND AND ANDDDD niku your writing in this scene 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 gutted me like a fish.

Time doesn't flow in the box. He didn't lie. You die again.

i exploded btw . ackkk i wish i could explain it better i just!!! :< adore your writing. these lines made me go completely batshit they’re just so good. and the ”time doesn’t flow in the box” line … how that ties in with the ending and reader’s choice. whewww.

segway time <3333 this is the final rant i promise!!! i just need to talk about the ending bc it was so perfect and like many other things in this fic it made me insane …. have i said that already …. probably at least a couple times 😔👉👈 it’s true ok!! it’s just sooo interesting to me and obviously so wellwritten and fitting and just. thematically ties everything together so well? i was FLOORED

hhhhh i don’t know where to begin so i’ll just start w the final convo between reader and gojo :> he asks for their name !!!!!!! i cried !!!!!!!!!! calling someone by their name or knowing their name as a form of like . Closeness or Affection is one of my greatest weaknesses and i also think it’s soooo telling that GOJO wants to know Your Name. he wants to know you. to hear that from someone who seems so inhumanly beautiful and violent….. for him to kind of extend a final olive branch and attempt to connect w you :((((( it just says so much without spelling it out and i. started chewing at my desk. it’s so good!!!!!!! such a genius way to tie everything together!!!! and reader’s final words to him…

“Thank you, Satoru Gojo.” You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.  And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black. 

first of all!!! so so sooooo pretty. wowow. second of all THE THANK YOU ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ that’s also such a perfect conclusion…….. reader finally put their trust in someone and had that faith returned. and they thank him!!!! i like to think it means something to gojo too…. likeeee how often do people really thank him for what he does? how often is his hard work to protect people acknowledged and appreciated? sorry to bring gojo back into the discussion all the time sadly i AM in love w him….. 😔😔 and this fic made it worse so technically it’s your fault. kind of.

okay so my brain is kinda spinning away again so i’ll get to the final final thing!!!! for real this time!!!!! reader’s decision to be imprisoned in gojo’s stead… that’s so . genius? i’m so in awe??????? it makes so much sense from a character perspective based on what they’ve been through — after being at the mercy of time for so long, wouldn’t it be nice to be free of it? completely? it’s almost kind of chilling and just the idea of it scares me LMAO but it makes sm sense that reader would be drawn to it.

AND like i mentioned before!!! how it leads to a deeper connection between them and gojo, and how at the very end of the fic he’s the one who has faith in them. faith that they’ll be alright, of sound mind.

…… and that brings me to the final final final thing because. it’s just like the opening poem!! reader is the cat in the box. nobody can say for sure if they’re alright, not to mention alive, until the box is opened. and we don’t get to know!!! you leave us on a cliffhanger and that’s so good bc it really is like the cat in the box…. we can only wonder but it also gives us the freedom to decide for ourselves if we think they come out okay or not and i’m just………….. in love. with this fic. and the ending and the reader and gojo and you.

hopefully you’ve noticed atp but i really did go completely insane reading this 😭😭 i said it at the beginning but just to reiterate!!: for SURE one of my all time favorite gojo fics . AND loopfics in general…. thank you sm for your hard work :’3 aaaa i can’t tell u how much i admire the time you spent working on this??? your storytelling and writing and characterization skills????? i genuinely feel sooo giddy and excited and happy rn bc. i just adored this fic!!!! i’m so lucky i got to read it!!!!! :33 pls pat your gojo on the head from me and let him know i love him…. it’ll boost his ego but that’s a risk i’m willing to take 😔😔 i hope you have theeeee loveliest day or night a human being can have bc you made mine <3333333

beyond the unending night (reader + satoru gojo)

notes: it's finally here. the long awaited halloween fic. yes, i know it's march, but i did start working on it in september. haha. there's so much i could say, but i will leave it at that this fic is, in every sense, a fic that i would not normally write. and yet here we are.

contains: f!reader (no physical description or gendered language is used), no explicit romantic pairing (though you don't have to look hard to find the reader x gojo implications), major character death (played with), semi-graphic depictions of death, blood and violence, minor suicide ideation, canon retelling (lines of dialogue are pulled from the jjk english dub because i'm a dirty dub watcher). opening poem is from higurashi no naku koro ni (minagoroshi-hen). fic title is from giga's beyond the way.

please note that this is a time loop fic and, by nature contains repeating scenes (particularly from canon). please do not read this fic if you do not like that sort of thing.

wc: 21,883 read on ao3 (account required)

Please tell me what happened in this night. It's like the cat inside the box.

Please tell me what happened in this night. You don't know if the cat in the box is dead or alive. Please tell me what happened in this night. The cat in the box was dead.

The first time, it is instant— you don’t even know what’s happening.

The second, it is by flame, but you barely realize it, barely feel it— a second of mind numbing heat before nothing.

The third time, it is something slicing across your throat; you see the blood spilling everywhere, then the pain follows— a moment of pure agony before nothing.

The fourth time you realize what’s going on; what’s really going on.

You realize you’ve been dying.

You think your head is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because the subway platform is crowded, insanely so— there are hundreds of people shoved into this space alongside you, packed like sardines in a can. You’ve never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you live in Tokyo. For the most part, you’ve learned to accept it, but even this crowd is a little much and you wish you hadn’t listened to your friends when they said you should go party in Shibuya for Halloween; you don’t even like partying.

There’s a sharp pain in your temple followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone is screaming it at you through a megaphone positioned right next to your ear.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

For the eighth time.

Before you can even question the thought, images flash in your mind’s eye, blurry at first before they come into focus. The platform gates open. Chaos ensues. People dropping onto the subway tracks— spontaneously bursting into flame— their heads, necks sliced off, stomachs cut open—

Bile rapidly builds up in your throat, and you clamp your jaw shut, trying to force it down. Not here. Not now. You try to focus on something else, anything else happening outside of your brain. There’s a pair next to you musing about the people standing on the subway tracks, wondering what the two (the four?) of them are talking about. You blink back tears as you look. You can only see two: a freakishly tall man with white hair dressed in all black, and another man, dressed in strange, yet more traditional looking garb. Are those costumes too? You don’t have a lot of time to think about it as another image forces its way into your brain.

Your corpse— lifeless on the ground.

Your corpse— burning to ash.

Your corpse— bleeding out.

You can’t hold it in any more. Every fiber in your being screams at you to get away from the subway tracks, but instead you rush toward them, shoving people left and right as your hands desperately reach the stability of the gate. You grip it like a lifeline as you retch over the side of it, the contents of your stomach spilling all over the subway tracks.

There’s a quiet murmur of disgust behind you but you can’t be bothered to respond. You need to get out of here. You need to leave. You need to do it before—

The gates open and the crowd starts to move like a tidal wave, pushing and shoving their way through the gate. You’re swept away, vomit long forgotten as you and a few dozen others tumble onto the railway.

Alarm bells go off in your brain, loud and deafening. A voice in the back of your head screams for you to get off the track! Get off the track now before—

The platform erupts into a cacophony of screams, drenched in horror, saturated in fear. You are surrounded by people, by corpses— beheaded, sliced open, bursting into flames.

Your terror roots you to the ground as the carnage ensues around you. It’s only when another person, another corpse, dressed in a magical girl costume collides with your body that you can finally move. But it’s too late, you realize, despaired and helpless, as your bodies fall to the ground.

It’s too late.

You die an eighth time.

You think your chest is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because it’s so hard to breathe, frustratingly so— there are hundreds of people squeezed into this space alongside you, packed like cattle for slaughter. You've never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you’re in Shibuya. For the most part, you’ve come to accept it, but this crowd is way too much and you wish you had just stayed home and ordered a pizza; though honestly, the thought of pizza kind of makes you sick.

There’s a dull throbbing in your forehead, followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone’s hollering at you from a loudspeaker that’s been installed in your brain.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You think it's the ninth time now.

Behind you, you hear a woman screaming, her voice crazed and terrified. You turn your head automatically to look at her and when you see her you realize you recognize her yellow and white magical girl costume. You can say with certainty that you’ve never seen her before and yet—

Before you can ruminate more on it, images— memories assault your mind’s eye with a clarity that is absolutely sickening. That woman colliding into you, your bodies slamming into the subway tracks before you both— Your stomach churns violently,

and you feel like you’re going to puke, but you force it down— can't afford to right now. Instead, you make your way over to the woman.

Her head is in her hands as she mutters over and over again about how everyone is going to die. People around her figure that being stuck in here with the crowd has probably gotten to her. You, however, know better.

“...hey,” you say softly.

Her muttering comes to an abrupt halt and slowly she raises her head to look at you. There’s a flash of recognition in her eyes and she grabs you violently by the shoulders. “You! You know, don’t you? That we’re going to die?”

If it weren’t for the fact that you have indeed experienced death here eight times already, then you would have thought she’s lost her mind. Slowly, you nod and she seems relieved by it, her grip on you loosening.

You can’t help but feel a little relieved too— glad to know that you’re not the only one experiencing this nightmare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s confused though. Why is she only remembering now? But then again, it took you a few times before you realized yourself.

Around you people start to gasp, and you glance back toward the railway to see an abnormally tall man with white hair and dressed in all black jump down from the atrium onto the railway. He lands rather gracefully for someone who jumped at least one floor and starts to converse with the other three people (you think they're people— two of them are in some pretty wild costumes) on the track.

Wait. Isn’t it supposed to be just two people: the tall man and the one in the traditional clothes? Where did the other two come from?

“We have to get out of here,” the woman says. “Before they kill us.”

Her grip shifts from your shoulders to your arms and she starts to shove at everyone around you, trying to force her way through. She seems to know, just as well as you do, that any second now the gates will open and the crowd will start spilling onto the railway, littering the tracks with bodies and ash. Neither of you can let yourselves get swept up with the rest. If you do and you end up on those tracks, you’re as good as dead.

People move aside at a snail's pace, many of them too focused on trying to see what is going on on the subway tracks. This isn't good. You need to move faster or else—

The collective sound of the gates opening echoes in your head, a metallic hiss that makes your stomach fold into itself. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you both whip your heads back to look, to confirm, but it’s a mistake.

The briefest lapse in attention is enough to pull you both into the current of people, and try as you might to fight against it, the crowd splits you and the woman apart as it swallows you both whole. You’re both spat onto the tracks at the edge of the platform and your head collides with the metal rails of the track. It feels like your skull is about to crack in two, and it takes every fiber in your being to scramble to your feet. You're close enough to the platform that if you can just climb up it, then you'll be—

“Help! Help!”

It’s the woman’s voice. You turn to see that she ended up a couple meters away from you. She’s staring at you, eyes brimming with fear filled tears as she extends her hand in your direction. You take a step toward her, reaching out.

And then, her entire body is engulfed in flames, the skirt of her magical girl costume a ring of fiery death around her.

Her blood curdling scream is the only thing you can hear, her burning flesh, the only thing you can see. You don’t know what to do.

You can’t save her.

There's something touching your back. You can barely feel the pressure, but it's hot, scorching hot, mind numbingly hot, painfully hothothot.

You know this sensation. You have felt it before. The scent of burning cloth, burning hair, burning flesh clogs your nostrils. It's too late, you realize, helpless, despaired as the flames eat at your body— your soon to be corpse.

It's too late.

You die a ninth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the tenth time.

Your head hurts, but you ignore it. There’s something more important that you need to attend to. You immediately make your way to the woman you met during your last round, the one you watched burn to death. Her costume is still pristine, unmarred by fire and death.

For now.

She’s not screaming this time and while there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that’s concerned by this, you try to ignore it.

“Um, excuse me?” you say when she doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach.

The woman turns to look at you. You’re taken aback by the distinct lack of recognition and it feels almost as if the woman you encountered previously and the one before you now are two separate people. In a way, they technically are.

“Do I… know you?” she finally asks when you don’t say anything.

Your mouth is dry. How do you even answer that? You don’t know her. You just watched her die twice. You know her. She begged you for help. You couldn’t save her.

If you explain all of this you know she’s just going to think you’ve lost your mind. Maybe you already have— you’ve died nine times after all.

You give her a weak smile. “I… just wanted to tell you that you think your costume looks great.”

She blinks, taken aback by your words. There’s no doubt that she wasn’t expecting you to say that. It’s the truth though, her costume is nice; she’s dressed up as a character from a magical girl anime that was popular a couple years ago.

“Thank you! I made it myself!” The woman breaks out into a genuine smile and your heart hurts. In a few moments she’ll die and the costume she worked so hard to make will be nothing but ash on the subway tracks.

“Sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“For?”

For watching her die. For not being able to save her.“...I just kind of came up to you all of a sudden…”

She laughs. “It’s okay.”

It’s not.

You consider telling her that she should try to move. That if she stays here she will die. You don’t want her to die. Again. You can still hear her screaming in your ears as she burned to death. You want to tell her.

You don’t.

“Stay safe, okay?” you say. It almost sounds like you’re begging.

She gives you another smile, kind and gentle and you think you’re far too undeserving of it for not telling her what fate will soon befall her. “You too.”

“I’ll try,” you say and move away from the woman just as the gates open and the crowd surges toward the railway. You do not fight it as you are swept up into the crowd and despite what you said, you do not try, this time, to stay safe.

You die for the tenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the fourteenth time.

There’s a slight ache in your head, but it’s subtle enough that you can ignore it. The pain you feel lessens with each round and you think it’s a sign that your body no longer feels the need to remind you of the precarious situation that you’re in.

Or maybe you are just becoming numb to everything: your death, the death of the people around you, the death of the woman in the magical girl costume—

You try not to think about it too much as you reach into your bag to check the time on your phone: 8:37PM. There’s not a lot of time: you need to move.

At the very end of your last attempt to escape this nightmare you realized something. You need to know exactly what is going on around you so you can plan accordingly: where to not stand, where to not go. Up until now, you’ve relied almost solely on the knowledge gained from your previous failures to try and survive, but obviously it’s not enough to keep you alive. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize this earlier. The panic, maybe? The fear?

Maybe you really are becoming numb to all this.

Unlike previous iterations, this time you elect to move closer to the gate, positioning yourself somewhere against it where you’re unlikely to be pushed off the platform in a couple minutes when they open. You take great care to place yourself where you can see the ones responsible for the slaughter very clearly. At the beginning, you could only see one, the one who looks the most human, but with each repetition, the other two have become more and more clear. You wonder why. You don’t have time to think about it.

Murmurs nearby alert you to the arrival of the fourth major player involved in the night’s events. You look up and see the white haired man dressed in all black descending upon the platform like an angel from the heavens. This is your first time really looking at him and you realize there’s something almost inhumanly attractive about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it occurs to you that you shouldn’t even try; you don’t have the time to be drooling over some handsome stranger.

You’ve naturally never taken the time to try and listen to whatever the conversation the man and his opponents have before all hell breaks loose on the platform, but you try and lean closer to listen. It’s hard to hear over the dozens of conversations going on behind you, but you try anyway. There might be a clue to what’s actually going on— or better yet, a clue on how to get out of it.

It’s obvious that you’re missing context from what bits of the conversation you do manage to hear, but honestly it all sounds like stuff out of a shounen battle manga. There is one part of the exchange that you manage to hear with a startling sort of clarity. It feels almost as if your heart stops beating as your blood turns ice cold in your veins.

“If I run away, you’re just gonna kill everyone here, right?” the man in black asks.

There’s a pause, and if your heart was still beating it’d be long enough for just four heartbeats.

“If you run away?” The monster with cane repeats, the sadistic grin spreading wide across its features, displaying its charcoal black teeth. The gravelly sound of its voice sets fire to the blood in your veins, your stilled heart thumping wildly, in fear, in anticipation. Soon. It’s happening soon. You brace yourself. “We’re going to do that even if you don’t!”

You die a fourteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the seventeenth time now.

Things are going surprisingly well, even as the people around you tumble onto the tracks. You manage to hold on, desperation keeping you from falling into the abyss. This is good, you tell yourself, despite the fact that it’s not the first time you’ve achieved this. Every little victory is worth celebrating, but you have to remain vigilant. This is yet another information gathering loop, and while you know that maybe this time you’ll be lucky and live, there’s still a chance, a big one, at that, that you will die again.

You have to make the most of each and every death.

It’s such a morbid thought, but the ends justify the means, or so you tell yourself. If you have to die a few times to make it out of this unending nightmare, then so be it.

The spot you’re in is a good vantage point; it’s easier to see everything happening below you. It’s so good that it’s actually sickening. You watch as the monster with the cane and one with what looks like branches for eyes slaughter the people on the track, mowing them down, setting them aflame. In another life, in another many lives, that was you down there, and for what feels like the first time in forever, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You feel like, at some point, you likened the scene before you to some kind of shounen battle manga, but you think that was wrong.

This is borderline horror.

Everything plays out before you like a scene out of an action horror flick. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were just an extra on set, but you know the reality is that you’re just an extra to whatever phantasmal battle is taking place in front of you. The monsters and the strangely dressed man all try to attack the man in black, but he manages to block every hit effortlessly, as if he is protected by some sort of invisible barrier. When it seems the two monsters are about to hit him, he merely jumps out of the way and the two monsters seem to collide, the force of their combined strength sending a gust of air throughout the crowd. The man in black neatly lands on a nearby platform half wall and says something about curse users, whatever those are, to the monsters, before he starts to mock them, pulling down his strange blindfold in the process.

And this, you’ve found, is where you start to get in trouble.

You clearly remember thinking, at some point, previously, that there was something attractive about this man. You still don’t know what it is. You haven’t had the time to try and figure it out, but there is one thing that you do know: you can’t keep your eyes off of him.

He drops back down onto the tracks, antagonizing his opponents in an arrogant tone as he approaches. When he comes to a stop between the two monsters, the second round of their fight begins. They try to hit him, but he dodges still, gracefully, fluidly, like the three of them are embroiled in some sort of passionate, yet violent dance.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he cruelly rips off one of the arms of the one-eyed monster.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he brutally kicks the branch-eyed monster in the abdomen, sending them flying to the other side of the platform.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he effortlessly hurls the one-eyed, now one-armed monster in the same direction, sending them smashing into the wall.

Only when the man in black seems to fly to the other side is the spell over you seemingly broken. Still, your eyes give chase, and your body too, rushing from one side of the platform to the other. You can’t lose sight of this fight, you tell yourself, settling in a spot you recall being safe during your last round. Doing so could mean another death, another loop, another October 31.

You watch as the man in black acrobatically dodges what looks to be vines or roots that the monster with branches for eyes seems to have summoned from the depths of the Tokyo metro. He lands on the monster’s shoulders, balancing on them as he uses its branch-eyes for leverage. The look in the man’s eyes is so crazed that you can see it from where you’re standing. He says something to it and then—

With a feral and sadistic smile, he rips their eyes straight out of their skull.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest as you watch the fight unfold. It is horrifyingly, disgustingly violent, yet still you watch as people on the track are killed by the human-like person, blood raining down as their freshly beheaded skulls go flying into the air. He and the one-eyed monster launch their counter attacks against the man in black and the blowback is so intense the power goes out causing everyone to scream.

There’s a faint glow where the man in black is standing that starts to grow brighter and brighter. You can make out his form turning to face the wall, and it seems almost like he’s slammed the monster that had branches for eyes against it with some sort of telekinetic power. Despite the panic from the people around you, you manage to hear him, chuckling like a mad man as he draws closer and closer to the monster.

The one-eyed monster yells out a name, a name you think must belong to the man, but he doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as he extends his hands out toward the eyeless monster, exerting some kind of force that you can’t really see. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as the eyeless monster’s entire body is vaporized in a flash of blue light. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster, as the lights flicker back on revealing a smoking crater stained with purple blood where the eyeless monster once stood.

But you do.

Satoru Gojo.

You make sure to remember that.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And this is the eighteenth time.

You watch as the man called Satoru Gojo stalks through the crowd of people on the subway tracks, chasing after the one-eyed fire monster. It throws people at him, in a clear attempt to slow him down.

It does not work.

Satoru Gojo climbs back onto the platform in a way that you can only describe as inhuman, and the people nearby shriek and move away from him, out of terror, out of fear. You, on the other hand, draw closer, refusing to lose sight of him.

He is relentless in his pursuit of the one-eyed monster. It continues to throw person after person at him, but he does not stop and the people float there, suspended in midair before they are gently lowered to the ground by some unseen force and scramble away.

No one dares get close to Satoru Gojo, everyone on the platform seems to know that doing so means certain death, yourself included. But you still feel the need to keep an eye on him. The monster and the strangely dressed man are focusing more on him than the crowd— anyone in between is just collateral damage.

But not you.

Especially since you’ve made it this far— you’ve never made it this far before.

A voice echoes throughout the platform; you realize it’s the automated announcement.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You can hear everyone’s relief coming from all sides. The train is coming! The train is coming! A ripple of hope makes its way throughout the crowd. With the train comes the chance to get off the platform and the senseless violence that’s been happening here. Some of the people around you are talking excitedly and others are running toward the gates, toeing the yellow line they’ve been instructed to wait behind. And you, you should be excited, you should be hopeful.

All you feel is dread.

It eats at your stomach, at your chest, at your mind. Clawing and gnawing at you in a way that leaves you paralyzed on the platform. There’s something wrong here. You can’t be sure because you’ve never made it this far, never survived long enough for the train to come, but something is just not right.

No.

You must be paranoid. The train coming is a good thing. It has to be a good thing. You are just paranoid. It’s normal. It’s natural. Dying seventeen times would do that to anyone— rob them of hope, condemn them to an existence full of fear.

It is not lost on you that the thought of dying more than once, much less, dying seventeen times is not normal or natural in the very slightest.

But you need hope, you crave it, wildly, desperately. The hope of freedom, of escape is the only thing getting you through this unending nightmare. Every time you die, every time you wake, it is with the hope that maybe, just maybe this iteration will be different, maybe this one will be the one where you make it out, make it back to your friends who must be waiting for you, make it back home where you can be safe and sound. You need the hope to keep going. Because without hope, what will you have left?

The train screeches as it pulls into the station and the people around you laugh in both disbelief and relief. They start to push and shove toward it, fighting to be able to board because there’s no way everyone here will be able to get on an eight car train and being left behind at this point is practically synonymous with death. Unable to decide if you believe in the train as a symbol of hope or a new layer of fear, you are pushed along with the crowd toward it.

The doors of the train cars slide open and the current passengers all rush off as they disembark. You as well as everyone else on the platform can see with a horrifying clarity that the train is filled to the brim with monsters. Monsters that reach out and grab anyone their hands can reach. The woman to your left. The person to your right.

You.

Hope is gone.

What do you have left?

You die for the eighteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is probably the twenty-sixth time now.

If there is anything this entire ordeal has taught you, it is that you are resilient. Whether it is some innate trait that you never had any reason to uncover before or just a byproduct of being trapped in an unending cycle of being dead and not dead, you don't know. What you do know, though, is that even if you no longer have hope, you at least have your resilience.

