#Cursed Spirit

[justjams7787]

Cursed spirit gojo

[cyzi4]

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 (𝐩𝐭 𝟏?)

Silly little jjk tweets :D

Im gonna do more of these and I think ill do some with plot :p

[lilacxquartz]

TO SAVE A BROKEN SOUL • suguru geto x cursed spirit fem!reader

ao3 link • masterlist • next chapter >>

summary: roaming around the forest as a neutral cursed spirit spirit, you stumble upon a temple, not quite knowing what sort of nightmare awaited you from the inside.

tags/warnings: dead dove, (upcoming) non-con, violence, yandere, reader insert, weekly updates, dark, multi chapter, horror

Chapter 1: Found

Wandering around the forest in the dead of night was essentially second nature to you. It was survival, plain and simple.

It was how you got by.

Moving from one point to another without a single destination in mind, never knowing where you’d end up next—that’s just what being a cursed spirit was; to be stuck in a perpetual state of endless, aimless drift.

Your journey was lacking direction and your benign existence had swallowed away any purpose you could have had. Regular humans would call this being a ghost, but it felt much worse than that.

To have no purpose, nor an escape.

And despite calling yourself a neutral entity, you stayed far away from human settlements, never daring to get too close. You knew better than to risk it. Accidents were inevitable if you lingered a little too close to people (or a little too long), so you simply didn’t gamble the chance to begin with.

It was easier that way.

It was safer.

The fine line of what separated you from being a neutral spirit and a malevolent one was very thin though, but could have been defined by how you fed. Rather than tempting fate with the potential of human flesh, you chose restraint, resigning you to either not feed at all or to keep your feasts confined to what you found within the forest.

(But the desire was always present; gnawing away at your gradually lapsing self control, clawing at your core—so desperate to let slip… waiting for that perfect moment.)

Sustainability wasn’t that much of a necessity for you otherwise. After all, you weren’t truly alive; at least not in the same way that humans (and living things overall) were.

But sometimes you couldn’t help but crave it. The scent and taste of human flesh—so sickeningly sweet and almost intoxicating—seasoned with the essence of their negativity. A delicacy so potent yet so forbidden.

In that aspect, you were always starving, but you also didn’t mind. The hunger kept your senses sharp which in turn, kept you focused. It was a bitter reminder of who (or what) you could become should you ever let it consume you.

So instead, you roamed. You wandered. You cruised through the trees not bothering a single soul, as a neutral, almost dormant being.

However, this neck of the woods that you found yourself within different somehow. Despite passing through it countless times before, you somehow never stumbled across this particular temple.

The realisation that you were treading on human property hit you all too late, noticing the structure only when you were halfway up a path of rooted stairs. Extinguished lanterns hung above, charred ashes escaping from the blackened wicks, swinging off of overgrown wooden beams that framed along the path.

At first, you thought that it was abandoned.

But just as you were about to take a step inside, intending to take refuge for the night…

…A sound froze you in place.

Footsteps.

Quickly snapping out of your daze, your innate response was to retreat in fear of being spotted. Not everyone could see cursed spirits, but you couldn’t afford to take that chance, knowing that in doing so, you risked compromising your very existence.

But you were all too slow.

A young girl had already caught a glimpse of you; her eyes locking onto your position. A wave of panic swept over you and without thinking—you bolted—desperate to fade back into the inviting darkness of the woods. Back into the shadows where you belonged. Away from the prying eyes of people, or worse, by the unforgiving gaze of sorcerers.

To be seen, to be even be acknowledged for a split second, was to invite danger and that was a price that you simply could not afford to pay.

In your rushed escape, your arm caught on a loose branch that tore into your marbled flesh. The wood cut deep, chipping away at your body like brittle stone. You seethed in pain, emitting a high-pitched whine as inky black blood spilled from your wound, trailing behind you and painting a dark path that led to your position.

