𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍. they were uncomfortable, and his excess appendages couldn’t express themselves while compressed under so many insufferable layers. on the battlefield, sukuna preferred to be barefoot and without upper garments. so liberating. peeling everything away to the last thread, feeling the earth beneath grounded soles and warm sunlight kissing his skin. four eyes are honing in from a short distance, blood glistening across pearly teeth when he smiled prominently. one hand 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 toward the other, fingers swiftly crooking to spur him on. they weren’t done, he enjoyed this too much. suppose the sentiment was shared, because neither were backing down.
❛ come on, gojo. you can do better than that. or at least, i initially assumed that was the case. ❞ he negates his own healing factor, suppresses that natural urge to mend wounds. pain induced adrenaline, triggered that fight response he so eagerly craved like an addict seeking his fix. ❛ did i overestimate you ? ❞ mirthful laughter soon followed, pupils blown for a split second as they search his 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘 features. numerous limbs prepared, raising into tightly spun fists. no techniques … nothing save for their pure, unadulterated strength. although satoru should be more careful, he might break a nail. @limitlesscursed