Whether you want it or not.

You check the time. It’s 8:35PM. Something flickers in your chest, like a faint light in a sea of darkness, but you ignore it. You don’t have time right now.

With a nimbleness born from your previous failures, you weave your way through the crowd. You’ve done this enough times to know where the gaps are— who will yield and who won’t. Your destination is the escalator that leads off the platform and up to a higher part of the station. You’d noticed previously that the escalator along with every other entrance onto the platform will eventually be blocked by vines or roots of some sort (the work of the branch-eyed monster probably). It’s not a perfect plan because you don’t know what happens on the other side, but whatever it is has to be better than whatever is happening on the side that you’ve been on.

You’d tried to get to the stairs during your last two rounds, but you’d just missed it. You hadn’t been fast enough and had gotten caged and slaughtered along with the rest. But this time, this time you have more time. It’s just one minute, but it’s enough. You know it is.

The flickering in your heart grows stronger. Hope. You try not to pay attention to it— you don’t want to be disappointed yet again. But you want to so badly. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to focus on the good, tells you that if there was truly no way out of this endless nightmare, then why would you get more and more time with each round to escape your fate?

With that thought in mind, you break out into a run, recklessly rushing through the crowd, shoving anyone who will not yield to the side. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the stark white of Satoru Gojo’s hair as he descends upon the platform.

You need to get up those stairs.

Now.

If you remember correctly, the roots and vines don’t close off the area the moment he touches down, but a little after they start talking, so you think there is probably some time, but you can’t leave it to chance.

The stairs are packed, and for some reason no one is moving. The escalator right next to it is just as full and the power doesn’t seem to be working. You don’t have time for this. You clamber onto the escalator’s rubber handrail, ignoring the weird feeling that passes through your body as you do so. You don’t have the time to worry about whatever that is. The people around you start exclaiming around you, but you don’t care, you don’t listen. You wobble as you try to balance yourself and when you think you’re steady you try to run.

But you trip.

And you die for the twenty-sixth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This marks the thirtieth time.

And you have, finally, finally made it up the escalator, up the stairs with barely a second to spare. You pause, glancing back as the roots or vines or whatever the hell they are seal off the entrance to the platform. You notice that the area where the plants come down is actually fairly clear, despite the crowd. It seems weird, but you don’t dwell on it.

A strange feeling envelops your entire body and your legs turn into jelly. As you sink to the floor, you realize what you’re feeling is relief as all the tension, maybe thirty iterations of Halloween 2018 worth, seeps from your being. You don't remember the last time you felt anything other than fear and dread; it’s weird, but not unwelcome.

That voice in the back of your mind tells you that you can't relax just yet: October 31st isn’t over. Even though you have repeated this night again and again, burning the events that play out on the platform into your memory, you do not know a single thing that happens over here. It would be smart to scope everything out.

Legs still shaky, you rise to your feet and start walking. You think it’s probably for the best to try and head up to the surface and you make your way up to the next floor.

It’s packed with people here too, but relatively peaceful, especially when you compare it to the pandemonium taking place beneath your feet. Still, you can make out the undeniable hum of displeasure resonating throughout the crowd. People complaining about how uncomfortable their costumes are, people complaining about how much they want to go home, people complaining about how much their nights have been ruined because they couldn’t meet up with their friends and—

A thought hits you like an eight car train.

You were supposed to meet up with your friends.

That’s why you were on the platform in the first place— you were waiting for them to arrive, but then the trains stopped working, and people just started pouring into the station out of seemingly nowhere (you think you heard some people say they’d come from the crossing?). Soon after that is when everything went to shit.

You check your phone, though, for once it’s not to look at the time (8:56PM). Instead, you open LINE to check your friends’ group chat. There’s no signal here, for whatever reason, so if there are any new messages, you haven’t received them. The last one was from Kei, mentioning he was enroute, but as far as you know, you’re the only one who made it to Shibuya before the trains stopped.

Did one of them maybe make it here though? Surely, you would have run into them if—

The image of a woman in a magical girl costume fills your vision, burning to death before your very eyes as her screams echo in your ears. It is the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve thought about her and your stomach churns violently. You couldn’t help her, you can’t even help yourself, so how could you even expect to do the same for your friends if they were here? The mere thought of having to watch them die over and over is almost enough to send you over the edge. You don’t know if you could do it.

Would you even have a choice?

No. You can't think like that. You have choices. You've had choices. If you didn’t then, you would still be down below, among the fire and brimstone. Dying, if not dead already. However, instead, you are up here, where, for the moment, it is quiet and peaceful.

That thought, in of itself, is enough to give you a shred of solace, a glimmer of hope.

You take a deep breath and fiddle with your phone a little more, changing your lock screen to a picture you and your friends took at a photo booth not too long ago. The four of you are huddled together, faces squished as if you're all struggling to fit in the frame, despite there being plenty of room. You're mid-laugh because it's the first time you've been in a photo booth in years, Mio and Shin are grinning mischievously and finally, Kei is smiling, but only just slightly, the embarrassment clear on his face. It's probably only been a few months since you all took this picture, but the fact that it feels like it's been years makes your heart ache.

You press your forehead to the screen, like a prayer, like a promise.

You will make it out of this nightmare.

No matter what.

A shrill scream yanks you from your thoughts and you are instantly on your feet, alert as your eyes flit around frantically to identify the source. It doesn't take long for you to find it and when you do, you think you might have stumbled upon a new layer of horror to this nightmare.

It’s not the corpse, dangling by a noose, that terrifies you— by now you’ve seen dozens upon dozens of dead bodies that the sight of just one more doesn’t faze you in the slightest. The thing that’s the most mortifying, that’s the most disturbing is that right next to where the body is tied are two girls, two teenage girls still dressed in their school uniforms.

You can accept monsters and weirdly dressed men being responsible for the carnage tonight, but children too? Both girls look like they’re barely in high school and try as you might to rationalize things, to chalk it up to coincidence, you cannot ignore the ominous energy radiating from them.

The very notion that these two children could have killed someone here is a hard pill to swallow, but so is the fact that you’ve died.

And you’ve had to swallow that pill thirty times now, so what’s once more?

“Listen up!” one of the girls yells over the crowd, but she is mostly ignored; you don’t think everyone here has noticed her and the corpse dangling from the rafters. She scowls and turns to the other girl and says something quietly to her. The other girl nods and almost instantly she’s stringing up another person, another example. You want to look away so badly, and yet you cannot bring yourself to and you watch the poor soul choke to death.

“I said listen, you dumb monkeys!” the girl shouts, and this time she’s caught most of the crowd’s attention. “If you don’t want to end up like these two, you’ll listen to what we have to say!”

There is clear dissent among the crowd, people dismissive as they utter their disbelief. Some seem to think it’s a prank, but you know better. It takes two more examples before the crowd goes silent before the two high schoolers.

“About damn time!” The girl roars and then points toward the atrium, which is currently covered by roots and branches. “All of you move over there!”

You have a bad feeling about this.

Still, you comply; the girls have made it abundantly clear that failure to do so will result in death, though, at this point, you're almost certain this iteration is a bust and death is all but imminent. You try to keep positive— thinking you can at least gather information or, who knows, maybe there's a chance that this one is the one.

Yet when you step onto the mound of vines and branches that cover the atrium it feels as if you've crossed the threshold into hell. Your footing is stable… but for how long?

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

It's faint, but you can hear the announcement from below. The liquid in your stomach curdles at the sound as you recall the train and, in particular, what is on board. Soon enough, those monsters will be swarming the platform, massacring everyone in reach, guzzling down their blood, feasting on their flesh—

It dawns on you that the people on the platform are the monsters' first course.

And you, and those around you here in the shrubbery, are the second.

As you realize this, the branches and vines disintegrate beneath your very feet and suddenly you are mid air— falling, falling into the abyss below.

You die for the thirtieth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You've done this nearly sixty times now.

After countless failures, you've decided that you're just not going to go upstairs any more. No matter where you try to go, you still end up herded onto the death trap above the platform where you ultimately fall to your death. You've tried positioning yourself in the same spot, tried bracing yourself for the drop— but nothing seems to work: upon landing, assuming you manage to land without hurting yourself or dying in midair (which has happened a couple times) you get grabbed and killed by one of the monsters from the train. It's probably not impossible, you just don't have the physical prowess or reflexes for it.

If anything, you can try again later, but you sincerely hope you don't have to.

It's 8:32PM, and you have plenty of time to get to your chosen spot for this loop— it's close to the stairs, in the very center of the platform. Here, there's little risk of getting pushed off onto the tracks when the gates open. You'll probably have to move when the train comes, or even before (assuming you survive) to avoid the monsters, but you'll get to that when it's time.

You can't really see the fight once it breaks out after Satoru Gojo arrives, but you still try to keep track of it as best as you can. You see when he hurls both monsters across the platform and you're not sure if it's muscle memory or what but you have to fight the urge to move to the side and watch. It's been a while, yes, but you've seen the fight countless times before— it doesn't change. Satoru Gojo will give chase. He will rip the branches from the branch eyed monster's skull. He will use some kind of power to eviscerate them.

You don't need to watch, but there's something in you that wants to.

It doesn't make sense, you've seen it all before; if you're unlucky you'll see it all again.

The lights go out and people start screaming; Satoru Gojo is ending the life of that one monster. Soon enough he'll be back on the platform, in pursuit of the other. You think at that point it would be good to move, reposition yourself as far from the incoming train as possible.

When he rises from the tracks like a demon straight from hell, you realize it's the first time this loop that you've actually gotten a good look at him. You remind yourself, again, that this isn't the first time you've seen this man, this scene. You can't help but watch, but stare at Satoru Gojo as he stalks through the crowd in pursuit of his prey. His expression is an eerie sort of calm that's at odds with the acts of violence you've seen him commit— his eyes an unnaturally bright blue.

He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

The sound of the announcement sends your heartbeat into a frenzy, snapping you out of your little trance. The train is coming and you need to get moving. As you dart to the edge of the platform, the thought occurs to you that even if you avoid the initial wave of monsters, it's likely you will inevitably be caught by them and killed. It wouldn't be impossible for Satoru Gojo to turn his attention to them instead of the two he's currently facing, but he's just one man— can he truly defeat all those monsters?

You can see the train pulling in and you brace yourself, praying that it'll work out somehow.

The doors hiss open and the screaming starts again as the monsters come bursting out of the train, biting and mauling anyone they can get their hands on. Those who were lucky enough to not be at the front start to scramble away and the monsters give chase. Your body is taut, ready to try and dodge any that come your way.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice something moving through the air. A person? With blue hair? You take the risk to look— they're attacking Satoru Gojo. He tries to punch them but they fly away from him to dodge— disappearing into the crowd.

You hear a loud cracking sound over the cacophony of the crowd and your stomach twists; you know what that sound is. The roots above the atrium disintegrate and bodies from above start to rain down onto the platform.

And then, you're not sure what happens— it's so quick that you only manage to see what looks like an explosion of blood surrounding Satoru Gojo. Corpses litter the ground around him and even from here you can tell he is shaken by the carnage.

The monsters have finally reached where you're standing, and you duck under one as it lunges at you. Although it's big and scary, you realize it's moving kind of slow. Right after it another one comes at you and you take a side step to avoid it; this monster is kind of slow too.

Maybe you can do this.

As soon as you think that a strange feeling courses through you. Every hair on your body feels like it's standing on edge and the voice in your head is telling you to look at Satoru Gojo. You don't understand why because you think he's the least of your worries right now, but you do it anyway.

He's in some sort of stance, one hand raised to his face, fingers bent in some kind of gesture. There's some sort of aura, oppressive and frightening emanating from his form.

Satoru Gojo is doing something.

You just can't tell what.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are utterly confused.

Barring your first few loops when you weren't fully aware of what was happening, you have very distinct memories of how each of your previous iterations of this night have gone— of each and every one of your deaths. But for your last round, the last thing you remember was feeling the immense power radiating from Satoru Gojo's body, but that's it.

You do not remember dying.

In fact, you don't think you did.

And yet, here you are again, back at the start: it's 8:32PM and the monsters and strangely dressed man are standing on the subway tracks waiting for the arrival of Satoru Gojo.

You don't understand what's going on; you didn't die but you're still stuck in this damn loop. Up until now, your death has served as the trigger to restart the loop. It's not impossible that maybe you suffered a quick and painless death but you're almost certain that isn't the case.

Something else must have happened.

Something having to do with Satoru Gojo.

You have to find out what. If you don't, you won't know how to avoid it, and if you can't do that, then you really might spend an eternity stuck in this nightmare. And so you take great care to repeat the steps of your last round. You need to make sure to survive to the same point you made it to last time.

Miraculously, you do.

The moment you feel that sensation again, a prickling sort of feeling that envelops your entire body, your eyes are on Satoru Gojo— trying to figure out what the hell he's doing. His eyes are crazed with a desperate kind of focus. You see his mouth move— he's saying something. A spell? A prayer? A curse?

You don't know.

You do know.

Your brain feels like it's going to explode.

Again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

Again.

You do not know how many times it's been the night of Halloween in Shibuya: you stopped counting around the hundredth loop. It feels like it's been a while since then. Or maybe it hasn't? You don't know any more.

What you do know is that this night ends up going one of two ways before you are forced to repeat it. Either you die, in some way, shape or form or something happens just after nine that forces you to reset. You still don't know what it is exactly; you only know that Satoru Gojo is responsible for it.

You do prefer it to dying— it's far less painful.

But if anything, you wish you could just die permanently and never have to repeat this night ever again.

Unfortunately, you know better.

The only good thing you’ve noticed about all of this is that you really do seem to keep waking up earlier and earlier. The last time you checked, it was at around 8:30. It might take hundreds of thousands of loops, but eventually you’ll certainly wake up early enough to avoid this damn entire mess.

But by the time that happens… will your sanity still be intact? Will you really be able to go back to a normal day to day life after living the equivalent of hundreds of years, repeating the same night over and over again? You don’t even know how you’ve managed to stay sane all this time and as much as you want to believe you could do it…

There has to be a breaking point.

For both your mind and this time loop.

If you’re lucky, you’ll reach the latter first.

There’s a dull ache in your head that feels foreign yet familiar. Your mind is foggy, all your thoughts hazy as you try to recall what the word for this feeling is.

Groggy.

It feels as if you’ve woken up from a nap and you blink the sleepiness away from your eyes. When was the last time you took a nap? It’s been a while… You think you maybe tried once or twice, but you were too nervous, too on edge. Awake or asleep, it didn’t matter because, either way, you were doomed to repeat this nightmare.

As you think this, you realize that something is different.

You’re used to how the start of each loop feels like waking up suddenly and abruptly and it becomes clear to you that you haven’t looped. This is completely uncharted territory.

You need to find out what’s going on.

The first thing you notice is that it’s quiet. Almost eerily so, especially when the last thing you remember was screaming and chaos. You glance around you and find that it looks like all the monsters from the train are dead, the ground littered in their bloodstains and corpses. There were so many of them, you don’t know how someone could have wiped them out so quickly… Could it possibly have been Satoru Gojo’s doing?

More concerning than the complete eradication of the monsters is the fact that nearly everyone else on the platform is standing stock still, their mouths ajar with blank expressions on their faces. It’s almost as if their souls have completely vacated their bodies…

Were you like that too before you woke up?

You hear voices, and your body immediately goes tense as you turn your head in their direction. A little ways ahead of you, you see a man dressed as a monk conversing with the blue haired person from earlier and before them is—

Your heart nearly stops: it’s Satoru Gojo, restrained and on his knees.

Honestly, you can’t make heads or tails of the conversation they’re having; it’s more shounen battle manga nonsense. Satoru Gojo doesn’t seem to be enjoying their conversation either, and he interrupts them, clearly annoyed.

“Are we gonna do this or what?” he asks. “The view sucks and I’m just kinda bored.”

“I wanted to enjoy this sight for a little bit longer, but you are right,” the monk says. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen— gate, close.”

When he says that, Satoru Gojo’s restraints move, the weirdly shaped cubes at the ends of them closing in around him, trapping him in a giant red cube. It starts to shrink until it’s small enough to fit in the monk’s hand.

You gulp and hope they don’t notice that you’re awake. The fact that they haven’t slaughtered the rest of the people standing around you is a good sign, but you don’t want to find out what happens if they know you’re cognizant.

It’s not hard to play the part of a living statue, especially when you compare it to everything else you’ve had to suffer through on this night. You watch as the monk’s allies, the ones who had attacked everyone on the platform, wake up, but before they can do or say anything, the box holding Satoru Gojo slips through the monk’s fingers and makes a dent in the concrete. The look on the monk’s face makes it clear that it’s a problem he wasn’t expecting.

You don’t know a damn thing about Satoru Gojo, but you feel like this kind of thing is the norm for him.

The blue haired person suddenly looks in your direction and you nearly stop breathing. Have they noticed you? It takes everything in you to keep perfectly still, in hopes that maybe they didn't, that maybe they’re looking at something else. They raise their arm and it extends, their hand acting like some kind of projectile. You almost shut your eyes and brace yourself for impact, but their hand flies upwards and hits something on the ceiling, destroying it.

Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief— you’re still safe.

For now.

You listen to their following conversation and while you still don’t fully understand everything, it’s clear they’re talking about what to do next since they’ve taken care of Satoru Gojo. Something having to do with someone named Yuji Itadori? The group seems split on what to do about him but it’s clear he’s their next target.

Eventually, everyone but the monk (you heard the blue haired person, who is apparently named Mahito, call him Geto?) runs off, probably to find this Yuji Itadori person. Once they’re gone, Geto speaks and, at first, you think he’s talking to you, but it becomes clear he’s addressing someone else. “Those cursed spirits are actually smarter than the two of you.”

“Give him back!” a voice hidden among the crowd hisses. Your blood runs cold at the sound. You recognize it; it’s one of the high school girls from the upper floor.

“We cooperated with you fully and kept dropping monkeys for you,” says another voice; it must be the other girl that was with her, the one who hung all those people.

“Now give us back Master Geto’s body like you promised!”

“Don’t toy with Master Geto any further than you have!”

You blink in confusion. Isn’t the monk named Geto? The way the girls are talking it sounds like they’re talking about someone else… Is it possible that the body is ‘Geto’ but the person they’re talking to is someone else possessing it? It sounds kind of crazy, but then again, so is every single thing you’ve experienced tonight.

Your suspicions concerning this ‘Geto’ are confirmed only seconds later as he says, “Now begone, or is it your desire to be killed by this body?”

One of the girls vows her revenge and you hear shuffling somewhere else in the crowd as they scurry away. Now you think it’s just you and whoever it is that’s puppeting Geto’s body. You see him plop down in front of the box (the prison realm, you think he’d called it) that’s holding Satoru Gojo.

“You can come out, you know,” he says after a while.

You freeze. The rest of the platform is completely silent. This time you think he might actually be talking to you.

“I know you’re there,” ‘Geto’ adds, his voice casual. “If you’re insistent on hiding, you should know that I’m not afraid of using whatever means necessary to smoke you out.”

Given everything his allies have done, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s serious. You were hoping to hide out among the crowd until he decided to leave, but it looks like you won’t be able to now.

Looks like this loop is a bust after all.

Your heart starts to race as you weave your way through the crowd. In every single one of your loops, you were always treated like a bit character, never noticed or singled out by any of the major players of the night. Although this is your first time encountering this ‘Geto’ it’s clear to you that he’s involved with everything that’s happened here and honestly, you get the feeling he might actually be the mastermind behind the massacre.

That makes you even more nervous.

You come to a stop in the place where Satoru Gojo was once kneeling before he was put in that box. Now that you’re out in the open, ‘Geto’ looks you over with some sort of nonchalant curiosity.

“You’re…” he starts, sounding thoughtful, "not a sorcerer, are you?”

Sorcerer. You heard that term thrown around by him and his group a few times. It’s what they’ve been referring to their enemies as. It probably wouldn’t be smart to lie and say you are one; you get the feeling he’d see through your lie anyway. “I’m not.”

He hums. “How interesting.”

“...what do you mean?” you ask before you can help yourself.

“It’s just you have an abnormally large amount of cursed energy for a non-sorcerer,” he explains. “Though, I suppose that all just sounds like gibberish to you."

You nod and look down at the box lodged in the floor. It has eyes, big creepy looking eyes. "...are you going to do the same thing to me as you did to that man?"

He laughs, "...fortunately for you, the prison realm only holds one person at a time and I need him sealed away more than you."

"...does that mean you're going to leave him in there forever?"

"If I'm feeling nice, I might unseal him in a hundred years or so."

One hundred years? At this point, you've probably lived roughly that amount of time through your loops alone, but for Satoru Gojo… "Won't he die first?"

"Only if he decides to," 'Geto' says, looking completely and wholly unbothered. "Time doesn't doesn't flow in the box, so when I unseal him, he'll be the same as he was just now. Physically anyway. Who knows how deteriorated his mind will be after all that."

Time doesn't flow in the box.

The words echo in your mind over and over. Time doesn't flow in the box. In other words, that means time has stopped in the box, and if that's the case then—

"Anyway, rather than worry about him, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?"

You look at 'Geto' and he's smiling at you, it's friendly, but ominous. There's no doubt what is going to happen next, though you had already resigned yourself to this iteration being a bust; it was only a matter of time.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I was thinking I might keep you around, even if you aren’t a sorcerer, your wealth of cursed energy would serve my plans well," he muses. "But… it would be too much trouble trying to teach you how to use it in time."

As he talks, you realize this is probably the first time your death is intentional— every other death you've suffered has just been a byproduct of the ongoing slaughter. You were just another casualty, a victim, never a target.

You're scared.

Even though you know that once he kills you, once you die, you'll just loop back to around 8:30 again. You'll be on the platform again. And you'll play out some sequence of events before you eventually die again. And again and again.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I'll be nice, though," 'Geto' says, raising a hand and another monster appears out of nowhere. You don’t even bother trying to figure out from where. It doesn’t matter, especially since this monster will surely be the one to end your life. "I'll make it painless."

"...I appreciate it," you say and close your eyes hoping that he's not lying about it.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

He didn't lie.

You die again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you're trapped.

You don't know how and you don't know why, but you are stuck in a time loop— forced to suffer through the horrific events of the night before you die and begin it all again. It's been a long time since you stopped counting how many loops you've gone through, but if you had to guess, it's probably somewhere in the hundreds now.

You are so very tired.

But it doesn't stop. It won't stop no matter what you seem to do. You are stuck. You are trapped. You are doomed.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

Ever since that first loop where you heard whoever is possessing Geto's body say that, the words have been stuck in your head, playing on loop.

You finally realize why.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

It's 8:25PM when you wake up; that should be plenty of time.