You attempted to tune into the forest, to isolate whether or not someone was behind you; hearing the twigs that snapped underfoot like spreading wildfire closing in behind you in a stalking cresendo—they were right behind you—ready to close in at any second.

Your own nerves betrayed you, catching you off guard as your clarity soon became clouded with a surge of panic. Every instinct screamed at you to run in all directions at once, daring you to abandon all sense of logic and to give into your instincts, maybe even…!

But it was all too late.

They caught up to you.

(And whoever it was, they weren’t the least bit kind.)

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as strong hands clamped around your shoulders, wrapping fingers that dug into your flesh to keep you solidified in place. Such horrid pressure that radiated off of the assiliant that felt almost suffocating in how they grounded you. Not only did they manage to capture you, but they also have managed to have rootyou to the spot, sealing off your final window of escape.

Unable to say a word, you instead choked as your breath tore harsh against the air, feeling yourself be thrown backwards. More blood continued to pour as you tanked the landing impact, watching with unease as a tall figure caged you in. You remained statued as they pushed your body right up against the bark of the tree, demonstrating such strength that it began to crack and splinter.

Their touch felt unforgiving, despite the unmistakable scent of being human.

(So who was the real monster here?)

Your mind continued to scream danger, urging you to move, to do anything that didn’t result in remaining still. Every remaining instinct urged for you to fight back before your demise was met, before your existence was erased entirely, before—

“Trying to slip away so soon?” a chilling male voice asked, catching you in the midst of your spiralling thoughts. Their tone was cold, yet somehow deceptively gentle, only seeming to unsettle you further.

You couldn’t trust them.

Not with an introduction like this.

You faltered, your sights submitting to the looming figure before you. Your instincts continued to run wild as your mind warred with itself, begging—pleading—for you to get away, to please, please escape. In a last ditch effort, you tried to push past the man, clawing at his skin in a bid to push him away from you.

But in doing so, you only managed to piss him off further.

Before you even knew it—before you could even react—you were dislocated, struck down and dislocated.

Did he get a hit on you…?

Without a moment’s pause, you involuntarily slumped against the tree, your legs giving way. Your vision blurred as you desperately attempted to focus on the man before you, the moonlight just barely illuminating his face.

From what little you could make out, he could have been a shaman or perhaps even a monk. His attire was traditional, something you recognised as a religious garment.

A peculiar thought crossed your mind: since when were buddhist monks so violent?

He flicked his eyes to the wound you inflicted on him before meeting with your gaze again. “That hurt.”

Once again, you tried to back away, your words barely coming out to defend your cause.

“I-I haven’t even, I haven’t touched the temple,” you blurted out, your delivery barely coherent. “Please, just… let me go.”

You stared him down with an intense glare, hoping to challenge him into finding reason but instead all he did was mirror your gaze; leaving you pooling with confusion (and maybe even dread).

Maybe he wasn’t a regular human, but rather a sorcerer instead.

You really hoped not though, because then you would be in some serious trouble.

His eyes narrowed, his tone remained serious and cold as he spoke up once again, “So you’re admitting that was you lurking around the temple?”

Nodding, you scanned around the vicinity seeking an opportunity to exit, but there was none.

“I won’t come back if you let me go,” you promised.

However, the man didn’t waver. Instead, he seemed to be almost entertained(?) at your attempt to negotiate, as if your behaviour was oddly human to some extent given your status. “Bit of an odd one, aren’t you?”

He crouched down, extending a couple of pinched fingers to tweeze your chin and point your jaw towards the moonlight. You writhed under his grip, feeling unsettled by his invasive and unyielding stare.

“Quite pretty too,” he murmured with backhanded praise, “…for a cursed spirit.”

“Let go of me, I’ll leave and—“

“—hm?” he caught you mid plea. “Who said anything about you leaving?”

“Aren’t you going to kill me?” you asked, your voice carrying a hint of reluctance the longer you remained in his company. You weren’t naïve; you understood fully well what sorcerers were capable of.