You need to find Satoru Gojo.

After hundreds of loops you've come to a singular conclusion: you need to prevent him being sealed in the prison realm. You've witnessed it enough to know that you won't be able to do it alone; you'll need his cooperation.

You rush upstairs as fast as you can, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine as you step onto the stairwell. According to your previous loops, Satoru Gojo arrives on the subway tracks at 8:40PM. With how crowded the upper floor is, you don’t know if you’ll have the time to intercept him and talk to him, but if you can at least figure out where to find him, then you can try and talk to him during a subsequent loop.

When you reach the fourth basement floor, however, you don’t know where you should even start. He’s pretty tall so you think you could spot him in the crowd, but… there are still so many people. It occurs to you that maybe it would be better to try and look from a higher vantage point so you head to the stairs that lead up to the third basement floor. You check your phone again. It’s 8:35PM; you need to hurry.

Luckily for you, you find him very easily on the third basement floor.

The only problem is that he’s in a hard to reach spot— squatting above a sign hanging over the crowd.

You check your phone again. It’s 8:38PM and he’s starting to move, presumably to meet with those waiting for him on the subway tracks. It’s good that you found him, but there’s no doubt about it.

You’re going to need more time.

The moment you wake up, you immediately bolt toward the stairs. It's taken many, many more loops, but you've finally brought the time you wake down to around 8:15. You're still not sure if it's enough time, but there's only one way to find out.

You barrel your way up to the next floor and zig zag through the crowd to get to the next flight of stairs. By the time you get to your destination, you're completely out of breath, your chest heaving as your lungs clamor for air. You’ve done this so many times, yet your body acts like it’s always the first. It sucks, but there’s nothing you can do about it. You slow to a brisk pace to catch your breath and check the time. It’s 8:27— a new record. Hopefully it’ll be enough.

The goal is to catch Satoru Gojo before he moves to his lookout point above the crowd. While not impossible, it would be difficult for you to follow him there. You eye the safety barricade that blocks off the area where he’ll be moving in just a few minutes warily.

Yes, getting over there would be extremely difficult.

You don’t want to think about it right now; you’ll deal with it when the time comes.

Especially since Satoru Gojo has now entered your field of vision.

Your heart starts to race at the sight of him and it feels like it’s beating a million times a second. There isn’t a lot of time. You need to talk to him, but your legs only wobble, your feet planted firmly to the ground. This is not good. You need to move. You need to move.

Finally, after what feels like both an instant and an eternity, your feet finally budge, propelling you in Satoru Gojo’s direction. The beating of your heart only grows louder as you make your way toward him, mingling with the single thought that’s echoing throughout your mind right now: will he even hear you out?

You need to make him.

“Excuse me!” The words nearly come out in a stutter as you realize that you are actually talking to Satoru Gojo. You have watched this man at a distance for so long that it almost felt like he wasn’t real, like he was just another fixture in this nightmare that you’ve been living for far too long. And yet, here he is, right in front of you, in the flesh.

And his attention is on you.

All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is actually a little overwhelming. Your mouth is dry and suddenly you don’t know what to say, but you need to say something. You need to say something before he thinks maybe you bumped into him by accident and just walks away without a word.

“I need to talk to you!” The words just burst out from your mouth and something about it is just absolutely embarrassing. You’re not sure if it's desperation or the fact that you haven’t really talked to anyone other than the existence occupying Suguru Geto’s body in nearly forever.

Satoru Gojo’s lips slowly start to form a smile, “Oh, yeah?”

The sound of his voice makes your mind go blank. There’s something different about it right now; more playful, amused even. Maybe it’s because he’s talking to you, a harmless human being and not a monster trying to kill him. It’s almost kind of jarring, but you know, with certainty, what Satoru Gojo’s voice sounds like. And the fact that he’s actually talking to you right now has you kind of excited. You nod, doing your best to not show how thrilled you are that he’s not ignoring you.

He hums thoughtfully, “Sorry… but unfortunately I kind of have some business to attend to right now.”

“I—” You start to say that you know that he’s headed down to the platform below to fight with…Choso and Jogo, you think their names are— you don’t know the name of the monster with the branches for eyes. “It’s— it’s really important!”

Gojo tilts his head a little, clearly thinking. You should probably say something else, something to try and convince him to stay a little longer and hear you out, but your mind is both full and blank. Where do you start? From the beginning? Or do you start with what is most important? Maybe you should say what you think will get his attention. You’re not sure, and you realize you really should have thought about this earlier because you’re running out of time right now.

“...mind handing me your phone?”

You stare at Gojo, completely and wholly confused, but he just holds out his hand expectantly. When you don’t move, he wiggles his fingers a little, a silent gesture telling you to hurry it up. Without thinking, you reach into your bag and unlock your phone before handing it to him.

“Kind of sucks that cell service isn’t working right now,” he remarks as he types something into your phone before handing it back. “But! Here's my number.”

You look down at your phone and, sure enough, Satoru Gojo has added himself as one of your contacts. He’s even added a little star to the end of his name. That’s… a little unexpected. Why his number though?

“Are you… hitting on me?” you mutter in your confusion.

He laughs, “Well, you said you had something really important to talk to me about, right? So just give me a call when you get home or some time tomorrow and we can talk then!”

You’re not going to make it home, or even to tomorrow, and neither will Satoru Gojo. As you start to tell him this, he steps past you. Desperate, you try to grab him, but somehow, for some reason, you can’t. You remember he did this with Jogo and the other monster, made himself untouchable.

This is not good.

He gives you a little wave, cheery as he says, “I’ll talk to you later!”

You watch, helpless as he hops over the barricade beyond your reach.

Gripping your phone tightly, you take a deep breath. It's fine, it's not like you didn’t expect things to go well anyway.

You'll just have to try again.

Every time you’ve tried to solicit help from Satoru Gojo, it has gone the same way. He just won’t give you the time of day, and in some ways you can’t blame him; he’s clearly here to deal with the monsters down on the platform. You’re fairly certain that he probably thinks that whatever is going on with you is a much lesser issue in comparison.

Plus, it probably doesn’t help that in the times that you’ve approached him, you haven’t been able to articulate yourself particularly well. Once you start talking to him, you just get hit with something akin to stage fright and the connection between your mind and your mouth just stops working. It’s gotten better with each attempt, but…

It’s just so frustrating.

It is interesting that Gojo has given you his number every time, star symbol and all. You’re not sure what kind of person you were expecting him to be, but after witnessing him literally and viciously rip monsters apart, you’d figured he’d be a little more somber. However, in the fragmented conversations you’ve had with him he’s come off as far more friendly and playful than you would have thought. Is he the type of person to get more serious when the situation calls for it? You can’t help but wonder, but ultimately, it doesn’t really matter.

What really matters is that you’re able to convince him to help you.

You have to convince him.

“Excuse me!” you say, stepping in Satoru Gojo’s path. You don’t stutter this time, and your voice is more sure. This is good.

“Yes?”

His head turns in your direction and you gulp. Gojo’s gaze, despite that blindfold of his, still feels just as overwhelming as it did the very first time you approached him. You have no doubt that he’s sizing you up, but there’s just something about it that makes you feel like you’re being picked apart.

You take a deep breath and step closer to him, hoping your voice sounds firm enough as you say, “I need your help. I’m trapped.”

He chuckles a little, “I know, but yours truly is on his way to go beat up the bad guys keeping you all trapped here, so soon enough you’ll be all free to go on your merry little way.”

Right. You were so caught up in your own plight that you nearly forgot that technically you’re not the only one ‘trapped.’ Satoru Gojo obviously knows that everyone else is confined to this station, but you doubt he knows that you’re confined to this night alone.

“That’s not what I mean!” you sputter.

“Then what do you mean?” Gojo asks. Should you tell him that you mean that you’re trapped in a time loop? You’re honestly not sure— in the movies and manga you’ve read about time travel, revealing that sort of thing risks creating a time paradox which seems to be a bad thing. If you have to tell him, you will, but— “Oh, I get it.”

You stare, bewildered. Did you maybe just spew all of that aloud?

Gojo gives you a mischievous smile. “You’re hitting on me, aren’t you?”

“No!” The word comes flying out of your mouth. You can’t deny he’s attractive— you’ve thought it all this time, but that is not what’s happening here.

“No need to be embarrassed,” he continues, ignoring you. “I totally get it, so if you want, I’d be happy to give you my number!”

Again? You’ve received Satoru Gojo’s contact details in every loop you’ve talked to him, star symbol and all— you even have his number memorized. There’s something kind of odd about how he keeps giving you his number. Part of you wonders if he’s got some sort of ulterior motive, but you haven’t thought too deeply about it. There are way more important things going on.

“I don’t need your phone number,” you say. “I need to talk.”

Your response seems to give Gojo pause. Did you somehow manage to get through to him? No way. Your suspicions are all but confirmed when he gives you that familiar apologetic smile.

“Like, I said, I’m sort of in the middle of something, but…” Gojo reaches into his pockets and rummages around until one hand fishes out a folded up piece of paper. The other hand keeps digging around in his pocket and when Gojo seems to give up on whatever he’s looking for, he turns his attention back to you. “Got a pen?”

What?

Gojo tilts his head. “Well?”

“I do, but…” You trail off, unsure why he’s asking.

He holds out his hand waiting for you to just hand him the pen. You still don’t get it, but you reach into your bag’s front pocket and pull out the pen and hand it to him. Gojo looks almost like an excited child when he takes it from you, quickly scribbling something onto his paper before shoving it and your pen back into your hand.

You look at the paper; it looks like a receipt. For a disturbing amount of mochi that Gojo bought earlier today. The amount of money he spent is almost sickening; way too much to be paying for mochi. More importantly, you notice something juxtaposed over the receipt’s print.

It’s Satoru Gojo’s name and number.

He even drew a little star next to his name.

“If you change your mind later, just give me a call!” he tells you cheerily. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”

You gawk at him. He cannot be serious. You literally just told him that you didn’t need it and yet he still gave it to you. He must want you to contact him later, but you can’t even begin to understand why. It can’t have been something you said or did, right? Unless, he’s actually—

“Later!” Gojo’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you notice him walking off with a wave.

You can’t let him get away.

Again.

You crush the receipt in your hand and rush after him. Despite the crowd, Gojo seems to move through the people with ease and it almost seems like they are yielding to him naturally. It’s good for you. Makes him easier to chase.

“Wait!” you yell, but Gojo doesn’t even look back. Bastard. Your muscles strain as you try to run faster. You know you won’t be able to grab him if you get to him, but there has to still be something you can do to stop him. Circle around him? Cut him off before he—

Satoru Gojo reaches the barricade.

“Wait!” you yell again. “Satoru Gojo, wait!”

He does not even acknowledge you.

You’re almost there though. Almost. If you reach out your hand, then maybe, maybe you can grab him. Something in your head tells you that it’s useless; you’ve never been able to touch him. But, you don’t care, you don’t care because you have to try. You stretch out your hand, desperate and hoping, but just as you do, Gojo effortlessly jumps over the barricade, moving to survey the crowd.

Due to your momentum, you almost collide into the barricade, but you manage to stop yourself. You stare at Satoru Gojo through the glass. He watches the crowd for at most three minutes. Is this just another bust? Is there really nothing you can do? There must be a way you can get his attention. Is it possible to climb over the barricade? No, it’s too high. There’s nothing you can grasp onto or use as footing either.

This fucking sucks.

Another minute or two and Gojo will be on the move again, and there will be no way you can follow, no way you can get his attention. You press your hands against the glass, pushing against it. Naturally, it doesn’t budge. Why would it? If only you could get it out of the way. If only you could break it. This stupid barricade is the only thing between you and Satoru Gojo and there’s no way you can climb it, but if only you could break it.

If only you could fucking break it.

Suddenly, the glass feels warm. Satoru Gojo’s image starts to look a little distorted as the warmth beneath your fingers grows. Something is happening. The glass starts to vibrate and shake. Violently. The tremors grow stronger and stronger. You should stop. You should back away.

You don’t.

The barricade starts to crack and fracture and soon the sound of shattering glass resounds throughout the entire room. Everyone starts screaming. No one knows what’s going on— not even you. But you don’t care. It’s gone. The barricade is gone.

You take a step forward, toward Satoru Gojo. He’s on a beam that’s about a two meter drop from where you’re standing. That’s fine. That’s okay. You can make it. You have to. Without a second thought, you jump—

And you land on the beam. You look up and Satoru Gojo’s attention is back on you. He’s finally, finally turned toward you, face twisted into an expression you can’t decipher or even comprehend, but—

Something’s wrong; your world is turning on its axis, but—

Satoru Gojo is looking at you, and—

Up is very quickly becoming down, and—

Satoru Gojo is coming closer, but—

You’re slipping—

But he’s right there, and—

You’re falling, but—

He’s trying to catch you, but—

It’s too late. It’s too late.

The last thing you think you feel—

—is Satoru Gojo’s arms around you.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are causing a commotion.

“Shit! Fuck!” you curse loudly. The people near you start to shift away but you barely notice; you don’t really care.

You were so close, so fucking close and yet… yet here you are again. It’s quarter past eight and you are back on the goddamn platform. You don’t know what happened; you remember falling and thinking you were going to die, but you are absolutely certain that, once again, this time, you didn’t die.

Is Satoru Gojo at fault again? Did he do something? Like he did all those other times you looped without dying? When you think about it more, you don’t think so. You don’t know what happened; all you know is that you tried to get to him, but you slipped.

And he caught you, you definitely remember that.

You still don’t understand why you looped, but there’s not much you can do about it now; it’s not like you can go back anymore. It just sucks, because you think he might have actually listened if you’d talked to him.

Or he would have come after you for… whatever happened with the barricade. It could have been taken as an attack on the crowd… But if he thought you were doing that, then why would he catch you?

You don’t know.

All you know is that you have to try again.

The only problem is that you don’t know how you managed to shatter the barricade. You think about it as you make your way up to where you’ll find Satoru Gojo. There is the possibility that it wasn’t you and something else happened to it instead, but that feels way too coincidental. It had to be you. That’s the only thing that makes sense. You just can’t figure out how you did it outside of wanting, wishing, praying for the barricade to break. It’s not like you have supernatural powers like Satoru Gojo and his enemies.

Despite your mind being completely and wholly occupied by trying to figure out how in the world you managed to break through that barricade, you still manage to make it to the second basement floor of Shibuya Hikarie by 8:25PM— a brand new record. Satoru Gojo doesn’t show up until around 8:34PM, so that gives you almost ten minutes to try and figure out what you need to do to try and replicate shattering the glass barricade again.

Except—

Except Satoru Gojo is already here.

The thought that maybe you’re mistaken flashes in your mind before it’s quickly dismissed; there’s no way you’d mistake anyone else for him. There is absolutely no denying it: that is Satoru Gojo. Bewildered, you double check the time on your phone. Maybe you misread it and you’re actually late but sure enough you read it right— Satoru Gojo is here early.

What the hell is going on?

Of the thousands of times you have experienced this night, this hell, this sort of thing has never happened before. Everything happens at a specific time, as if adhering to an unseen schedule. It’s likely that what happened in your last iteration did delay Satoru Gojo’s arrival onto the platform, but other than that there has never been a deviation to the time table.

And yet, here Satoru Gojo is, nine minutes early now.

You realize that that’s not the only thing that’s strange: he’s not moving. In previous rounds, when you encounter Gojo here, he’s walking to the lookout spot beyond the barricade. But, right now, he’s just standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. It almost looks like he's waiting for something.

Or someone.

This unexpected turn of events has you rooted to the spot. You’re not sure what you should do. No. This shouldn’t change anything. You need to talk to him. As concerning as a change like this is, the extra time it gives you should be a good thing. Despite knowing that, your feet are still firmly planted to the ground.

The crowd shifts and you see Satoru Gojo start to move. Toward the barricade? No. He’s not heading in his usual direction, rather he’s—

You stop breathing.

He’s headed toward you.

All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is absolutely mind numbing.

He comes to a stop before you, lips curled up to form an amused sort of smile as he says, “Soooo, you needed to talk to me?”

You try to answer but no words come out of your mouth. Are you dreaming? You have to be, right? There's no way that this is actually happening. Could it be that, after thousands of loops, you’ve finally lost it? Your mind shattering along with the glass of the barricade at the end of the last one?

Gojo tilts his head, indicating that he's still waiting for an answer. When you open your mouth, at first, nothing comes out, the words stuck in your throat. You force them out, your voice cracking, “...how did you know?”

He smiles, looking almost mischievous as he reaches up and lightly taps the side of his head. “I remembered, of course!”

All you can do is stare at Satoru Gojo. He remembered? How is that possible? From his perspective, this is the first time you’ve met and while it shouldn’t be possible for him to remember there’s something in your mind that’s keeping you from completely dismissing the possibility.

Gojo laughs, “I take it from the look on your face that you’re not used to this sort of thing happening. Is this the first time?”

“No.” The fact that the word is out of your mouth before you can even really think about it surprises you and you really have to think. Your face scrunches together as you try to remember. Is this really not the first time? Then, the memories assault you, overlapping as they replay simultaneously in your head— a woman in a yellow and white magical girl costume— begging you for help as she burns to death— smiling as she tells you she made her costume herself. “...it happened just once a long time ago.”

“‘A long time ago,’ huh. Sounds like you've been at this for a while now.”

“...unfortunately.”

Gojo hums. “So when you said you didn’t need my phone number…”

“You’d already given it to me a few times,” you say, figuring that’s where this conversation is going.

“Really now?”

Does he not believe you? Or is he just being an ass? You’re not sure, but since you had taken the liberty of memorizing Satoru Gojo’s phone number you recite it back to him to prove your point.

Just when you think you may have stunned Gojo into silence he starts to laugh, obviously finding something funny about the fact that you know his cell phone number. “Seems like you've got quite the fascinating technique there.”

Technique? What is he talking about? Your confusion must be plain on your face because he adds, elaborating, “The time travel.”

You continue to stare at him. You don't think you'd consider what you've been going through time travel, because traveling implies moving from point A to point B, but you've been stuck walking in circles at point A for a long time. What really gets you is… “What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“You mean you don’t— oh. I get it; no wonder you’re trapped.”

That does not answer your question in the slightest. “Can you please explain what you're talking about? What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“Right, right… So basically, a technique is like a special sort of power,” he finally explains. “Like I said, your technique seems to be a kind of time travel. Whenever you activate it, your mind is sent back in time.”

What he's saying makes sense, but… “How come you were sent back too?”

He laughs again. “Isn't it obvious? Think back to before— do you remember that I caught you as you were falling?”

You nod slowly. The memory of his arms around you is almost embarrassingly vivid. “...is it because we were touching?”

“Ding, ding, ding! That's correct! Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!”

Something about his tone annoys you, but you try to ignore it. He could have just told you rather than make you guess. “How do you know that for sure?”

“Well,” he continues. “You’ve done your little time loop a bunch of times, right? If your technique affected everyone, or even a few people in a select range you would have noticed for sure. And if it affected only just you then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, now would we?”

When you think about it, you do think that the woman in the magical girl costume might have bumped into you before the loop where she remembered.

“That’s honestly just conjecture, but I've got pretty good eyes, so I’m hardly ever wrong.”

Gojo gives you a grin and while you do think that his reasoning is sound enough his confidence is a little grating. More than that, though, you’re glad that this conversation is actually going really well.

“Either way,” he says thoughtfully. “It doesn’t look like you can control your technique. Usually a person’s technique manifests when they’re a kid, but you seem to be a special case… in fact, I bet your technique activated for the very first time tonight— probably under some pretty extreme circumstances, too.”

“...dying counts as an ‘extreme circumstance,’ right?”

“Oh, absolutely. Or legitimately thinking that you’re gonna die, but it seems like your body has been unconsciously activating your technique as a sort of defense mechanism. Which is why you’re trapped.”

“So, if I could control it I’d be able to make it out of this time loop.”

“Yeah, but in this case it probably wouldn’t end very well for you,” he points out with a chuckle. “It’s not like you actually want to die, right? I mean, if you did, then your technique wouldn’t even activate in the first place.”

You don’t; what you want is for this night to finally end. To be free from the endless cycle of dying over and over again and again. You don’t think death is quite the answer; even if you were to learn how to control this supposed technique of yours, there’s no guarantee that you would just unconsciously activate it when the grim reaper comes knocking on your door. No, the answer is…

“Anyway!” Gojo’s cheery voice cuts through your thoughts. “I highly doubt that you’re the type that makes a habit of jumping off ledges for the funsies, so the fact that you’ve been dying tells me that some pretty gruesome stuff is about to go down, so, tell me what happens tonight.”

The sudden drop of his voice sends a shiver running down your spine. If it weren’t for the fact that you’ve seen how serious Gojo can get, the sudden shift in demeanor would probably freak you out a bit, but it doesn’t. This is the Satoru Gojo you’re familiar with.

You do have one concern though. “That… won’t create a time paradox or anything, will it?”

“Nah,” Gojo shrugs. “You wouldn’t cause one with the way your technique works, besides, if you’ve only been going back at most an hour or two in time it’s hard to believe you’d be making a really big impact… unless you really believe in the butterfly effect.”

You’re still not quite sure.

“Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

His voice sounds strange. Gentle. Kind. It's the most soothing thing you've heard in a long time and it makes you want to believe him.

“...okay.”

Anxiety is still gripping at you, but you try to dispel it, taking a deep breath before beginning your explanation. For the sake of brevity, it’s probably best that you’re as concise as possible. There isn’t much need to really get into the nitty gritty of things unless he asks specifically.

Naturally, you begin with his arrival onto the platform and how soon after a fight breaks out and how the crowd is unfortunate enough to be involved. Gojo’s expression is passive for the most part, but he does crack the faintest hint of a smile when you mention how he manages to eviscerate one of the monsters.

It disappears once you tell him about the arrival of the train. Between the dozens upon dozens of people being dropped onto the platform by those two high school girls and the hoard of monsters disembarking from the train, everything devolves into pandemonium.

“Wait,” Gojo holds a hand up and you pause. This is his first interruption since you started recounting the night’s events for him. “Everyone is able to see the monsters?”

You stare at him. What a weird question. “...yeah?”

His mouth twists and it looks like he’s thinking about something. You can’t even begin to imagine what. Finally, he comments, “Makes sense.”

It does not, but you don’t ask him to elaborate. Surely if it was important he would have just done so.

“Anyway, in the middle of all that, you… you do something.” Your brows bunch together as you remember the stance Gojo took, the crazed and desperate look in his eyes, the feeling of your head about to explode. “I don’t know how to describe it. At first, it would just force me to… activate my technique, I guess. But now, it just knocks me out for a few minutes.”

Gojo frowns and he rubs at his chin, obviously thinking about what you’ve said. Eventually, he raises a hand and bends his fingers into a familiar gesture. It’s the one that preludes whatever he does on the platform. “Do I do this?”

“Yeah.”

He hums. “Interesting.”

You wait to see if he’ll explain. He doesn’t. Great. Even if he doesn’t think you need to know, it certainly would be nice to. It’s annoying otherwise, but you ignore the feeling and continue. “I can’t tell you what happens when I’m knocked out, but when I come to everyone is basically a zombie and all the monsters from the train are gone. I think you kill them.”

“I probably do,” he says casually. “But what about Volcano Head?”

“...you don't…get a chance to kill him,” you say slowly. Gojo tilts his head, waiting for you to elaborate, but you hesitate. You have to tell him, you know you do, but…

You have seen the interaction so many times and though you don't know the exact nature of the relationship between them, you can tell that seeing Suguru Geto (or rather seeing his body) shook Satoru Gojo to his very core.

There's no doubt in your mind that he will not take this news well.

“Come on now,” Gojo's tone is light-hearted, unaware. “Don't keep me in suspense here.”

It's as if you're withholding the punchline to a joke. In a way, you suppose you are, but you don't think he's going to find it funny.

You take a deep breath. You need to tell him. The worst thing that could happen is that he doesn't believe you, but if that's the case… you'll probably just end up repeating this all again until you find a loop where he does.

Having made it this far, you'd like to avoid all that.

“Before you can get Volcano Head you get restrained by something called the prison realm,” you say slowly, “by someone calling themselves… Suguru Geto.”

The second the name leaves your mouth, there is a clear and obvious shift in the air. Gone is Gojo’s laid-back and frivolous demeanor, replaced with something more somber and almost frightening. The tension grows more and more palpable to the point that you think it might almost choke you.

You almost wish that it would.

“You can’t be serious,” Gojo finally says, once your words have fully sunk in.

“I—” You start to speak, but come to an abrupt stop when you see him shove his hand into his pocket to yank out his phone of all things.

The both of you know full well that there’s no reception here, but you don’t think that he’s planning on making any calls. Gojo scrolls and scrolls on his phone before he stops and shoves the screen in your face. It shows a picture of three people— a teenage girl with a cigarette in her mouth, a younger, happier version of Gojo sporting a pair of round sunglasses and—

“When you say ‘Geto’ is this who you’re referring to?” Gojo demands, using his other hand to point at the third person in the frame— a handsome young man with long dark hair pulled up into a bun.

“Yes, but—”

“That’s impossible. It can’t be him,” Gojo interrupts, his voice firm, cold even. “He’s dead.”

There’s a note of finality in his words that is definitely meant to leave no room for argument. It doesn’t stop you, though. Instead, you glare at Gojo’s stupid blindfold and say, “...being dead doesn’t mean a damn thing! I’ve died hundreds of times and yet I’m still fucking here, but—”

“Your situation is different,” he interjects, the temperature of his tone hiking up, his words like heated hissing. “I killed him almost a year ago. There's no way—”

“You didn't get rid of the body properly!” You cut him off, raising your voice in hopes that he'll take even just a second to stop and listen. It seems to work and you add something you remember ‘Geto’ saying. “You should have had Shoko Ieiri get rid of it, but you didn’t and now some… some kind of gross brain thing is possessing the corpse!”

The air between you both is silent as the grave. Though you can't see it, you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. He’s definitely having second thoughts about everything you’ve said so far. There’s a chance he might even think you’re his enemy now. You stare him down though, refusing to look away. You’ve made it this far, you can’t— you won’t back down.

“...you’re not lying, are you.” Gojo’s words are more of a statement than a question. There’s no doubt in your mind that he knows the answer, and yet he’s still asking. You wonder if maybe he’s clinging onto some vain hope that maybe, just maybe this all a sick, cruel joke that’s gone way too far.

“I’m not.”

Gojo holds your gaze for a second longer before he lets out a curse. “Fuck!”

“...I’m sorry,” you say quietly, mostly because it feels like the most correct thing to say at this moment. You don’t know the whole story, but it seems like they were close. If so, then it must have hurt Gojo a lot to have killed him, and must hurt even more to know that someone is desecrating the body. You hate that you, a complete and utter stranger, happened to be the person to tell him, but…

It had to be done, for the sake of getting past this unending night, it had to be done.

Gojo runs a hand through his hair and lets out a ragged sigh. “Okay. What happens after that?”

You give him a rundown of what follows; he gets sealed, the monsters wake up and all but ‘Geto’ leave in search of their next target. When you mention the high school girls demanding the brain give Geto’s body back, Gojo snorts loudly.

“Fat chance of that,” he says derisively.

You nod in agreement. It was clear to you that the brain parasite has no intent on giving it up any time soon. “After they leave, he… talks to me.”

“Probably couldn't ignore all that cursed energy you have,” Gojo remarks offhandedly.

You stare at him, expression twisted in a way that shows that you have absolutely no clue what that means. It should be fine for you to ask this one question; it actually concerns you after all. “What does that even mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, though… probably doesn't make much sense to you, does it?”

You give him a pointed glare and all Gojo does is laugh.

“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”

“...Like in a video game?”

“Exactly!” Then, Gojo tilts his head, clearly thinking. You don't bother asking; you don't feel like he'll explain.

“He does ask me if I'm a sorcerer, whatever that is. Is that why?”

“Probably. Ordinary people don't have even a fraction of the energy you're packing.”

‘Ordinary people’ he says as if you’re not an ordinary person who got caught up in all this supernatural sorcery bullshit. Or at least you were, but if the time loops are really a product of your own doing…

“Does he kill you when you answer?” Gojo asks to get the conversation back on track.

“Not right away. What happens next kind of varies,” you answer. “He usually lets me have a question or two before he kills me; I've asked him a couple different things.”

“Really taking advantage, aren’t you?” Gojo says and you're not sure what to make of his tone. Is he mocking you or is he easing back into that laid-back persona of his?

“If I’m doomed to repeat the same situation over and over, I might as well make the most of it,” you respond flatly.

“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.”

He’s definitely gone back to acting almost completely unserious— all signs of his earlier agitation are nearly gone.

“So what did you learn?”

“Well, the prison realm only holds one occupant. Once they’re sealed, time stops for them and the only way out is if the bearer unseals them or if they choose to kill themselves.”

“I see… And what about our body jacker?”

“He didn’t go into detail but he said something about… striving toward the evolution of mankind?” You frown a little at the memory. He didn’t explain further because he said that you wouldn’t understand.

“Huh. Interesting. Wonder how he was gonna go about doing that.”

“I don't know, but I can't imagine you'd like it since he goes out of his way to seal you into that box,” you say. “Said you’d get in the way because you’re too strong.”

Gojo shrugs his shoulders and grins a little. Cocky. “Well, I am the strongest sorcerer around, you know.”

You would think him overconfident if you hadn't seen the magnitude of his strength first hand.

“Anyway, that's as far as I ever go. When he's decided he’s done talking to me, he kills me and I loop back.”

“So, in short, what you want help with is getting past that point, right?”

“More or less.”

“And all I have to do is avoid getting caught by the prison realm?”

You nod.

“What’s it look like?” he asks. “A big cage with a bunch of metal bars?”

Now that you think about it, you haven’t woken up early enough to see it before it traps him, but you can’t imagine it looks that much different. “No.. It’s a small box with eyes… It gets big enough to fit you in it, though.”

“Huh.” He stretches his arms out above his head as if he’s trying to emphasize how large he actually is and shoots you a grin. “Should be easy enough then. I bet our body snatcher used the shock of seeing Suguru to trap me but since I'll see it coming, avoiding it'll be a piece of cake.”

Gojo makes it sound so easy, and maybe it really is as simple as that, but you can't help but be worried still.

“Don't tell me you don't think I can do it,” he says, tilting his head.

“It's not that,” you admit. “I'm just concerned I might die before we can get to that point.”

Truthfully, since you know that will just result in another loop you're less concerned with dying itself and more worried about losing the progress you've made in convincing Gojo to help you. Even though it's been clearly proven you can loop him as well, there's no guarantee you'll be able to make the physical contact needed to do it upon death.

“You've made it pretty far on your own, though, right?”

“Yeah, but… I’ve messed up plenty of times.” More than you can even count. “There's also the possibility that taking the time to talk to you might have thrown things out of whack.”

Speaking of time, you check your phone. It's 8:39PM. You curse.

Gojo leans over to check your phone. “Let me guess, I'm supposed to be somewhere right now.”

“Yeah, this is when you’re descending down onto the platform.”

“You know where I am down to the exact minute?” He asks and you tilt your head back and forth a little. It’s not exact per se, but it’s close enough. Gojo chuckles a little. “Man, I didn’t realize that you were actually that into me.”

That earns Gojo a glare from you, but he just laughs it off. “I doubt being a few minutes late is going to make a big difference.”

You certainly hope so.

“Don't worry,” Gojo says and you notice he's using that tone from earlier. “You won't die.”

It’s hard to argue with him when he uses such a reassuring sounding voice and yet, you still open your mouth to try— to voice your doubts, but what he says next silences you before you even can.

“I'll protect you.”

You think your heart stops beating in your chest and your words dissolve in your throat.

He grins at you. “Did you fall in love with me just now?”

That catches you a little off guard. You're willing to admit he's hot, but surely he must be joking. “How could you even think of something like that at a time like this?”

Gojo laughs again. “Well, since someone is so worried about their time table being all messed up, I better head down there; can’t keep Volcano Head and friends waiting, right?”

You blink. Is that it? “Wait, shouldn’t we make a plan or something?”

“Isn’t the plan for me to not get caught in the prison realm?”

Yes, but… “But what about me? Is there anything I can do?”

Gojo stares at you, or at least you think he does. “...I don’t know, is there?”

You’ve seen the encounter between Satoru Gojo and those monsters so many times and you try to picture a version of it where you intervene and… all you can see is yourself getting in his way. You’re no fighter, no… sorcerer, or whatever he is, you’re just some ordinary person that was unfortunate enough to get all caught up in this mess. The most you can probably do is kick the prison realm out of the way when the time comes, but otherwise… “...no, I guess not.”

His expression turns sympathetic. “You’ve done plenty by telling me everything that happens. So just wait up here, and let me handle the monsters.”

You almost nod. Almost. But then you remember what transpires up here above the platform. You know it sounds safer up here where you’re less likely to get involved in the carnage, but… “Wait, no, if I stay up here then I’ll fall to my death when those girls—”

Gojo laughs, interrupting you. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine.”

“How?”

“Just trust me.”

“I…” It’s hard to. After everything you’ve gone through it’s hard to trust in anything, to believe in anything. Even though you’ve made it this far this time, the worry that something will go wrong and that you’ll have to do it all again still lurks in the back of your mind.

Despite all that, you want to believe.

You want to believe that you can make it past this unending night, that one day you’ll wake up and it’ll no longer be October 31, 2018. And the first step towards that is trusting in Satoru Gojo.

“...okay,” you say quietly. “Okay.”

Gojo chuckles then asks, “Anything else before I head off?”

You start to ask if there’s anything you should say, in case things don’t work out, but you stop yourself. You’re choosing to trust him, to believe in him— you can figure out that stuff later if things end up going south after all. So, instead you give him a smile and it feels a little weird because you don’t remember the last time you did. “Good luck!”

For a split second, Gojo looks almost surprised, but then he laughs again, beaming widely at you. He starts to move past you and reaches out to give you what you think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and then he’s off. You turn to watch him go, the crowd, once again, parting almost naturally for him.

When he reaches the barricade, he pauses, raising his hand as if he’s giving you one last wave. Then he jumps over it onto his little perch and then less than a minute later he’s gone, descending to the platform below.

Now, all you can do is wait.

You check your phone again and it’s 8:44PM. If you remember correctly, the high school girls start threatening everyone right before 9PM. With Gojo’s arrival being shifted back almost five minutes, does that mean that they’ll be shifted back too? It would make sense, but you’re not too sure.

Out of habit, you keep checking your phone and at nearly 9PM, you hear the shrill voice of one of the girls over the crowd, commanding everyone to do what she says, her partner stringing up bodies until everyone listens. Everything plays out just as you remember it, which is mildly comforting, though you know that the events that happen up here are more or less independent from what happens below.

Surely, just as Gojo said, a few minutes aren’t going to change anything, but—

No.

You agreed to trust him. To trust that everything would be fine.

When the girls start to demand that as many people as possible climb onto the roots and vines covering the atrium your heart starts to hammer in your chest. In just a few minutes, all the foliage will disintegrate beneath you, and you and everyone else here will fall into the abyss below.

You are afraid.

There isn’t a single loop where you’ve really survived this fall. If you don’t die in midair, you die right after landing. It’s a death trap, and that’s why you’ve stopped coming up here. There’s a part of you, the part that knows what’s about to happen, that wants to try and run back onto stable footing. But you can’t, because you know if you do then the girls will kill you for sure; you have to stay.

It’ll be fine, you tell yourself, it’ll be okay.

You just have to trust Gojo.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You hear the announcement faintly below you. It’s almost time. You brace yourself and try to stay calm. Gojo said he would protect you, that you wouldn’t die. You don’t know how he intends to keep that promise, but all you can do is believe in his words.

It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.

The vines and roots start to crack and the ground beneath you starts to give out. You squeeze your eyes shut as that sickening weightless feeling overtakes you. It occurs to you that this is actually quite literally a trust fall— will Satoru Gojo really be able to catch you?

As you fall, you realize almost instantly that something is different.

You’ve experienced this fall dozens of times and so, even though it has been a while since you’ve gone this route, you are very familiar with what it feels like. Something is different. You’re falling faster. The trajectory is changing. It’s like some force, other than gravity, is pulling at you.

Is this Gojo’s doing?

Just as your body collides with the ground you hear the sounds of mutilating flesh meld with the screams surrounding you. Blood and severed limbs litter the ground, but you try to ignore it. You need to focus on your own survival right now. Quickly, you scramble to your feet scan the area around you; you’re on the platform right now and right in front of you is—

Right in front of you is Satoru Gojo.

His back is turned to you, his focus currently elsewhere. Looking at him you realize you recognize this scene, though it’s much closer and at a different angle. He’s about to do that thing, that thing that knocks you out.

Something in you tells you to move closer to him, after all, he used his mysterious powers to deliberately bring you closer to him, right? You rush toward him and as you do something he said earlier pops up in your mind.

Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!

Whatever he’s about to do… Is that his ‘technique?’ And if it is, would it work the same way as yours? If so, there’s only one way to find out: you need to touch him. You dodge monsters and other people as you run toward Satoru Gojo and—

A monster still manages to grab you, its large hands wrapping around your wrist. You try and yank it free, but it's much stronger than you are.

“Shit!” you hiss as the monster starts to pull you toward it and away from Gojo. What do you do? Your other hand is still free, should you try to punch it in the face? Or—

Before you can do anything, something blasts the monster’s head clean off. Shocked, you stare as the monster’s body slumps onto the ground, its grip loosening on you instantly. You whip your head around to find that while Gojo still has his back to you, his arm is bent back in your direction, his palm open as if he fired some invisible blast from it.

Then you feel it again, something pulling at you, but this time it's more forceful. Your body is yanked toward Gojo and the second you feel his hand press against you, you see him make that gesture with his other hand.

“Domain Expansion,” he whispers in a strained voice. “Infinite Void!”

Something happens and your vision flashes for a fraction of a second. And then—

The room is enveloped in an eerie stillness; all the violence and bloodshed coming to an abrupt stop. Monsters and humans alike stand like the living dead, unconscious with their eyes wide open as if they are staring into an infinite abyss. You recognize this scene, you’re familiar with it because it’s similar to the one you wake up to after being hit by Gojo’s ‘domain expansion.’ The only difference is the presence of the monsters, who are all but gone when you regain consciousness.

The pressure from Gojo’s hand is gone and he says to you, his voice still low. “If you’re squeamish when it comes to blood and gore, it might be best for you to close your eyes.”

And then he’s gone.

You do not take his advice. You do not close your eyes. How many loops were you unable to witness what’s about to unfold? A few hundred? A few thousand? And if all goes to plan, then you will never get another chance again: there’s no way you could possibly look away.

And what you see unfold before you is that Satoru Gojo was right.

He is the one to kill all the monsters.

It’s not as if you really had any doubt, after all, it seemed like the most logical conclusion to come to and yet…

There’s a difference between knowing and seeing.

All the violence resumes and the platform is engulfed in the sounds of carnage and slaughter once more. The lack of terrified screams makes everything more disconcerting— without them, all you can hear is the squelching echo of mangled flesh and blood splattering all over the place. You can’t really see him, but you can tell where Satoru Gojo is in the crowd as he leaves dozens upon dozens of decapitated heads soaring in his wake. Once or twice, he leaps out of the crowd and even from where you stand you can see the crazed glow of his inhumanly blue eyes as he massacres monster after monster.

Even though you don’t think you have anything to be scared of, you are still terrified: Satoru Gojo is no longer a man, but violence incarnate. You want to move closer to where Gojo gets trapped, but you’re afraid to. What if you get in his way? What if he kills you by accident?

Dying again when you’ve made it this far is definitely not ideal, but isn’t being killed by Gojo the best case scenario? Because then the two of you would probably loop together again and—

No.

Gojo said you wouldn’t die.

He said he’d protect you.

It’s hard to believe when he’s in the middle of a massacre, slaughtering monsters left and right, but you remind yourself yet again that you have to believe in him.

You take a deep breath and start moving, taking care to keep an eye on where Gojo is. You don’t know how long this is supposed to take, but you do know where he ends up when he’s just about done. The closer he gets to that spot, the sooner the prison realm will be unleashed upon him.

There’s a small group of zombified people nearby and you settle yourself among them. It’s not super close, but you think it's close enough that you'd be able to run over and kick the box away from Gojo if you have to. You do a quick survey to see if you can spot the body snatcher, but he's nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he hasn't noticed you moving around, or, if he has, he's more concerned with Gojo than he is with you. Given that you always seem to be the last thing he acknowledges, you'd like to think that he doesn't consider you a threat.

Which you're not, not really anyway.

The sounds of slaughter start to die down and you look to see Gojo approaching the spot where he gets caught. He looks beat, his eyes unfocused and his breathing heavy. You do another quick scan around him and notice a small box a few meters away from him, wrapped in what looks like paper charms or seals or whatever they're called. That has to be the prison realm— though it looks different than what you saw before. Gojo seems to notice it right after you do, his gaze honing in on it, examining it with some measure of bewilderment. Then, some invisible force slices through all the paper seals covering the box and it expands, the corners of the box floating up in midair to reveal what looks like a large sheet of dark red flesh with a large bloodshot eye stapled to the middle.

Disgusting.

If Gojo didn’t realize before, he seems to now, because he takes a step back, away from the grotesque thing. Good, good—

“Hey! Satoru!” Your blood runs cold at the sound of the body snatcher’s voice. He emerges from the crowd, smiling widely as he gives Gojo a wave. “Long time no see!”

Satoru Gojo’s entire body goes rigid. Shit. You told him, you warned him about what was going to happen, who he was going to see, but was that not enough? It’s possible that no amount of warning would have been enough to mentally prepare Satoru Gojo for the sight of the man he said he killed a year ago. After all, you know that there’s a stark difference between knowing and seeing. Even then, if Gojo doesn’t gather his wits and move now then he’s going to get caught and you can’t let that happen.

Your body moves before you can even think about it.

You scramble out from your hiding spot in the crowd and throw yourself in between Satoru Gojo and the prison realm. There’s no way you can kick it away from him now, not when it’s in this form, but maybe, if you get between them you can at least keep it from capturing him.

The eye quivers erratically, as it flits from Gojo to you. Every hair on your body stands on end as it watches you, the pupil dilating and contracting uncontrollably. You can’t look away from it, your own gaze fixed to your image reflected in the black abyss of the pupil. Something in the back of your mind tells you to stop, to get away, it’s dangerous, but you keep your feet firmly planted to the ground.

A second, or maybe even a minute passes and the prison realm shifts, its fleshy form morphing to restrain you.

The body jacker looks at you, his frown tinged with disgust. “Don’t you think you’re being rather rude by butting into what could have been a touching reunion?”

You scowl. Is he still trying to play the role of Suguru Geto?

He sighs and looks past you at Gojo. “Satoru, I thought bringing lesser sorcerers to fight alongside you was more trouble than it was worth?”

You hear Gojo snort from behind you, “It is… but this person here isn’t a sorcerer… Just like you aren’t Suguru Geto.”

The faker almost pouts and presses his hand to his chest as if Gojo's words have wounded him. “Satoru, I’m hurt, how could you say such a thing to your best friend?”

“Cut the bullshit,” Gojo snarls. “You can’t fucking fool me. You might be in Suguru’s body but I know with all my heart and soul that you’re not him.”

The corpse snatcher stares at Gojo, expression blank before he sighs once more. Then, his gaze shifts back to you, his eyes narrowed as he looks at you with sheer disdain. It feels as if you’ve been drenched in ice cold water. There's no smile this time but you already know what's going to happen.

He’s going to kill you.

“I intended to deal with you later since you seemed harmless enough,” he says, raising a hand to summon a monster— the same one he always uses to end your life. “But you’re in the way. So, I think it’s for the best if I just get rid of you right now.”

Instinctively, you try to take a step back but the prison realm’s restraints keep you in place. Not that it would have mattered much, even in the loops where you’ve tried to escape the faker’s monster, it still kills you, too fast and too agile for an ordinary human like you to avoid. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the monster to kill you. At least, it’s always painless.

Something touches your back.

Your eyes shoot open.

Before you is the monster, wiggling and writhing only mere centimeters from your face. It gurgles and snarls at you, desperate to fulfill its master’s wishes and kill you but it doesn’t move any closer. You stare at it with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

Someone behind you clicks their tongue— Gojo. You try to turn your head to look at him, but your movements are too limited, the most you can do is turn your head to the side. The sounds the monster is making start to change, sounding more frenzied, almost as if it’s in pain, and you flit your eyes in its direction just in time to see its entire body explode. The monster's guts and bright purple blood fly off in every direction, getting on the floor, the ceiling, the zombified bodies of the people unfortunate enough to be nearby, but not on you.

This is Satoru Gojo’s doing.

He steps in front of you, half turned towards you as he moves in between you and the body snatcher. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he loudly says, “Did you really forget about me?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the body snatcher.

Past him, the imposter scowls, raising his hand once more, probably to summon even more monsters, but Gojo’s quicker, and it almost looks like his eyes are glowing even brighter, the blue looking almost white as he whips his head in the faker’s direction. The sound of mangling flesh and breaking bones echoes throughout the room as Gojo, using that mysterious power of his, seems to break the faker’s arm.

The body snatcher hisses loudly and despite the fact that his face is twisted in very obvious pain, he tries to shoot Gojo a mocking smile. “Do you really think you can kill your best friend again?”

“I already told you,” Gojo turns to fully face the monster inhabiting Geto’s corpse. He tilts his head a little to the side and some force starts to squeeze at the faker’s neck. “You’re not Suguru.”

You hear a loud crack as Gojo telekinetically snaps his neck.

The head rolls onto the ground and you almost look away, but then you notice his eyes still moving, looking around. Is he still alive? Then you remember: the thing possessing Suguru Geto’s body was some kind of parasite. “Gojo! Wait! The brain!”

He reacts almost instantly, head turning and in an instant the skull is crushed and all that remains is red splotch on the ground.

You almost relax. Almost.

But the body is still standing.

Horrified, you watch as it quivers violently before falling to the ground. Then what looks like dozens of black spirits start to erupt from the corpse and the entire room is engulfed with a shrill howling.

What the hell is going on?

“Those must be all the cursed spirits he consumed,” Gojo explains uselessly, voice barely audible over the screaming. “Guess he was empty before.”

You don’t bother asking what he means. There are bigger problems right now. “What do we do?”

“No choice to exorcise them,” he answers plainly.

For him to exorcise them, he means. You both know that there’s not much that you can do. You still can’t move and honestly, you don’t even know if it’s possible to get out of the prison realm’s restraints. Not without dying. And if you die now…

Everything will have been for naught.

You’ll reset time and have to do this all over again— assuming you can even get to this point again.

There has to be something, you just have to think outside the box.

Or rather—

“Gojo!”

He glances back at you.

“You need to seal me in the prison realm!” you exclaim. He turns to face you fully, looking bewildered and you start to explain as fast as you can. “Those things are going to attack any minute right? I can’t move or try to hide and I can’t expect you to protect me the entire time and if I die then I’ll end up looping time again, but— but, if you seal me in the prison realm then that won’t happen.”

Gojo frowns, looking conflicted. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“Wouldn't it be easier if you didn’t have to?”

He tilts head and you think he’s conceding your point.

“Please,” you beg, staring at him desperately. “We don’t have much time. The other… cursed spirits will wake up soon too!”

You don’t have to explain that you mean Volcano Head and friends.

It takes only a second for Gojo to consider the very few options you have. “...how do you seal it? Do you know?”

“I think so,” you answer. “There’s no guarantee it’ll work but I think that if you say ‘prison realm, gate close’ it should seal me inside.”

If anything, it’s worth a shot.

Gojo nods. “Do you know how to break the seal?”

“I… don’t,” you confess. You never asked, and you don’t think the body snatcher would have told you even if you did. He only told you that it holds one and that…

That time doesn’t flow in the box.

“...you don’t have to break the seal.”

Gojo frowns, “Wait a sec—”

“Even if I make it past tonight… What if this all happens again? What if I inadvertently trap myself in another time loop?” you ask. “I… I don’t want to have to go through all of this again. It’s better for me in a place where time doesn’t pass.”

You don’t know for sure if it’ll be better, but right here, right now, it seems like the best option.

It feels like an eternity passes before Gojo says anything.

“...fine,” he agrees and you don’t quite know how to feel about it. The howling around you all grows louder. You wonder why the cursed spirits haven’t attacked yet. Maybe Gojo’s power is holding them at bay… for now anyway. You both know that he can’t ignore them forever.

“...before I do, though, mind if I ask you just one thing?”

You blink. “Not sure what I can do for you in this state…”

He laughs. “I just want to know your name.”

What an odd request. Though, now that you think about it, you don’t think that during this loop or any other loop really, you’ve ever told him your name. It only seems fair to tell him, since you’ve known his for longer than he’s known of your existence.

You tell him your name.

He nods, looking as if he’s committing to memory. Probably easier to remember than his phone number. “Any last words?”

You try to think of something. Nothing comes to mind and you just shake your head.

Gojo takes a deep breath, “Alrighty then… Prison realm, gate close.”

Just as it did the many times you’ve seen Satoru Gojo sealed away, the boxes and restraints around you vibrate a little before they start to close around you, growing large enough to fit your body as they approach.

You won’t see it, but once you’re inside the box will shrink and become small enough to fit in the palm of someone’s hand.

Will it be quiet inside?

In your final seconds, some words, some last words come to mind, and you say them, hoping that he hears them in time. “Thank you, Satoru Gojo.”

You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.

And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black.

It’s November 30, 2018— morning on the campus of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.

Satoru Gojo strides through the school grounds, casually tossing a small silver box with eerie blue eyes known as the prison realm up and down in his grasp. Walking at his side is Shoko Ieiri, a pretty woman who’s been unfortunate enough to have been Satoru’s friend since high school.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shoko asks, twirling a few strands of her long brown hair.

“What do you mean?” Satoru responds nonchalantly. “All my ideas are good ideas.”

Shoko hums in clear dissent, but doesn’t say anything more. Even she knows better than to try and waste her time trying to argue with Satoru. “I’m just worried about their mental state. Didn’t you say that time doesn’t flow in the box?”

“I’d be worried if it was some normal person,” Satoru says. “But after what they’ve gone through I think they’ll be fine.”

“...well, if you say so.”

The two arrive at their destination: the largest training area on the Jujutsu High grounds. Satoru places the prison realm at the center and takes a few steps back with Shoko standing behind him, in case anything happens.

He doesn’t think it will, but it’s always good to take at least a few precautions.

“Gojo, are you sure we should be doing this?” Shoko asks again. “Didn’t they want to remain in the box?”

“Of course I am,” Satoru says with his usual air of confidence before looking back at the prison realm nestled in the grass. He grins and then—

“Prison realm, gate open.”

if you made it this far. thank you. it's my sincerest hope that you enjoyed the ride. 3

[2tarbell]

hiii star🥰 what do we think about toxic ex bf rafe + forced intox dubcon🫣 like he’s just a mess in shambles without his precious girl and she misses him too but he’s, yk, a controlling psycho (yet unfortunately we love him anyways😔) so he drugs her with some sex pollen / aphrodisiacs to make her come back to him😵‍💫

your mind…. i wanna try to see this with something like CRYBABY!READER!!!! okay so TOXIC!RAFE is a freak but once he’s in, he’s in. and the idea of his sweet girl — his — leaving him? it’s enough to drive him crazy.

it’s one of their many fights, her sobbing and him calling her dramatic. rafe had thought it’d end like all the others: reader wailing herself into a mess & falling into his arms for comfort. but when she turned on her little kitten heel & stormed out of his house, rafe was left astounded. who did she think she was dealing with? he wasn’t about to let her walk away from him, from them.

maybe his heart was in the right place, but sprinkling some aphrodisiac powder in her pink water bottle was saying otherwise. rafe cameron doesn’t beg and he wasn’t about to start. fuck flowers and chocolate — she’ll come crawling back because the ache between her legs is just too much bear & daddy is the only one who can fix it. he smirked as she sashayed out the house again a week later, water bottle held tightly in her manicured hands. now it’s the waiting game.

just like clockwork, she returned later that night with a red, puffy face and thighs pressing together. it was too easy & almost made him feel bad. she was just so dumb, so naive. there was no way in hell she was going to get away from him. so rafe welcomed her in with open arms and a faux concerned brow.

eventually he was knuckle deep in her sopping cunt, her chest heaving and hips arching forward, desperate for relief. his gravelly drawl mumbled reassurances & borderline threats as her eyes rolled back, the pleasure numbing her senses & leaving her only able to nod frantically. just begging him not to stop between sobs.

“shhh — ‘m not g’nna stop, baby. you know why? this is my pussy. a’ight? mine. dontchu ever think different.”

[princessbrunette]

All i can think about is rafe cameron buying you stupidly expensive lingerie sets for christmas😵‍💫 and then after breakfast he asks you to model them🤭

SANTA BABY ♡

gettin me in the festive spirit hehehe this made me wanna spend xmas with the cameron’s so bad :((

cw: christmas duh, family bonding time, i aged Wheezie down to be like 6 years old bc i think it would be cute idk LMAOOO , suggestive themes but nothing too crazy ❀

At his core, Rafe Cameron liked to think he was a family man. He’d often flip out, misbehave, and shit talk his family members it’s true, but Christmas was a time he liked to put it all behind him (Atleast until the new year starts, and he can start up his usual BS)

As you can imagine, Christmas at the Cameron’s was something extravagant. Humungous white christmas tree with silver decorations at the centre of the house, the outside of the house decked with lights that required enough power to start up 3 yachts, fake snow on the porch and Frank Sinatras Christmas album playing round the house at each corner. The years had only softened Ward, and whilst he could be cruel, hard on Rafe and borderline forgetful of Wheezies existence — Christmas was where he shone brightest, just wanting to do right by his kids and now, you, his sons girlfriend.

Receiving presents from the family was a whole different ballgame to your usual Christmas at home, Ward having grinned ear to ear when he handed you the box with the Tiffany’s heart tag charm bracelet glittering under the Christmas lights of the early morning (Wheezie being Wheezie woke everyone up at 6AM sharp.) Rafe, who’d insisted you’d curled right up to his side on the couch wearing his robe resisted an eye roll, his dad always having to out do him, but you seemed elated and he felt his heart warm.

They went all out, Rose handing you a literal 90’s Blumarine runway piece she’d simply overheard you talking Rafes ear off about, the next 5 minutes spent by you and Sarah fawning over it. Sarah’s gift was next, a set of SKIMS dresses you’d been saving to your Pinterest which she couldn’t help but notice, and of course Wheezie proudly handing you a glittery macaroni necklace she’d crafted you at school, which you had no choice but to act like it was the best gift of all.

Come Rafe’s turn, he simply offered his family a smile and patted your side, turning his head to look at you. “I’ve got her presents in my room, figured I’d give it to you privately.” He teases, ignoring Sarah’s ‘Barf’ comment from her cross legged position on the floor beside her little sister.

The family dispersed for a little while, Sarah helping Wheezie set up her new toys on the carpet infront of the tree, Rose and Ward going to start up the food in the kitchen (Ward insists on cooking everything themselves instead of having the chefs do it, because it was tradition.) Before you could wander in there and offer your help, you were being pulled back gently by the arm into your fluffy robe clad boyfriend wearing a poorly masked excited smile. “What, you don’t want your present from me?”

He slides a box from under his bed when you get up to his room again, covered with thin pink gift paper to hide the logo. He sits on his chair, robe falling between his legs and bare knees exposed outwards. “C’mon, sit on santas lap.” He grins and you mirror him, skipping over, happy and spoiled and perching on his leg. He puts the box in your lap and you peel away the paper to see the Agent Provocateur logo with the iconic black ribbon. You widen your eyes at him as if to say ‘Okaaaay, good job’ before wedging your fingertips carefully beneath the cardboard lip and lifting it, seeing 5 sets before you that was perfectly accustomed to your taste.

You remember your trip to the city with Rafe, it was business of course — but you were happy to tag along and walk alongside him watching him handle things for you and his family. You’d spotted the fancy lingerie store, practically pressing yourself up against the glass of the window as you look inside rambling about how you had so many of the sets saved to your Pinterest, pointing out each with your finger smushed to the glass. Rafe nodded distractedly, phone pressed to his ear, leaning on his hip in his gridded shirt and khaki pants that fit too good, before gesturing to you with his thumb that the two of you needed to get moving again, or else you’d be late to the appointment with a buyer. You pout and peel yourself away from the store.

But that was like what, September? Did he go back and buy it all for you? Order it once he’d returned home with you? You’d know Rafe to hold a grudge, but didn’t know his memory served in a positive manner too. “Rafe…” You coo, plucking out the sets and holding them up to admire the intricate lace detailing, spotting matching garters and whatever else you’d mentioned laying in the box. The thought of him fumbling through your underwear drawer trying to figure out your bra size made you giggle, wrapping an arm around his neck in an appreciative squeeze.

“How’d you remember?” Your voice was high in awe, wanting to hold on to this sweet side of Rafe forever.

“Please, I pay attention sometimes y’know.” He smirks modestly, eyes on the box as he admires his work. “So you like it? Yeah?” His hands finding your hips and giving them a soft squeeze.

“Love it, Rafey.” It comes out muffled, because you’re busying yourself with pressing big wet kisses to his cheek, and then eventually his mouth. He pulls away a fraction, lips still brushing yours and eyes cracking open.

“Gonna try it all on for me though, right?” He drawls in that classic Rafe way that you can never say no to and you nod so vigorously you nearly headbutt him. He pats your butt with a pleased hum and pecks you once more. “Atta girl.”

[anadiasmount]

just had this thought after seeing his back 😵‍💫 but thinking about laying down getting ready to go to sleep and jude laying on top of you because the only way he can go to sleep is if you are rubbing his back 🤭🤭

“it’s too hot,” you said, slightly pushing him away from you as you wanted to sleep. jude looked at you with a brow raised, a hint of sadness in his chest as you pushed him away. you had spent the whole day together, shopping, working out, and getting dinner. taking a shower together and even sneaking down to get a sweet treat before bed.

“baby i wanna lay on you…” jude whined, coming to your side and resting his forehead on your shoulder. “not right now jude… we just cuddled for almost two hours!” you say groaning, feeling your skin sticky from the light sweat when you laid together. “i know that but you know me? i can’t sleep when you don’t do that thing.”

“what thing?”

“that thing with your hands on me?”

“it’s been a long day jude. i really want to sleep,” you say tiredly, yawning and laying in your side away from him. “but? y/n?” jude noticed your eyes shut immediately, small breaths leaving your lips as you rested. he didn’t know how it was possible for you to fall asleep that quickly, but he didn’t blame you.

jude twisted and turned for almost 2 hours straight. not being able to find a comfortable spot or even yet get any ounce of sleep. he had to be up and early in the morning but it seemed like he’d only get 4 hours of sleep max. if he fell asleep now.

he tried everything. drinking water, melatonin, scroll on his phone, yet nothing worked. he couldn’t sleep if it wasn’t next to you. you were next to him but fully fully fully next to you. he hated being this clingy but it’s the only way he could fall asleep, on your chest, hands on his back.

jude squinted his eyes, turning on your nightstand lamp, you were fully asleep, not a single noise or attraction being able to wake you. he loved to watch you sleep, knowing you were resting after your hectic job that seemed difficult and unfair. your lips slightly pursed, eyes completely closed, lashes tracing just above your cheekbones, hair tamed and everywhere. he loved it all.

jude drank a huge sip of water, the familiar coldness running down his throat at the drink. he propped himself on his side, taking his finger and slowly pushing away any hair away from your face. “y/n?” jude croaked, internally cringing because he was waking you up due to his neediness. but you kept sleeping.

“y/n?” he said a little louder, making you gasp and sit up. “oh my? oh my gosh? what’s wrong? why are you still up?” you said quickly all jammed, heart beating fast in your chest as your boyfriend looked overworked and extremely tired. you looked at your watch, almost 4am, sighing deeply before rubbing your eyes. “are you okay?” you ask.

jude shook his head, “i can’t sleep, i’ve tried everything but i can’t sleep.” you softly chuckled, pushing your blanket to the side and inviting him in. you could see the cheer and joy in his eyes, not wasting anytime and pushing you down to the bed with him. “you can be so needy you know?” you tease earning a ‘yeah yeah’ from him.

“do that thing.”

“what thing?” you ask curiously, looking down at jude who gave you a ‘you can’t be serious look’. “i don’t know what thing you’re talking about!” you defend, seeing him roll his eyes before speaking up again all groggy. “your hands on my back? where you run your fingers palms? it makes me fall asleep…” jude says shyly, tucking his head in the crook of your neck.

you obliged, jude almost moaning in delight at your soft silky warm hands tan down his shoulders, spine, and jude below his hips. “like that?” you ask, feeling your sleep slowly start to take over once again. “mhmm… just like that…” jude replied, kissing your neck and playing with the small “j” initial on your necklace.

he could feel every slide, sweep, rub, brush, tingle, all run down his back. almost shivering in pleasure. it’s crazy to think how much of an affect it has on him, to the point where he needs to feel your hands rake his back in order to fall asleep. jude fell asleep almost immediately, like a baby.

you continued to do small movements before your hands got tired and stopped. sleep getting the best of you and finally resting with your boyfriend on top of you. his hands around your waist, cheek smushed in your chest, his curls slightly tickling you, his small snores. you would never admit it, but you only slept best in this position.

[pupyuj]

[cw: threesome, overstimulation, voyeurism, exhibitionism (i guess?)]

YA’LLLL i swear i was gonna do jho for my first bini drabble after a while but then i thought about how aiahcey are kinda my danjangz but bini… and ya’ll know crazy i am about danjangz and the same is about to happen to aiahcey like HELLOOOO 😭😭😵‍💫🙏

pretty femme dom gfs save me… save me pretty femme dom gfs…

being the breath of fresh air they need amidst their messy idol life aka their pretty little doll who would willingly do anything for them 🫣 stacey calling you in the middle of the night to come over her house and ofc you're so eager to do just that bcs you're whipped as hell! omg she probably likes to fuck you in front of a mirror all the time.. all to see how embarrassed you look seeing yourself get stretched out and have your cunt abused by your friend like this :(( mapang-asar din minsan si staku so i like to think that she likes to taunt you while fucking you 😭 or even full on insult you just to add to the humiliation 😵‍💫😵‍💫 maybe she’d even record sometimes 🤭 laughing at your tears and whines but immediately cooing at you and kissing your face when you start sobbing—she just loves being annoying to you :((

and where do those videos end up?? right on her ate aiah's dms! i like to think na mahilig magpa-inggit si staku LMAOO saying smth like "look what ur missing out on, u workaholiccc 😝" and the video attached is you being a whiny mess with stacey instructing you to moan aiah's name in the background 😭 this ofc just makes aiah drive up to stacey's house in record time, which stacey loves sm bcs that's totally unlike the aiah she normally sees 🤭

in direct contrast to staku, aiah loves to plan out your meetings where it wouldn't be a convenience to either of you! but sometimes she gets needy and hasty too.. don't forget she's just as obsessed with you as stacey is so she definitely fucks you as soon as she has the opportunity to, she needs you!!

now listen.. pussy drunk aiah losing herself in between your legs while stacey whispers the nastiest shit in your ear as she massages your clit.. her even grabbing aiah's head and pushing her closer to your cunt just to get you to moan their names 😩😩 i'm a painslut!stacey believer so she would loveee to feel your nails digging into her skin or scratching her arm when she's doing too much 😭 even goes as far as to admire the marks you leave on her afterwards?? she's a lil freak what can i say!! and then there's your sweet ate aiah being a soft dom at heart 🥺 constantly looking up at you with worry in her eyes bcs she never wants to push you over the edge too much :(( their dynamic is kinda funny to me NOBODY GETS IT.

"staku.. i think she's had enough.. mh.."

"no, no, isa pa. she likes that, believe me. look at her! and look at you! gustong-gusto mo pa.."

aiah absolutely loves it when you make a mess all over her beautiful face! a little embarrassing for you but the satisfied look on her face makes it worth the trouble 🤭 and yk what's even hotter than watching aiah wipe her chin clean and suck your juices with her fingers?? watching stacey pull her close and kiss her, hearing her moan at how you tasted on aiah's tongue.. well, who wouldn't get wet again at the sight of that?! 😵‍💫

expect only the best and softest aftercare the coming morning! both of them are cuddling you and spoon-feeding you food while you all chill on stacey's couch watching teleseryes and movies 🥰🥰 probably until the two of them feel like fucking you all over again which usually only takes about the first thirty minutes of a movie.. 😛

[be-my-sunrise]

2:27am

pairings: jaemin x rem!reader

word count: 497

warnings: suggestive content

Jaemin feels like he just hit the jackpot. He walked in on you at the kitchen, looking all frustrated. His roommate has brought yet another girl back with him and forgot to let Jaemin know. Otherwise, he would've crashed somewhere.

He was about to go back to his room when he got the idea. He just couldn't bear leaving you like that. Not when he also has a raging boner right now.

"I can do a way better job than him, you know."

You flinch when you hear Jaemin's voice behind you, body tensing as you feel his body so close to you.

"W-what?" You stutter. You want to move away from him, but your body just freezes for no reason.

"I think you know what I'm talking about. How about we go to my room and I can show you, hm?

Jaemin brushes your hair off of your shoulder, making you shudder when you feel his hot breath on your neck. His body is so close to yours that you can feel his cock pressing against your ass. Almost immediately, he smirks when he feels you grinding back against him.

He whispers lowly in your ear. "You don't even have to worry about faking it with me."

Your eyes go wide and you quickly turn around to face him. "How did you know that?"

"I just can tell. So, what do you say, angel?"

Jaemin tucks a finger under your chin, slightly lifting it up. Even though it's dark, you can clearly see his features from how close his face is to yours. You feel your heart pounding against your chest.

"But he'll hear us."

"Let him hear. Maybe he can learn a thing or two on how to properly fuck someone."

You'd be lying if you say you didn't consider it, but you kind of feel bad for your other friend. Although he didn't do a good job earlier, you don't want to embarrass him. You pull away from Jaemin and take a step back.

"Sorry, I don't think that's a good idea." You clear your throat. "Uhh–I'll get going now."

You walk away, but Jaemin catches your wrist before you can walk further.

"Fine, let's do it in my car then."

You turn to him, and he inches closer to you. "Do us both a favor, and let's help each other out. I'll drive you home too."

Okay, now you're seriously considering his offer. You're so desperate for a release, and it's driving you crazy. Jaemin looks at you with pleading eyes, patiently waiting for your response.

You've heard talks about how good Jaemin is in bed, and it's definitely better to have him fuck you senseless rather than using your vibrator back at home. It's also nice of him to offer to take you home too.

"Alright, let's do it."

Jaemin smiles and pulls you in for a short kiss. "I'll take good care of you, angel. I know you won't regret it."

a/n: jaemin calling you angel>>>>>> 😵‍💫🫠

[allisonlol]

OO, how would jouno(you can also add whoever you want but JOUNO HEHZGEZGE i love him sm omg) be w an S/o who is very much stuck in the "crush phase", like giggling, blushing, smiling, hiding their face, and everything

a/n: this is such a cute idea 😵‍💫 !! def how i’d act around jouno too like oh my!!!! i also added tecchou cuz how could i not

warnings: none

(Jouno, Tecchou) With a S/O Stuck in the Crush Phase

Jouno

he def acts all annoyed but secretly loves this shit

jouno can already tell that u still get nervous and excited to see him by the sounds of your heartbeat 😭

but it warms his heart (something we all thought was impossible) that you aren’t ashamed to hide these actions

bro can’t even walk by you without u getting all flustered and hiding ur face…which is valid bc jouno is very pretty !

but he’ll sigh and shake his head, telling u to “stop being dramatic” 😭

^dw he is very much being lighthearted here and doesn’t entirely mean that!! jouno is just…not used to this kind of reaction to his presence so it throws him off a bit

the worst is when u do this shit in public 💀

^y’all will go to the store together and he leans over u to grab something off a high shelf…needless to say u are blushing and giggling like crazy (I WOULD TOO!!)

jouno gets all embarrassed and is like “STOP we are in public 😓”

which only makes it worse cuz he is so cute when he’s irritated

omfg the other hunting dogs def tease him about this 😭 tachihara practically follows jouno around asking how he can get ppl to act that way around him too??

but anyway. jouno abuses this power he has over u and purposefully does things to fluster u

^such as standing close to you, giving u random kisses, putting his arm around ur waist etc

may act like he hates it but the man has such a soft spot for u <3

Tecchou

tecchou genuinely does not fully understand how pretty he is nor the effect it has on u

he’s so tall…and strong…and OBLIVIOUS to how ur practically shaking next to him with how flustered u are

keeps asking if ur ok 💀 “are you sick, y/n? your face is all red”

gee i wonder why tecchou

whenever he bends down to kiss u, u get so nervous that you cover ur face with ur hands

he thinks this means u don’t want him to kiss u tho and is like “i’m sorry 😥”

you’re quick to explain that it’s just cuz u still get nervous around him!! but he can’t really fathom the effect he has on ppl so he’s a bit like ?????

^probably says some shit like “but i’ve literally seen u naked, why are you still nervous around me” 🫠

after awhile tecchou picks up on what is going on and sometimes messes with u to get a reaction

^holds ur face in his hands and just looks at u adoringly before giving u lots of kisses!!! u have to push him away cuz ur blushing so hard

plays it off SO WELL tho like you’d never know he’s doing this shit on purpose

i feel like tecchou was never someone to think much abt his physical appearance or how other ppl perceive him in that way, so ur reactions make him feel something new 🥹

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: When your best friend crashes into your bedroom, covered in blood and bruises, you are sick with worry.

Genre: hurt and comfort, fluff

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of blood, description of injuries, swearing, mature themes, Dave and reader are aged-up (18).

~ here ya go lovely @ihardlykn0wher — i love tropes like these — hurt and comfort is my shit 😵‍💫🙏~

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

Dave's patrol was going smoothly for most of the evening—easy stuff, like saving kittens and helping old ladies cross the road—but when he found himself in an alley, surrounded by four much brawnier men than him, he knew he'd gotten in over his head. 

Again.

You'd scold him, he knows that, but he honestly doesn't know who else to turn to so, he finds himself clutching his side with one hand as his other hand skims your half-open window. 

As soon as the window opens fully, Dave slips inside and clumsily stumbles over your desk, collapsing onto your bed, blood from his lip staining your pillow. 

"David," you say breathlessly as you cautiously cup his cheek in your hands and shift onto your knees next to him, helping him sit up. You look him over, he's bleeding through his Kick-Ass suit and his skin is black-and-blue with bruises.

"Oh my fuck! What happened?" you curse and reach over his shoulder to find the zipper of his wet suit to free him.

You have to help him. 

Dave has blood in his mouth and on his lips, a deep gash on his chin, a bruised eye, and his nose is obviously broken. "I swear I'll murder whoever did this to you," you whisper as you lean him against your wall, slipping down his suit and removing his mask. "You're lucky my parents aren't home," you say and tilt his head, checking his injuries more closely. 

"I'm okay. I promise I'm okay," he groans, his voice whiny, and he leans his head on the wall behind him.

"Hush, no you aren't," you exclaim as you quickly stand and disappear into your bathroom, returning only seconds later with bandaids, tissues, and some hydrogen peroxide in your arms.

You kneel next to him again, ignoring how flustered you've become over Dave being shirtless in front of you as you look at all the blood. 

"You're crazy," you mutter and apply some hydrogen peroxide onto the tissue and dab at the wound on his side near his ribs. 

"It doesn't even hurt that bad, because of my—nerve endings, you know," Dave says and it's the truth, but that doesn't reassure you.

"You look like someone just ran you over!" you whisper and shift to take another tissue and dab the bruises on his cheekbone and under his eye, "You promised me you'd be careful," you say, sounding worried and upset all in one emotion.

"I am careful," Dave insists and you shake your head. 

"No, you aren't. Look at you. You aren't careful, you never were," you say and brush some damp curls away from his eyes, you look at him with such concern his heart breaks. 

You and Dave have never spoken about the mutual feelings you both harbor, but something about this entire situation feels so intimate. "I'm worried," you admit, your voice small. 

Dave reaches for you, wanting to cup your cheek, but he retreats his hand when he sees it's all bloody. He doesn't want to taint your skin with his filth. He feels so ashamed—ashamed that he's not skilled enough to truly win any fights, and ashamed that he puts you in the position to clean him up. 

He loves you too much to continue doing this to you. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, hissing in pain as you clean his side again. He's bleeding all over your sheets and the pants of his suit. You stand again, grabbing gauze from your bathroom cabinet to wrap around his torso. You return and lift his arms, tending to him. 

"Don't do that," you whisper, not looking at him.

"Do what?" Dave whimpers.

"Apologize when you don't mean it," you say and now you look at him, "You aren't sorry you do this. You want to do this–and you aren't gonna stop. Kick-Ass is who you are, Dave. You're not sorry you go out almost every night and get beaten to a pulp because you know you help people—and I admire that so much—but I- I just—I can't lose Dave because of Kick-Ass."

Dave's eyes soften and he watches as you finish bandaging him up. Blood still sticks to his skin and he still can't see you clearly from his left eye but he feels a little better because you understand. 

"I am sorry I worry you," he says honestly.

You look at him, sitting back on your heels, "It's okay I suppose," you whisper and then pause, an undeniable need to cheer him up. "You want me to clean up your face and then watch that superhero movie you've been wanting me to see? The newest Spiderman?" 

Dave smiles a little, "I think I can wash up alone, I don't want to burden you even more."

"No, I want to help," you stand and he follows, his suit hanging from his hips. "Do you need some clothes?" you ask, hiding a blush as your eyes wander over his chest. 

Shit, he really does have abs. 

Dave nods and you find him some of his sweatpants and sweatshirts he often leaves in your drawer. You hand them to him and then help him wash the blood from his face. He chuckles at the sensation and the strands of hair you've accidentally wet from the washcloth dangle over his eyes. 

He's gorgeous. You want nothing more than to kiss him.

"Remember when I did this for you?" Dave whispers, smiling and accentuating the smile lines that crinkle the corner of his eyes. 

You frown and slide the cloth down his nose, which causes him to wince. He really needs to check his broken nose. "When?"

"Junior year? You bumped into a lamp post outside of the comic book store?—I think you were excited about something and were so immersed in the conversation that you didn't see the pole," Dave explains fondly but embarrassment burns your chest, "and I had to clean up your bloody nose in the bathroom of Jerry's Diner. You were so embarrassed."

"Yeah, no shit I was. Thanks for the reminder, Lizewski," you grumble, putting the cloth under the warm water again and then returning to clean the blood under his chin. "That's not the same situation though. You're out dealing with crime and I'm a clumsy idiot."

"It was cute," Dave blurts out and your cheeks burn even more. It's an unintentional charm—Dave does it all the time. To you, he's never truly aware of the way his words affect you. To him, he knows exactly what he's doing.

He'd never tell you that of course. He hides behind his nerdiness, especially when it comes to you. It protects him—saves him if his flirting ever sounds too stupid. 

God, he really wants to kiss you.  

"Glad you thought so," you joke and rinse the cloth in the sink. You pat his arm. "There, all better." You look at the clothes still in his arms. "Change and I'll put on the movie downstairs—my parents aren't home so we have the house to ourselves," you remind him.

Dave nods, pink lips slightly parted so stunningly, as the words echo in his head. House to ourselves. He's just a boy after all and his mind wanders.

You frown and peek in once more, smiling cheekily as you take the opportunity to tease him. "Mind out the gutter, Lizewski," you say with a wink and he blushes so hard, almost stumbling over the toilet as he nods. 

When you shut the door behind you, you lean against it letting out a breath as you think of the image of Dave—shirtless and bloody—as you hear shuffling from inside. 

Fuck, you pretend to bang your head on the door in frustration, you can't find your best friend, half-naked, injured, and covered in blood hot! That is so so wrong. 

But you do, you really do, and you curse yourself. 

Get your mind out of the gutter—shit, you aren't any better than a teenage boy. 

[chrisevansonly]

𝐄𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

✯social media au

✯charles leclerc x female reader

✯safe to say both you and your boyfriend are enamoured with one another

✯been feeling down recently and wanted to get a little something out…i hope this is okay 🩷

yninstagram

liked by gqeurope, charles_leclerc, lilyhme and 643,000 others

the girls that get it get it, and the ones that don’t? you’re missing out

tagged charles_leclerc

see 87,000 comments

username i love that she shares charles with us😭

>yninstagram sharing is caring😌

username y/n is us…

lilyhme please😭

>yninstagram as if you don’t feel this way about alex 🤔

>lilyhme touché

username YES Y/N GETS IT

charles_leclerc im flattered baby😘

>yninstagram good, you should be🥰

username petition for y/n to start using memes 24/7

arthur_leclerc you are blinded by love you know that? he looks like a thumb

>yninstagram okay which makes you a big toe thur try again

>arthur_leclerc 😑

charles_leclerc

liked by yninstagram, scuderiaferrari, leclerc_pascale and 765,000 others

little pre season ski adventure 😎

see 67,000 comments

username don’t look at me like that charles

>username as IF he’s looking at his girl 💀

liked by charles_leclerc

>username HAHAHAHA HE LIKED😭

yninstagram funny you didn’t credit the photographer

liked by charles_leclerc

yninstagram damn baby you got fine written all over you😍

>charles_leclerc you are crazy you know that?

>yninstagram crazy for you 😍😍😍😍😍

yninstagram wanna get a hot chocolate with me?🤤

username Y/N IS SENDING ME RN

leclerc_pascale be safe you two!!!

liked by charles_leclerc and yninstagram

username i want someone obsessed with me like y/n is obsessed with charles…

scuderiaferrari❤️

charles_leclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

yninstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, vogue, francisca.cgomes and 546,000 others

the closest i got to the actual snow, charles can laugh all he wants while i stay warm inside 😁

tagged charles_leclerc

see 56,000 comments

username she is quite literally everything to me

username charles looks so happy 😭

charles_leclerc woooooow

charles_leclerc god

charles_leclerc have my children?❤️❤️

>yninstagram CHARLES😭 (yes…)

>carlossainz55 there it is💀

>leclerc_pascale baby on the way???

>yninstagram non maman!! 😅❤️

username PASCALE😭

username charles is unhinged

>username i would be too if i was with y/n

yninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

charles_leclerc

liked by carla.brocker, yninstagram, joristrouche and 674,000 others

back in monaco with my favourite workout partner❤️

tagged yninstagram

see 67,000 comments

username the prettiest!!!

username i need to know where that set is from!!

>yninstagram lululemon!!🩷

username charles really is lucky asf

yninstagram i love you!!!

yninstagram i don’t love waking up at 6am to work out😃

>charles_leclerc i make it worth your while 😉

>arthur_leclerc BRO😭😭

username i can’t keep defending you charles 💀💀

charles_leclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

yninstagram and charles_leclerc

liked by riviayachts, charles_leclerc, voguegermany and 743,000 others

about last night…thank you to the monaco yacht club for having charles and I out for the Ferreti event! the evening was beautiful, we can’t wait to do it again🩵

tagged riviayachts, ferreti group, charles_leclerc

see 78,000 comments

username JAWS WERE DROPPED, THE WORLD STOPPED

username bi panic, bi panic, bi panic!!!!!!!

username oh god oh god 😵‍💫

charles_leclerc you looked beautiful baby❤️

>yninstagram and you looked so handsome 😘

voguegermany😍😍

liked by yninstagram

francisca.cgomes oh wow baby!!!!!

>yninstagram😘😘

username i think i need to restart my brain😃😃

yninstagram

liked by arthur_leclerc, wagsofformula1, charles_leclerc and 457,000 others

then, now and forever. grateful i get to spend each and everyday with you, there is no one better at keeping my heart safe, cherished and loved.

je t’aime tellement mon amour❤️

tagged charles_leclerc

see 56,000 others

username no no no I CANT CRY ANYMORE

username it’s really wholesome seeing how much y/n really loves charles :(

>yninstagram 🥺🥺🥺

leclerc_pascale mes bébé 😘

>yninstagram je t’aime maman!❤️

charles_leclerc i love you, i’ll forever keep your heart safe with me❤️

liked by yninstagram

username someone get me some kleenex and a bucket of bleach🥲🥲

[why4anne]

Daylight

Part: 7/?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Social Media au

Summary: Follow the love story of a global pop icon and a monegasque F1 driver

Face claim: Taylor Swift (Singing) + others

Masterlist

2022

theathletesgala

liked by yourusername, ellenpompeo and 645 943 others

theathletesgala:

Musical guest and award presenter Y/N L/N is in the building. She's wearing a stunning Versace gown and a killer cat eye.

view comments:

yourusername: 🫶🫶

y/nenjoyer: she looks STUNNING!!

girlypopy/n: Dare I say... Revenge dress?

vintagel/n: Oh, definitely!

holyleclerc: It's giving Princess Diana

lonely4lifer: Charles, look at what you lost

havemyleclerc: She is the one who fumbled

summery/n: Y/N lost a second tier F1 driver, Charles lost global pop icon, highest streamed female artist, the woman, the myth, the legend Y/N L/N

leclerctingzz: He's not a second tier F1 driver, he's the future of Ferrari

ubery/n: How many WDC?

childofdivorce: Auntie Blake pick me up I'm scared

lewishamilton: @/donatella_versace you outdid yourself with this dress

donatella_versace: Donatella VERSACE💜

theathletesgala:

liked by lewishamilton, simonebiles and 426 392 others

theathletesgala:

It's a star-studded event here tonight. Multiple athletes have now made their way onto the red carpet including:

Formula 1 drivers Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, Footballers Neymar and Alex Morgan, Gymnast Simone Biles, Figure-skater Tessa Virtue and NFL Quarterback Joe Burrow

Keep your eyes open for your favorite athlete to arrive!

view comments:

joeyb_9: Such a well organized event!

lewishamilton: Blessed to be here🙏

charles_leclerc: Happy to be included❤️

alexmorgan13: This will be so much fun

moreleclerc: Putting Neymar and Charles beside each other is CRAZY

lilttley/n: Okay but can we talk about how both Lewis Hamilton AND Joe Burrow interacted on the post about Y/N earlier??

gemmal/n: Y/N now has the chance to do the funniest thing ever and get with Max Verstappen

home4l/n: STOP- that would be too iconic

justleclerc: The world is not ready for that sort of chaos

theathletesgala

liked by yourusername, badgalriri and 742 674 others

theathletesgala:

Miss Y/N L/N what a performance!🙌👏

view comments:

heavenlyy/n: Mother did not come to play tonight!

realy/nfan: fr! She saw that both of her exes were in attendance and said "hold my wine glass"

unifiedy/n: Singing ATW and you're loosing me back to back while STARING at table number 12 (Charles and Neymar's table) is absolutely FOUL!

justl/nthingz: She's so cunty, I love it!

l/ny/nfavorite: Okay but why is no one talking about how she literally sang silver springs by Fleetwood Mac and in true Stevie Nicks fashion was glaring daggers into Charles while doing so!!!!!???

bluey/n: next level balls frfr!

bobbiey/n: Okay but that outfit??? Mother ATE!🔥

holyl/n: Ass out and everything for Charles to see🤭

justy/nfans: I just know that that man will go home and cry himself to sleep tonight

celebritynews

Liked by 202 392 people

celebritynews:

After receiving an anonymous tip from a reliable source, it seems as if Y/N L/N left the athletes gala after party with one of the guests of the night. Who it was is still unclear but stay tuned on celebritynews for more information!

view comments:

summery/n: This girl is a wag at heart

flowersbyl/n: That's so true! She does love her athletes😭

y/nleftpinkynail: Honestly she's so real for that😍

l/nbyy/n: Just like me fr!

chad.larsen: She's such a slut!🙄

leclerc_l/n: Bro GTFO with your musty ass comments!!🤢

brianyoung: Watch out whoever it is. She's gonna write a song about you😵‍💫

littley/n: It's almost like THAT'S HER FUCKING JOB???🤯

greenflowers: misogyny☕️

l/nhouse: Okay but who was it???!!!!

justagirl: I think it was Joe Burrow, did you see how he was looking at her while she was performing??😍

godlyy/n: I hope with my entire being that it's Max Verstappen💀

slayvettel: That would be too iconic!!

icemanfan: Y'all tripping, it's gotta be Lewis!

heavenlyy/n: HOLD UP! What if it was Neymar??

yourusername

liked by blakelively, nicorosberg and 6 582 194 others

yourusername:

cellphone on silent📱❌

comments are disabled:

Tag-list: @mindflay3r @karmabyfernando @lightdragonrayne @ilove-tswizzle @sadg3 @sassyheroneckgiant @c-losur3 @spideybv28 @boiohboii @charizznorizz @amel1ee @loloekie @sunny44 @janeholt3 @berrnuu

[endlessthxxghts]

Need You

Husband!Frankie Morales x wife!afab!reader || W/C: ≈5k

Summary: Tío Santi comes to the rescue when Frankie confides in him about how the two of you have been way too busy for one another.

Warnings: Crazy events of Triple Frontier don't happen; let's just give these guys some happiness. Instead of coke, Frankie’s drug is you (LMAOOO). No “y/n.” No physical descriptions of reader (besides clothing choices), she looks like you😏 and big strong man Frankie can carry you <333. Reader knows a bit of Spanish. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Slow and sloppy😵‍💫. Breeding kink. Domestic kink (they get really spurred on calling each other husband and wife/esposo y esposa). Possessive kink. Daddy kink (but in the sense that reader just loves seeing Frankie as a Dad and wants to give more babies to parent!!!). Pussy slapping... Cum play/eating. Vaginal fingering/fucking. Squirting. Slight Dom!Frankie (he just really wants to hear his wife beg for his cum!!). Mentions of shower ✨activities✨. A lot of love basically — physically and emotionally. Extra warning for the parents who can’t leave their child with other people — Tío Santi takes their baby out to eat and get treats; she’s in good hands, I promise!!!

A/N: Husband Frankie is rotting my brain bad. Especially girl dad!Frankie. My ovaries are screaming. So here's this little 5k bad boy I whipped up. This is very much a porn with a bit of (yummy domestic) plot. Hope y’all enjoy. Thank you to my sweet sweet bae @javierpena-inatacvest for proof-reading this and hyping me up since it’s my first Frankie story to be posted! I love you so much 🥹🥹💚 (edit: someone had a comment about why Isa is amorcito instead of amorcita, so in case you had that question as well, read my explanation here!)

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

“Querida, I’m home!” Frankie called out. 

“In Isa’s room, baby!” you responded. 

Santi tagged along on his treck home today, offering to take Isa out for lunch and sweets after Frankie told him how both of you have been crazy busy lately. He helps himself to the kitchen while Frankie makes his way to you.

Frankie lightly knocks on the door before entering, gasping out in delight to earn a bubbly reaction from his three year old daughter. “Ay, mi esposa (my wife),” he exclaims, giving you a soft kiss to your lips. He looks to his daughter and grabs her from you, “y mi amorcito (and my little love),” he says, throwing her up in the air, coaxing a few more giggles out of her. 

He sets her back down to play with her toys, and Frankie turns to you, pulling you in for a proper hello. Your lips slot against each other in a needy embrace, still as reserved as you two can be with your child in the room. He pulls away first, arms not leaving your waist. “Hi, mama,” he says with an adoring smile. “Hi, honey,” you respond, heart still skipping a few beats as if it’s your first time meeting him. He guides you to outside the doorway, closing Isa’s room ajar, so you both are out of her view.

“Santi’s here,” he tells you. “He offered to, uh, take Isa out to get food and some dessert,” he adds nonchalantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It’s been three years since your baby was born, and still you’re always reluctant to leave her with others. It’s not that you don’t trust the people you leave her with, it’s the fact that if anything were to happen — Gods forbid — you wouldn’t be able to be there, to comfort and protect her. 

Your eyebrow raises in response. He squeezes you tighter into him, ducking closer to your ear. “And I was thinking,” he kisses the sweet spot near your pulse point, “we could take some time for ourselves?” He continues kissing and nipping at your neck, uttering a small please baby as he makes his way back to your lips. 

Little did Frankie know, you didn’t need any convincing at all. You were just about ready to drop her off at your parents as soon as he got home from work today. You don’t tell him though. You like hearing him be a little desperate for you. 

His hand skates lower to your ass, the other hand making its way to cup your front. “It’s been weeks, baby, I need to taste her,” he says, damn near a whine. 

You grab both sides of his face and pull him into a searing kiss. “Go pack her bag,” you whisper as you pull away from his grasp, making your way to Santi to give him the rundown. 

In record time, Frankie packs Isa’s go bag in under five minutes: diapers, extra change of clothes, baby wipes, baby Benadryl, and some of her comfort snacks just in case she’s extra picky today. He picks up his baby, assessing if she needs a diaper change — she’s dry — and heads to the kitchen. “Wanna hang with Tío Santi today, mi amor?”

Her face lights up, and she squeals, “yes, daddy, pleeeeaaase!” 

He chuckles, his heart warming at how much she loves his best friend, his brother. 

He and Isa enter the kitchen to you giving Santi the rundown on her allergies. 

“We exposed her to all the major allergens already and no reactions, except for peanuts — she gets a little red, so just watch out for that. There’ll be Benadryl in her pack just in case.”

Santi gives you a salute, “Sir, yes, sir.” 

You playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “One more thing,” you say as you go to kiss your baby goodbye. “Usually I’d ask if you could send pictures throughout the time you’re gone…” you look at Frankie. 

Santi smirks, knowing where this is headed. 

“But you don’t have to. At least for today,” your face remains composed, but the heat spreading across your cheeks exposes you. 

“Got it. No peanuts,” Santi says, reaching for the bag off Frankie’s shoulder and the keys from his pocket, “and no interruptions,” he winks at you both. “Let me know when you guys are ready for us to come back,” he looks to his beautiful niece in her mother’s arms, peppering her with goodbye kisses. 

“Vamanos (let’s go), mija!” Santi says, prying her out of your arms. Frankie reaches to give her one last kiss on her forehead, and they’re out the door. 

As soon as the front door clicks shut, Frankie is on you in an instant, too riled up to wait until you’re in the bedroom. He needs you badly, and he needs you now. He’s caging you in between his body and the kitchen counter, lips on you like he’ll die tonight if he doesn’t touch you. Your lungs are burning for air, yet you don’t pull away. You can’t. He’s too addicting. Too much time has passed without the pleasure you two bring one another, so you’ll sacrifice one survival need for another. 

Before you know it, his hands are at the base of your ass, lifting you to the kitchen counter, and his lips are dragging down your jaw, your neck, and into your cleavage, nipping every little exposed place your cropped tank allows him. His hands are at the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down as he brings himself to his knees. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he takes a deep breath in. His eyes are impossibly darker, demeanor turning animalistic as he feels just your sweats alone and no underwear. He gets a view of your already glistening pussy, and he can’t help the growl that leaves his throat. 

He settles his hands under the globe of your ass and scoots you to the edge, your thighs finding solace on his shoulders. You immediately lean back on your elbows, knowing the moment his mouth is on you, your body will go weak at his touch. 

Without any warning, his tongue licks the entirety of your leaking seam, hands automatically gripping you tighter as the taste of you hits his tongue. The sound that leaves you sends shivers down his spine, his cock painfully hard and leaking in his jeans. He licks you a few more times, letting his drool drip down his tongue and spread all over you, making you a soaking mess of your arousal and his spit. 

Once you’re drenched to his liking, he dives right in, face completely flushed against your sex, sloppily sucking and licking into you, hitting all the right buttons to make you see fucking stars. By his hands or his tongue, he still knows how to steer you in the direction of the most beautiful constellations, even if they are behind your eyelids. 

“Frankie, fuck-!” you yell out, your inhibitions automatically down with the fact that the house is left to the two of you. Frankie’s hips involuntarily buck into nothing at your moans, missing the sounds you always made for him. Ever since Isa was born, both of you made a conscious effort to work on your noise levels — especially you. You were the most vocal he’s ever been with, and fuck if it didn’t make him all the more whipped. He almost forgot what your sounds do to him. Almost. But now that you’ve given him a taste again after so long, he needs more. 

He circles your clit a few times and sucks it, hard. He pulls off with a lewd pop, his dominant hand leaving your ass and making its way to your entrance. You’re such a fucking mess that his two fingers slide right in, giving you the extra push Frankie needed to pull more heavenly moans and whimpers out of you. “Let me hear you, mama,” he says, tongue circling your clit as his fingers work you to the edge. “Sing for me, baby,” and with what little strength you have, you force your head forward to watch his ministrations, and the sight is what sends you falling first. Frankie’s mouth is wrapped around the entirety of you, eyes dark and on yours, his hooked nose rubbing against all the right places while his arm muscles ripple as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. 

“Shit- oh, fuck-” you whine out, your head like a bobble head, too heavy to maintain upright. Frankie curls his fingers just right, and-

 “Oh my God, Francisco, oh my God!” Your hips are bucking into his face, his own strength unable to keep your hips down with how hard your orgasm is hitting you. He lets you ride out your wave on his face, drinking every last drop coming out of you. 

His fingers are out of you now, Frankie immediately cleaning them in his mouth, not wanting to Iet any of your sweet syrup go to waste. Your chest is heaving, eyes clamped shut, and your body is entirely limp. Frankie stands to his full height, and he’s pulling you up to sit up straight, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. He chuckles a little. “Still with me?” 

Your torso loses its strength momentarily, and you almost fall back. His arms immediately wrap around you, supporting you to maintain your upright position. You laugh at yourself, a blissed out smile gracing your face. He feels his heart flutter, just as strong as when he first met you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, you monster,” you lightly laugh, resting your head on him. “God, I love you,” your voice slightly muffled from burrowing yourself into his chest. 

His one hand leaves your back and wraps itself around your jaw, bringing your lips up to his. You can taste yourself on him, and you can already feel another fire being lit deep in your core, your arousal dripping onto the kitchen counter as your lips continue with his. 

You pull away, breathless, ready for more. “Take me to bed, baby.” 

“You sure you’re ready now?” He smirks. 

“Keep teasing, and I won’t let you cum inside of me, big boy.” 

His lips find yours again in a bruising manner, a growl leaves him as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. “Last I checked, you were the one begging for me to fuck my cum so deep inside you that it had no other option but to latch on. If that’s what you want again, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” 

You whimper in response, your spurt of dominance dissipating immediately. 

“That what you want, baby? Come on, tell me. I wanna hear it.” 

Your eyes are glossing over, too pent up with a fertile need to get your brain to come up with any kind of response. His grasp on your jaw tightens, his lips ghosting yours as he talks. “Tell me you want my cum, baby. Tell me you want me to fill you up so fucking full of me.” 

“Yes, baby, fuck, I need you. I need you inside of me, I need you to fill me. Please, you’re such a good daddy, I wanna give you more, please,” you ramble on. His mouth is on you again in a sloppy embrace as he picks you up and guides you two to your bedroom. 

He sets you down at the edge of the bed. He guides your shirt off, then his. He pulls back for a second and shucks his bottoms off, giving you a complete view of his tanned and toned naked body, his little tummy a little soft around the edges. Your pussy is crying at the sight. 

You don’t waste anymore time as you settle yourself to the center of your bed, your legs already falling open with muscle memory. Frankie licks his lips at the sight. Part of him just wants to go down on you again, but the way his cock is screaming at him for release and your pussy is clenching on nothing—yeah, his oral fixation can wait. 

He settles himself in between your legs. His hands are grounded into the pillow beside your head as your legs automatically hook around his waist. He rubs his length across your wetness, you mewl for him as he lets his tip drag across your clit. 

“Baby, please,” you whine. 

“I’ve got you, baby.” 

His tip breaches your entrance. God, you’ve missed him so much, and you tell him exactly that. 

His lips are on yours, never really satiated with the amount of kisses he takes from you, “I fuckin’ missed you so much.” He pushes deeper in. “God, my beautiful wife, I love you so much,” he breathes out as his lips graze your temple. 

His hips are flushed with yours, your hands secure themselves around his neck. “Please, baby, let’s never go this long again, I need you so bad,” he rasps. He’s pulling out again, his head kissing your core. “Need you always,” he says as he pushes back in, maintaining a slow but hard rhythm.

You pull him impossibly closer into you, your hands grasping and feeling him anywhere you can reach. You rock your hips to meet every push and pull of his own, lips ghosting each other with each movement, your eyes threatening to roll back at how entirely full you feel. 

He’s taking his fucking time with you tonight, fucking you slowly into the mattress, harder with each thrust, reveling in sound of your pussy each time he pushes in, and he can’t help the way he smiles into the sloppy kisses and shared breaths. 

You’re a complete mess, tears falling from your eyes at how addicting he feels mixed with the pure love you have for this man. You really don’t even register what you’re babbling about, but that doesn’t matter. Frankie’s in heaven listening to a mixture of your drawn out moans, the occasional Lord’s name in vain, and the repeated I love you, baby, I love you so much.

One of his hands drag down to your clit, rubbing clumsy yet perfect circles, forcing your dam to finally break. He’s completely soaked in you and so are your thighs and the bedsheets. Your fall is slow but all-consuming. Your back arches into him, your nipples rubbing deliciously against his chest, and the feeling is the final push that sends him painting your walls white. 

His hand leaves your swollen clit and wraps itself around your lower back, helping you maintain your arch form as he continues rocking himself into you well into his softened state. He can feel your body start to tense out of overstimulation, so he finally pulls out of you, leaving you a leaking mess of both your and his cum. He sits back on his hunches, his fingers drawing circles on your inner thighs, just admiring the sight until his cock begins to stir again. 

“Jesus, Morales,” you giggle breathily as you clocked the jump of his length.

He leans over you again, giving you a sweet, lengthy kiss as he begins to slide himself off the bed. “What can I say, baby? I’m insatiable with you,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. 

He heads to the kitchen, returning to the bedroom with a chilled glass of water for you. “Drink up,” he says.

Before he makes it to the en suite bathroom, he adds, “I’m not done with you yet, mama.”

Despite the sensitivity down there, your pussy flutters at his words, craving him down there in any way shape or form.

He returns with a warm cloth, cleaning you up as best as he can with your second round of slick and his endless load of cum pouring from you. He sets the cloth down somewhere on the floor and situates himself up against the headboard. He wordlessly guides you to lay between his legs, your chest resting against his. 

“Wanna check on Isa?” Frankie asks, albeit a little shy. You smirk a little, knowing you’re usually the one to cave first. You make grabby hands at your phone on the nightstand, nudging Frankie to grab it since his wingspan is much larger than yours. He hands it to you, and you immediately dial Santi, hitting the speaker button as it rings.

“Hey, Santi.” 

“Hey, Mrs. Fish,” you can hear him laugh at his name for you. Frankie also gives a little laugh. He thought it was the funniest thing he’s ever said during your guys’ wedding reception. He calls you that more than your own name now. 

“How’s it going?” you try to ask in an unconcerned fashion. Santi knows you both all too well to know that isn’t the case. 

“You know you two didn’t have to quit just to check on her, right? Tío Santi knows how to distract! Also, tío Santi knows how to put her down for a nap!” He says proudly.

“I believe you, Santi, don’t worry. Just checking. Frankie just kept bugging-” 

Before you could continue your sentence, Frankie’s hands immediately go to your sides, hitting all your ticklish spots. You scream out, a loud stream of giggles leaving you. 

“Coño, por favor, not while I’m on the phone!” You hear Santi say. “Sorry, Sorry,” you say, still out of breath from Frankie’s merciless attack. 

“Actually, Santi, can I ask another favor?” 

Frankie looks at you confused. You smirk at him. “Is tío Santi prepared for his first sleepover?” His confusion fades and immediately his eyes are consumed with pure lust, his soft brown eyes turning black. 

Santi is silent for a moment. “You two are downright feral, you know that, right?”

You stifle a laugh. “Ay Dios mío (oh my God),” Frankie mutters. 

“As long as I get another niece — or nephew, I really have no preference — in nine months time…” Santi trails off in thought. “Then I’d dedicate every damn weekend to her,” he says. 

You turn your head around and up to meet Frankie’s eyes, both of you in shock at Santi’s silent invitation, silence fills the air for a moment before you finally bring yourself to speak. 

“Oh? Alright, then,” you softly say. “Thank you, Santi, you’re the best. We’ll text you, okay? Bye,” you hang up, not giving Santi any chances to return the call-ending formalities. You and Frankie are still looking at each other, eyes wild at the proposition before you. 

“Every weekend, huh?” Frankie says, breaking the tension first. His head dips down to place a kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. 

You suck in a breath, arousal forming faster than a strike of lightning. “Mhm,” you barely get out. His hands are roaming your body now, your phone thrown haphazardly somewhere in the room, long forgotten. He places his hands on the insides of your thighs, spreading you open and keeping them atop his own legs, so he can hold you open. His one hand is spread largely over your lower belly while his other hand is already teasing your core. 

His finger circles directly on your clit, you yelp in response, your body twitching. “Every weekend, I’m gonna get to fuck my wife, huh?” Frankie says into your ear. “Gonna fill her full of me?” Your hips buck at the huskiness of his voice, of his possessiveness over you. Your response is incoherent, more of a moan than anything. Next thing you know, your room reverberates with the noise of a wet slap. 

He spanked your pussy. The sound that escapes your throat is beyond arousing, Frankie’s cock back to life, dripping on your lower back. “Answer me properly, baby,” he says again, softly. His fingers are circling your clit again, forcing more of your wetness out of you, his cum from earlier still seeking its place on your bedsheets.

“Mmm, fuck-” you breathe, “Yes, yes, every weekend, baby,” you’re nodding your head frantically as you try to keep your eyes trained on his actions down below. “Every weekend you’re gonna make me so full,” you whimper, “Gonna fuck a baby into me, daddy, I need you so bad.”

He slides two of his fingers into you at your words, his hips grind into your back at the feel of your warmth, of his spend keeping you nice and wet. His fingers pump in and out of you at a languid pace, his fingers arching in a come-here motion to beckon more of his cum onto his fingers. He pulls out of you momentarily, analyzing the mess he’s made. “Open, querida,” he whispers, likely in a trance at the sight. 

You open your mouth, tongue out and ready. He sticks his fingers into your mouth, and you lap up his salty spend greedily, as if it were the sweetest of syrups. You taste a distinct tanginess on his fingers, most likely the product of your own arousal. Your eyes fall shut at your taste, eyes feeling heavy and too blissed out to stay open. He pulls out of your mouth with a pop and grabs your chin, turning your face to his. He pulls you in for an open-mouthed kiss, wet and hot. His hand leaves your face and returns to your core. His fingers are back inside you, pushing in and out as his palm grinds perfectly into your clit. Your hips are moving in tandem, providing you with the perfect rhythm to soak him all over again. His lips never break from your own, tongues dancing in a way only you two get to know. 

Your hand seeks purchase at the back of his neck, tugging at the base of his curls, taking away his opportunity to break away from you. He moans into your mouth at the sharp sensation, your lower back a sticky mess from how much he’s leaking onto you. 

Finally, you break away, lips still connected by the thinnest of spit lines. “Baby, I- I’m gonna cum, shit-”

Frankie lets out a growl, desperate to have you fall apart on him. He maintains his same pace, adding a bit more pressure of his palm to your clit, his other hand pushing harder down into your belly, knowing how crazy the stimulation drives you. “Give it to me,” he mumbles in your ear, his heavy breathing fanning across your cheek. “Need it, baby. Need you,” he whines. 

“Fuck-!” you yell out, head pushing harder into his shoulder, eyes clamping shut and forming white, blinding fireworks beneath your eyelids. He fucks his fingers in you as you ride out your high, tears letting loose as your pussy squirts into his hand and all over both your bottom halves. 

The sight transforms him into a cumming mess, the only stimulation being the friction from your backside as he rutted into you. You don’t notice the warm wetness between your bodies until your body falls completely limp against him, breathing still heavy but slowly returning to normal. Frankie bejewels your face with sweet kisses — from your temples to the edge of your shoulder that he can reach — as you slowly come back to Earth. 

You look up at him now, a soft smile spread across your face. His heart stutters at the sight. You shift your back a little. “Did you…?”

“Yes, I did,” Frankie admits way too quickly, embarrassment flooding his face. 

You pull him into one more kiss before you start to get up. “Come on. Shower and then we eat,” you tell him. “You didn’t get to settle yourself down after work,” you add, slightly scolding him for his impatience yet also silently thanking him. 

“I can always eat in the shower,” Frankie adds suggestively, his eyes giving your body a once over as you stand beside the bed, waiting for him to get a move on. 

“Morales!” you gasp out. “Bad,” you say, shaking your head from side to side. 

“You know it’s gonna happen, mi amor (my love),” he says as he stands, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him, seeking your warmth. 

And it does happen. He makes you fall apart on his tongue twice, and you pay him back by reducing him down to jelly legs as you fuck his cum down your throat. By the time you two actually start your shower, the water is completely cold, not one drop of hot water available. 

Post-shower, you two cook a fast, simple meal, too eager to be on each other again, but too aware of how important it is to give your body sustenance in order to continue with your feral behavior. You only get a few hours of sleep that night. Falling asleep after each round only to wake back up a horny, dripping mess just to fuck again. You don’t remember the last time you two did something like this, but damn were you two needing it. You made a mental note to thank Santi for his much needed offer.

The next morning you wake up at seven, the first sensation you feel for the day is your sore pussy, red and puffy as she begs you to give her a break. You look at the knocked out man beside you, give him a kiss on the forehead and break away from his hold, bringing yourself to the bathroom. You take your phone with you. 

[07:13] Just woke up. Drop Isabela off whenever you’re ready. 

[07:15] God, no wonder she’s up already. She’s got your early ass schedule. 

You laugh to yourself, picturing Santi a half asleep man child as your daughter crawls all over him, forcing him to get up, too. What Santi didn’t know was that it was actually Isa’s schedule that you were on. 

[07:16] Pobrecito (poor thing). :( 

[07:16] She’ll probably be asking for Frankie soon. She always cuddles him in the morning. 

[07:17] Yep, she just did. I’ll feed her some breakfast now, then we’ll be on our way. That good, Mrs. Fish?

[07:18] If it’s good with little Fish, then it’s good with me. 

He sends you a thumbs up, and you set your phone down. You wash up and get ready for the day. 

After you brush your teeth and wash your face, you head to Frankie’s side of the closet and grab one of his soft, cotton tees to throw on. 

You head to the kitchen, your first course of action being to fire up the espresso machine. Espresso is the only form of coffee you drink, and soon enough, Frankie followed in your footsteps. Just as you suspected, as soon as the smell of the beans filled the air, Frankie appeared in the kitchen. His sleepy eyes and sexed out hair on display nearly cause your knees to buckle, your aching pussy betraying your want for a lazy morning. 

He makes his way to you and kisses you, soft and slow, probably needing a lazy morning just as much as you. “Good morning, mi esposa (my wife),” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. 

“Mmm, good morning, mi esposo (my husband),” you smile up at him. “Sleep well?”

“With the sleep that I did get, I’d say yeah,” he says. “You really tired me out, hermosa (beautiful),” he adds.

You pull him down for another kiss. You’ll never tire of the feeling. “Waffles?”

His eyes light up, a boyish grin on his face. “Yes, please.”

Around 8:30 as you and Frankie finish your waffles, the front door is unlocking. A little girl with crazy hair comes busting in, running straight for the both of you to pull you guys into a tight group hug. 

“Mommy! Daddy!” she screams.

“Mi amorcito,” Frankie responds, matching her energy. “Mi niña loca (my crazy girl),” you squeal. “I missed you so much!” you add. 

You and Frankie kiss each of her cheeks, sandwiching her little face. 

“Did you have fun with tío Santi?” you ask.

“So much fun, mommy! We had ice cream for break-”

Before she could finish, Santi chimes in. “O-o-okayyyyy, Isa!” he claps his hand once. “Why don’t you bring this to your room,” he hands her a tiny gift bag — probably the product of some shopping they did — “while I talk to mommy and daddy?”

“Okay, tío Santi!” She takes the bag and makes her way to her room. 

Your eyebrows are raised in mock scolding as you wait for Santi to explain himself. “Hey! In my defense, those puppy dog eyes are a killer. I couldn’t say no.”

The three of you break out into laughter, Frankie going in for a hug, clapping Santi on the back as he releases him. 

“Waffles?” you offer Santi. He graciously accepts, making his way to the other side of the kitchen counter, helping himself. 

“So-” you and Frankie say at the same time. Santi pauses his actions mid-bite. 

Frankie nudges you to speak first. You clear your throat to ease the awkwardness in the room. 

“So,” you start again. “Were you, uh… were you serious about watching Isa?” you ask?

“Every weekend?” Frankie adds. 

You giggle, nodding an affirmative at your husband. “Yes, every weekend?” 

Santi finishes the bite he paused on, and sets his waffle down. “You dirty dogs!” he says. 

“Pope, come on,” Frankie’s palms go over his cheeks that are currently turning red at Santi’s teasing. 

He lets out a laugh. “Sí, cabrón (yes, asshole),” Santi says, slapping Frankie’s shoulder.  “Of course I’m serious. I’d do anything for both of you, and especially that demon of a little girl.” 

Your heart warms at Santi’s sentiment. You’re beyond grateful Frankie has a best friend like him. 

“On one condition,” Santi adds, his eyebrow quirked up.

“Anything,” you say eagerly. Frankie nods his head in agreement with you.

“I also wasn’t kidding when I said I’d need another sobrino (niece/nephew).”

You and Frankie look at each other, your stares saying everything they needed to. Yeah, Santi didn’t need to worry about that. 

And you were right when the next Saturday morning, a month and four tío Santi sleepovers later, you and Frankie presented Santi with your pregnancy test displaying two pink lines.

End note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @suzdin @getitoutofmymind @pedrostories

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed!

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

everytime you write about gaz i get so lightheaded and blackout 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 like ommmmggggggg he’s sooo fine i need to bite him

i love you, sweet low blood pressure suffering anon.

46 / 1.6k / sequel to "call me bunny, cause i wanna bounce on your lap" with more mean reader <3

...

You must think you can get away with anything just because you’re sitting in Gaz’s passenger seat.

"We've been waiting for, like, twenty minutes,” you tell him, obviously annoyed.

Gaz doesn’t look up from his phone. "If I remember correctly, you were the one who made us late."

"I was getting ready.” You flip the mirror in the passenger-side visor back up, dabbing at your eye makeup with a polished fingernail. “And that means Alex should’ve been waiting by the time we pulled up.”

"You know how he is. Probably offered to help someone else and got roped into ten other things."

You huff, unlatch your seat belt, and prop your feet up on the dashboard. Might as well get comfortable if you’ll be here awhile.

Gaz’s eyes stray from his phone to linger on the strip of bare thigh between your skirt and thigh-high socks. "You look cute today, by the way."

Don’t you know it. You took your time getting ready for this “date.” You’re wearing the skirt he likes, the socks that make you feel confident—you put on fuck-me eyeliner. You dug out the heart choker you don’t even wear out to bars anymore because it makes you feel a little too casually easy.

You wanted to get laid today. But who knows how long it'll be before Alex comes out. And who knows where else he’ll want to go when he finally shows. There’s always something with him. He’s too nice.

⬇ nsfw; semipublic car sex; brat taming undertones

You huff and look down at your phone. Your nails click irritably against the screen.

Gaz sees the little pout trying to form on your lips. He knows what you want, and he certainly intends to give it to you, but there's no harm in making you squirm a little in the meantime. Plus he's enjoying the view. He stretches out in his seat to sit a little straighter and give himself a better angle to eye the hem of your skirt. You don't notice it until he slides his hand over the seat, resting his palm between your skirt and thigh highs.

"You know it drives me crazy when you sit like that." He squeezes. His fingers are warm and calloused. 

You shift, eying his forearm in veiled interest. "I do?"

He knows exactly what you're doing, but it's cute so he'll humor you. "Of course you do. That's why you do it."

"Mm." You sense an opportunity and grab his hand, sliding it higher up your thigh. He leans around the armrest between you two to follow the motion. "You want to get out of here?" you ask.

His eyes drag up the stretch of skin you show him from that angle. He slides his tongue over his bottom lip. "Yeah, I do."

"Then let's--"

"After we get Alex."

You groan and push his hand away. "Just ditch him! Just once. He wouldn't even get mad. He’s too polite."

"I already said we'd pick him up. You’ll just have to wait."

You huff and pull your legs back, tucking them under you. You sink further back into your seat and go back to your phone. You know you're not exactly dating Gaz. You have no claim on his time besides being his one-night-stand-turned-booty-call.

But still. You're giving up a Saturday lunch with your friends for this guy, and here you got all dolled up just to sit in his car. The rejection stings. So does the unwelcome pang of jealousy toward Alex.

This is why you don't text your one night stands back. Gaz just... made you feel good enough to ignore that rule. You’re a horny idiot.

"Come on, love. Don't be like that."

"I'm not being like anything," you mutter.

"You're pouting." He slides his hand to your leg again. "Did you think I’d do whatever you wanted just because you're sitting pretty in my passenger seat?"

You pull your leg away from his hand out of spite. "So what if I did."

"Mm, well, it almost worked." He pushes the armrest up, leaving the middle seat bare. Then he hooks his hand under your knee in one swift motion and tugs you closer to him. You slide onto your hip, thrown off balance, but it just makes it easier for him to pull you in. "Till you started running your mouth."

"You like it," you retort. "Or else you wouldn't carry on with me like this."

Gaz lets go of your knee to push your skirt up higher. Your eyes shoot down to watch him do it.

"Never said I didn't," he says. "You've got a mean mouth when you don't get your way."

You bite your lip, watching his hand slip up between your thighs. His thumb brushes where the edge of your panties would be, if you were wearing any.

He makes a low sound in the back of his throat and locks eyes with you when he realizes you’re not wearing anything else under your skirt. Fuck, you’re nothing but trouble. He watches you as his hand slides higher, making you lean back and spread your legs to make room.

Your breath quickens. His eyes are fixed on you now; he wants you. This is what you wanted, too, sort of. You shift your hips and bite your glossed lip in a way you hope is tempting.

"What's wrong?" he purrs. Damn, he likes it when you fall in line. He might even like it more than when you're mean. It’s hard to choose. He doesn't know whether he wants to fix you or toy with you forever. Even if he had time to actually date you instead of stringing you along before his next deployment. "No bite to your bark now?"

"Nnh..."

A smirk pulls across his smug face. "That's what I thought."

His fingers press against you. There’s no way to play off the way you arch your back and collapse back onto your elbows. You give yourself away too easily. He knows very well that he could’ve had you anytime. He had his teeth in you from the moment you hopped into his car and he flashed you a smile. Even if you weren’t looking at him with half-lidded eyes right now, he can feel how warm and wet you are under your skirt. He forgets why he waited so long to give you what you want.

“Look at that. Already getting all worked up just from some simple touching?”

"Just shut up. But don't stop."

“Ask nicely.” But his hand doesn’t move away, fingers slowly rubbing over your opening in the same gentle up-and-down motion as before.

"Please," you concede. You just don't want him to stop.

He’s enjoying this--watching how quickly you go from cocky to cock-hungry. He likes a challenge, but he likes winning you over even more. So he keeps his fingers stroking up and down between your legs, slow and gentle. “Say it again. Ask for it nice.”

"Please-- please keep going."

“That’s better.” He presses his fingers into you so slowly it’s torturous. You groan, and he shifts closer, pupils dilating. “See, bunny? Being nice isn’t that hard.”

You push yourself up and move your hips in tandem with his hand. You really are like a bunny, moving and bouncing at the slightest provocation. His eyes sharpen and he bites the inside of his cheek when you move to touch yourself, too. The sight of your freshly manicured nails rubbing your own clit pulls more praises from his eager mouth—positive reinforcement—but you're hardly listening, of course. You're too greedy for more of what he's giving you. He just grins and lets you have it, his fingers pushing rougher and faster between your legs.

You gaze up at him with a dazed smile on your face. You look so good like that--completely lost to everything except his touch and his voice.  He likes this more than he should. It’s the way you need him, only him, even in places you shouldn't. Even in public.

He plunges his fingers into you and relishes your delighted cry, rubbing you harder, faster. "Let me see you cum,” he growls.

Before, you might have snapped at him not to rush you. But that thought is distant.

Instead, pleasure wells up in you, shooting up your spine and all the way down your toes. You cry out with abandon, forgetting who might see or hear you in his car as you cum around his fingers. Your body rolls of its own accord, riding him and taking what it needs.

He works you through your orgasm with a sharp grin. He keeps it up until you’re finally done, and he slowly withdraws his hand once you’re coming down. Your legs twitch with pleasurable aftershocks.

"Feeling better? Gonna behave now?"

"Mm... yeah. I guess," you murmur. You're suddenly feeling much too lethargic to cause as many problems as usual.

He chuckles. From feisty to sated on just two fingers. He waits until you’re looking at him to bring those fingers to his mouth and wrap his tongue around them. With you as his audience, he makes a show of licking them clean.

Goosebumps break out over your skin. But you can't suppress a smirk. "God, you're disgusting."

His ego swells as you bite your lip, trying and failing not to let the sight arouse you again. His hand drifts back between your legs just like that, and he rubs over your still-sensitive mound with the back of his knuckles.

“Haven’t had enough?” he asks with faux sympathy, watching your half-lidded eyes trace down the sinews of his arm.

You push against his hand again, and he silently thanks Alex for doing him the favor of always taking so damn long.

...

more Gaz / masterlist

[merakiui]

Would you make a list ranking which unique magics and they potentials are hottest to you 👀

👀 OMG YES???? Thank you for this opportunity, anon!!! I have so many thoughts about the unique magics!!

Here is my grand list:

1. Off With Your Head - this one is very self-explanatory. The control, the collar, the way it makes you unable to use your magic, Riddle’s sheer mastery over it and how he uses it so often in the game……. orz immensely hot to me.

2. Snake Whisper - the hypnosis and helplessness of the target paired with Jamil’s very obvious lust for power and control. The way we makes you call him master as well……. so yummy!!!

3. Dark Fire - no one understands Rollo’s charm more than I do. What do you mean his UM is fueled by the fear and distress of others, thus making it stronger?!?!?! OTL that has so much potential. I love it so much.

4. Shock the Heart - I would’ve placed this one lower only because it has so much appeal and yet it can only be used once on a person, but perhaps you can argue that makes it even hotter. Regardless, I love everything about Jade’s UM. The magical chant, the way you must look into his eye, the beautiful imagery the manga blessed us with… 😵‍💫 being forced to tell the truth no matter what…….

5. Laugh With Me - another one that’s so great for control. Ruggie’s UM would be so great for (forced) mutual masturbation. But also,,, it has the potential to be used in such horrifying ways. >:)

6. Split Card - clones. Gangbang. Need I say anymore?

7. Doodle Suit - I like the mind games that can come from this. Not knowing what’s your reality and what’s fantasy whenever Trey uses his UM is so hot. T^T I NEED HIM.

8. Fae of Maleficence - I think it’s more so the overwhelming power and horrifying range of this UM that makes it so attractive. Malleus is terrifyingly strong and this UM always reminds me of that, amongst other moments in the plot. In Idia’s words, truly a final boss.

9. Life is Fun - Fellow’s UM………. WOW. Maybe it deserves to be higher on the list, but because I’ve yet to officially experience Fellow in the game I will place it within this humble top ten. :D even so, it has too much potential and I love it.

10. It’s a Deal - hear me out……. this is such an overpowered UM and it’s all Azul’s to use (and abuse) as he pleases. Having such a dangerous UM where, if not for the contract, he would be more susceptible to overblot. AAAAAAA HE’S SO FINE. The UM chant is amazing, tako’s greed, the amount of powers he can build up because there seems to be no limit to the amount of contracts he makes!!! So hot to me. <3

11. Fairest One of All - Vil’s UM…… the ability to place a curse on anything that can’t be lifted until the conditions are met. AAAAAA SO MUCH POTENTIAL. OTL

12. I See You - this one is frightening but very on brand for Rook Hunt. ^^;;;; it makes stalking darling so much easier, but something tells me Rook wouldn’t use his UM because it defeats the thrill of hunting darling himself.

13. Meet in a Dream - this one is more whimsical than it is hot, but it still has plenty of potential because dreams can be anything and everything. There’s never any logic to them. Also,,, I love the idea of darling constantly seeing a silver-haired prince in their dreams. The dream sex surely goes crazy. :)

14. King’s Roar - it’s so powerful omg,,, more so that than it is hot. The only circumstance I can think of in which it’s hot is if Leona’s using it to turn all of your clothes to sand, but why would he need magic for that when he can easily take them off himself. ;D

15. Sleep Kiss - Epel’s UM is so dainty and Victorian to me. The glass coffin…… that’s so pretty. orz the way it also puts you to sleep,,, somno with Epel?!?!?!

16. Bind the Heart - I’m sorry the ranking is so low, Floyb. >_< it’s another UM that’s very good in a fight. I like it a lot, especially the way he says it hehe.

17. Far Cry Cradle - this one is very interesting!! I absolutely see the vision with it. Just not a lot of horny vision, unless it’s a scenario where he casts it on your sex toy or something just to play that memory back. >:3c

18. Unleash Beast - this one is so cute to me. Jack turning into a wolf is adorable. OTL thinking about how mesmerized the kids must be if and when he uses his UM back home. How exciting it is to climb up on his back and be carried around everywhere. :D I just think it’s very sweet.

19. Bet the Limit - this is great for fighting, but for things other than that,,,, but I do love how strong it is. Deuce’s UM is so cool. >w<

20. Oasis Maker - I AM SO SORRY, KALIM….. T^T I love his UM. I think it’s so fun!! Alas, it isn’t very hot in that sense to me. However, there are so many other aspects to Kalim that make him so wonderful hehe.

21. Gate to Underworld - it was incredibly attractive in book six. That sort of power,,,, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Idia and Ortho were successful in resetting the world. Outside of book six, the UM loses a few aura points. STYX Idia will forever be famous to me.

22. Living Bolt - apologies in advance to Sebek. His UM is so cool!!!! Just,,, not the hottest of UMs. WAAAA I’M SORRY, SEBEK!!!! OTL

[hwnglx]

this combo of sag and scorpio energy in him is crazy 😵‍💫

sunghoon's ideal type

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

shuffled song: stand still by sabrina claudio

physical traits

watery and striking eyes. (when their eyes just stand out, he thinks lighter colored or blue eyes are beautiful) classic and traditional beauty. conventionally attractive. powerful presence, turns everyone's heads. feminine and elegant. gorgeous and blinding smile. longer and flowy hair. taller height. water or fire risings! i keep seeing margot robbie or anne hathaway.

personality traits

the immediate vibe i got for sunghoon, is that he wants someone invested. and when i say invested, i mean fully. i've said this a lot at this point, but sunghoon has such a dynamic chart, which shows this clear difference in character according to who he's with. he can either be the most easygoing and laidback, or the most intense and passionate person in the room. just put his lover (or someone he deeply cherishes) next to him, and you'll literally see the gaze in his eyes change.

sunghoon wants someone who can handle his intense nature in love. someone who resembles it to a degree, because otherwise they might get overwhelmed or not understand it. he really needs his and his partners love language, and their values in relationships to correlate. he wants to feel like he shares the same passion as his lover, and not get the impression that he's the only one holding on so tightly, when his partner is just kinda meh about it all. he wants a deep and intimate connection, that goes beyond what anyone else could understand. he wants a person he can have a relationship with, that is separate from all the rest, and special and extraordinary in his life. he draws a clear line between the people he holds extra close to his heart, and his standard “friends”. there's this version of sunghoon only his lovers could tell you about.

he likes it when someone won't get intimidated by his intensity. who can hold their ground firmly, not falter under his gaze. he also likes someone who's just very affectionate and romantic. a person who won't be afraid or too shy to be direct in their display of love for him. he wants someone who knows how to love someone in a proper way, who's good at making him feel loved. i also keep hearing “mother of my children” this man is all about longterm commitment. he wants a family-oriented woman who'd be a good mother. responsible and reliable, but also soft and nurturing.

sunghoon loves the idea of a lengthy relationship. he likes sharing history and memories with his lover. i can see him liking the thought of growing old and maturing with his partner, going through various stages together. he wants his lover to be like an “인생 친구” which means lifelong friend. again, it'd give them this special ability to know each other in and out, have things or inside jokes only the two of them understand.

sunghoon also needs his lover to understand that, although he'll be incredibly zoned in on their relationship, he still has goals and achievements of his own, which he won't neglect for their connection. his job requires a lot of work and time, and the possibility of him not always being there 24/7 shouldn't be a problem for his partner. especially because, he truly wants them to trust him. he is not the type to cheat or look elsewhere if he's in a committed relationship. he wants his lover to understand that, and tolerate his personal ambitions. i can also see him liking the thought of his partner having their own ambitions. he enjoys the thought of both of them being goal-driven and hardworking, but once they come together, they can't see anything but each other. in comparison to some other people, sunghoon definitely likes his lovers to resemble him, rather than be entirely different. i can just see him and a gemini venus being extremely difficult. (funny because sunoo is one and yeah.. their relationship is rather complicated)

him as a boyfriend

+ he's a boyfriend who doesn't rush into anything. very slow burning energy. in the beginning stages, sunghoon will be very curious about you as a person. he prefers getting to know his lovers thoroughly first, really getting a grip on their character, understanding their desires and values before taking the next step. he wants to make sure you're on the same wavelength with him, and get this feeling you're the right one, before investing so much of himself into the relationship. he thinks deep and intimate connections between two people who effortlessly understand each other, require a lot of patience. you just have to know each other's every aspect, he'll definitely want to be the only one to know some secrets, you do not tell anyone else about.

he's an amazing listener. he'll enjoy sitting there listening to you talk about yourself for hours and not get tired of it. literally stare in to your soul while you keep rambling. only interrupt you to ask questions and deepen the conversation.

he's definitely a sucker for intimacy, especially in places where he, and no one would expect it. like whispering things in his ear in public could probably make this man melt. i also keep seeing him hold hands with his partner in public and literally squeeze the hell out of their hand, in this possessive manner. like he's telling you “you're mine and with me.” in a wordless manner. there'll be a lot of silent communication between you, you'll just get each other right away.

there's also a very considerate and calm energy to him, where he'll display this source of peace for you. this is something i've observed about scorpio placements, especially venus', they're very.. understanding towards overemotional people. they can handle people's emotional outbursts, and mostly don't get consumed by it. on the contrary, a lot of the times, they quietly allow you to get your emotions and frustrations out, validate your feelings and not make you feel overdramatic, and try to talk things out calmly with you. let's say sunghoon gets into a fight with his partner; if you start getting angry and throwing things and losing your mind, he's the type to just sigh and sit there and control his own emotions silently while listening to you. he'll probably give you a little time to calm down, and once he feels you're ready to be talked to again, he'll try and talk the matter out in a more rational manner. very emotionally mature and compassionate energy in him. (interesting since i remember in my collective enha ideal type reading, he seemed to struggle with this. he seems to have grown a lot)

- sunghoon can be very hot or cold. it's like once he's with you, everything's great and a fairytale and you feel amazing, but once he's away, it's easy to feel like he forgot about you. he's very busy, so it can be a common occurrence for him to forget replying to you, not talk to you for days, make you feel left alone, because his love can be quite addicting. it's easy to feel dependent on scorpio venus', because they literally make you feel like life without them would be awful. even if you confronted him about this, he could get discontent with you giving him such a hard time about something he can't help. sunghoon draws a clear line between his personal and professional life, which he wants his partners to respect.

i do not see him cheating or doing anything wild, he's extremely loyal. he will not look at any other woman if he's a taken man. however, sunghoon still wants freedom, he doesn't enjoy feeling like you suffocate him while he's working (like spamming him with calls and texts because he isn't answering while busy, that'd frustrate him) yet at the same time he got you to the point of naturally clinging to him. “you made me be like this!” is what i can imagine his partner accusing him of. it can just get draining to deal with someone, who has such contrasting values when it comes to love, and his own ego and career.

[ssparksflyy]

dating jason grace hcs! (ᴗ͈ ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

pairing jason grace x child of hermes!reader summary based off this request !! an lin manuel as hermes no matter how much i pretend to hate youre iconic and i actually love you

"okokokok" and "lalalala" who ???

people were so surprised when you started dating since youre literal opposites ?!?!

youre so chill and laid back and fun

jason straightens up so quick and salutes if somebody yells attention

but since he's met you, he's definitely relaxed a little more

he's learnt to accept the fact that he can actually relax at times and just enjoy himself ?!?!?!? (shocking, right)

and you were the one who taught him that !!

it honestly started when your first met

cause he was training by himself after lessons had finsihed

you were walking around with your siblings, just passing by and decided to ask him if he wanted to go to the fireworks show that was being held that night ♡

cause like youd seen him around camp before, always helping someone out with someone, and youd be lying if you said you didnt think he was cute 😋 (i sound like a nine year old omg bye)

so what better time to ask than now !

i could lie and say he was super chill about it but lets be honest he was already smitten before you could even finish the question

dropped his sword, face all red and everythinggg 😵‍💫

(you tease him about this now, but he just fights it with a corny "guess you stole my heart" that makes you cringe and roll your eyes yet still smile)

he tried to act all cool and say he'd think about it when in reality he was already getting ready to run to the aphrodite cabin and ask piper for help

i love tlh trio so much i just know jason would be panicking about the whole thing and piper's trying to reassure him + give genuine advice while leo is just messing around 😭

he did manage to get some tips and you ended spending the whole nights talking and laughing instead of actually watching the fireworks ♡♡

he walked you back to your cabin and by then you both established big ol' crushes on each other (aw ya cuties)

the amount of teasing you got from your cabin that night was actually crazy though

you were last to get in that night and entered to a whole chorus of 'oooooo's

a few thrown pillows and 'connor i swear to the gods i will push you off the lava wall-'s later and you were finally able to go to sleep though ♡

the teasing and jokes never stop

even when you (finally) started dating

its your cabin's love language honestly

your younger siblings are OBSESSED with jason

hes actually so good with kids bye

he just 'treats them the way he wished he was treated as a kid :(

his words not mine i dont talk like im giving an anti-bullying assembly

but like he loves playing with them

instant besties !

he even helped them prank you one time :o

he felt so devious doing it good lord

real i was a bad girl i did some bad things yaknow

literally all he did was distract you as your siblings taped a balloon full of water and got a dart pin ready to pop it when you walked into the door

but he was all giggly when the prank succeeded

only for like 5 seconds cause then he was helping you dry off and apologizing

you didnt minddddd, it was fun seeing him act like a "rebel"

okay call me crazy but like trackstar power couple

hermes kids are fast, known fact, evidence? tlt musical said so

and i feel like jupiter/zeus kids would be too!! like moving at the speed of lightning hyperbole... please tell me you see the vision

but like being able to use that as an excuse to get some time away from people... the scandal.

jason telling the group he's with (not necessarily close friends, he knows he can just tell them that he's going out with you) that he's going out for a run

youll be flushed when you return-

when really he's ditching them to go hang out with you

cause this man can NOT say no. he's a people pleaser man it's hardwired into our brains

and they'll think it's normal cause like jasons weird

why question the kid who likes musicals and history

do you see where this is going.

jason taking you to watch opening night of hamilton cause he's been bouncing off the walls for it and really wanted to show you so he'd have someone to talk to about it after :)

it started off fun!!

you were both really enjoying the beginning! well, the first minute and twenty seconds of it at least

cause after that you lost your shit :D

your dad was literally on stage, a few hundred feet away from you, acting as a founding father

the rest of the show you were internally freaking out, questioning everything

jason had no clue, not until you told him during intermission

had the AUDACITY to say "...and thats how you were born" after the traumatizing experience of say no to this

after the show you chased you dad down on the street as he was trying to get 'home'

jason was lowkey giggling the whole time like he was not taking this serious at alllll

but hey he got to meet your dad !!

hermes likes jason, thinks he's a very distinguished gentleman

jason likes hermes, thinks he's pretty good at rapping

at least one of you gained something from that experience

not proofread !

[pupyuj]

now... walk w me here.... per say if jst IF Liz was an obsessive gf...? give me ur thoughts if it gets smutty, g!p preferably

AHA thank you for putting this in my head bff 😵‍💫😵‍💫

people love to call jiwon a crazy girlfriend but she gets rlly confused about it!! bcs wdym people aren’t just automatically obsessed with their gf?? shouldn’t that be a given?? plus you were just so perfect in her eyes—everything was completely innocent to her but to others… well no! 😭 people should be happy that she’s not a toxic kind of obsessed at least! sure she can be really gross with her physical affection… like groping your ass in public, kissing your neck while you’re literally both around with your friends talking, hand on your thigh when sitting (so fucking close to your pussy too!), and even very discreetly grinds against your ass when she’s backhugging you??? jiwonie very much enjoys how she can get away with that last part by just looking innocent and sweet to others 🤭

and the obsession only gets stronger when you’re apart! jiwon hates that you live in separate houses! she just wants to cling to you all the time! she feels very anxious when she can’t just extend an arm and touch you 😔 but at least you’re always there to text or call her immediately when she gets home! 💕 little did you know that your sweet girlfriend secretly strokes her cock to the sound of your voice while you’re in a call with her.. she’s very good at suppressing her sounds! 🫢 casually fucking her own hand, imagining it was yours, while you tell her about the kind of work day that you had… she absolutely loves how she can hear the passion you have for your job and her climax literally builds up by how you get excited and laugh at some funny anecdotes… and ofc she ends up cumming all over her hand! making such a mess that she blames you for bcs you were just so cute! 😤😤

jiwon definitely stacks up on dick pics and masturbating videos just in case she’s in the mood to send you some! 😋 and in every single one of those videos she’s whining and moaning your beautiful name while she spills hot sticky cum on her hand and on her sheets! it’s always everywhere and there would be so much in her hand all the time, if only you were there to clean it up for her 😣 she doesn’t have toys around bcs there’s literally nothing better to stick her cock into other than your pussy so she just ends up grinding on and dry humping her pillows when she’s sooo horny she can’t help it 😳 then she would impulsively text you.. telling you that she needs your help.. that she doesn’t wanna waste any more of her cum to her stupid sheets and pillow covers and that it all belongs inside you!! 😵‍💫

and ofc you immediately come over to her house bcs you would be insane to say no to your girlfriend‼️ entering her room, seeing jiwon sitting on her bed not even covering up the wet spot in her pants as well as her massive tent… and being her good, perfect girlfriend you don’t waste any time and got to work… taking your clothes and her undergarments off before you climbed on her lap and slid her thick cock inside you… insertion smooth as always bcs you were such a fucking whore for her dick! best believe you wouldn’t even have to put much effort into riding her bcs jiwon is the one that’s controlling everything! gripping your hips with an iron grip and pulling you up then pushing you down in an insane pace… both of your moans bouncing off the walls and probably being heard by the surrounding units… just how jiwon likes it 😋😋

almost literally has heart eyes as you creamed around her cock bcs you just looked so pretty throwing your head back and screaming her name 🥺 it’s too bad you didn’t have much of a stamina… but thankfully jiwon has that covered 🤭 she’s immediately laying you down and fucking you herself! intently watches as her cock disappears inside you.. so in awe of how you can take her so well while being so tight… feels your walls clench and her eyes roll back bcs it feels so good… between your moans, the way you dug your nails in her arms, locked your legs around her hips while she fucked you.. well, it didn’t take jiwon very long to finally dump all of her cum inside you 🫣

like i said, hella stamina plus she’s so fucking obsessed… you’re definitely waking up sore 🥰🥰