What their jobs were.

“Kill you?” he mused, his expression remaining unreadable. “I could. I might. But for now, I’m simply curious about you,” he paused, taking a moment to admire your appearance once again, “so, why don’t you come with me?”

You shook your head violently, attempting to back away as far as you possibly could but he didn’t let you get very far, if anywhere at all.

Instead, he pulled you to your feet as he stood up, his voice adopting a threatening edge, “Let me rephrase that for you,” he leaned in just a bit closer, “come with me or I will exorcise you. Your choice.”

Feeling torn, you finally resigned your fate to the hands of the strange monk. Your stomach gnawed with furious hunger, begging for you to sink your teeth deep into his flesh as both a punishment as well as a chance to buy time to escape. Yet, there was something about him that at the same time that overrode such an urge, something that made you drop your guard around him at long last—and—against your better judgement, to even trust him.

So in the end, you gave in after all, choosing to follow him back to the temple.

Unaware of all the dark plans that he had in store for you.

~~~

this is part 2 of lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: Five different perspectives on Nanami Kento.

Tags: Angst, humour, mystery, character study.

Warnings: canon-typical violence.

"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.

Whatever I see I swallow immediately

Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.

I am not cruel, only truthful‚

The eye of a little god, four-cornered."

~ The Mirror, Sylvia Plath

Yoshinari remembers that day well. Even now, decades later, his team leader's near-panicked expression stands out with harsh clarity in his mind. Yoshinari had just mentioned that he hadn't finished the analysis due that afternoon because he'd been struck down with a bad bout of flu. Whirling on his heel, the team lead had really let fly with his irritation.

"But we had an agreement! You were to complete the analysis the day before yesterday! There'll be no excuse at all for us walking into that meeting unprepared!"

"But sir ... I had a lot to catch up on that evening. And I - "

"I'm done with this conversation! Come up with something, or explain to the chief why you couldn't finish your basic tasks on time."

Left standing in the empty hallway, Yoshinari had let frustration, anger, self-pity and helplessness wash over him, bitter as a brackish tide. Nobody ever listened to him. Nobody ever understood how the demands of this job couldn't be humanly met unless he practically lived at the office. Nobody cared what his state of health was. Nobody -

"Are you all right?"

Hastily wiping off the corner of his eye, he turned to see none other than Nanami Kento standing in the doorway leading from the hallway to the main office floor. Nanami, whose reports were always turned in on time. Nanami, whose suits were never rumpled, whose clients never complain, whose presentations were always meticulous, who never spilled a drop or wasted a crumb when he ate -

Tamping down the rising envy and resentment for the tall man standing before him, Yoshinari sighed and embraced the inevitable. It isn't Nanami's fault. Nanami is simply doing the job, like the rest of them. He just happened to be a lot more competent at it than most. 

"I'm a bit ... under the weather, that's all. There's a meeting this afternoon. I won't be prepared because I haven't had time to get the quarterly analysis done."

Nanami watched him in silence. Yoshinari continued, chest feeling slightly less heavy as he vented to his quiet companion.

"I just wish ... that we were given more value, you know? We're not robots. We're people. And sometimes, we ... I can't get all my tasks done. I just wanted ... some understanding. That's all."

Yoshinari realized just how petulant he sounded the more he spoke. His voice trailed off, and he avoided the other man's gaze. What must Nanami think of someone like him? Did he pity him? Was he annoyed by him and his complaining? Was he indifferent, like everyone else? It was hard to tell.

Nanami never lost his composure, never expressed strong emotion, never seemed anything other than cool and detached. He must think that someone like Yoshinari was worthy of pity and contempt. Nothing more.

Without waiting for Nanami's reply, Yoshinari turned and made his way to the elevators, trying to focus on the client briefing lined up (and not the humiliation and reprimands he'd have to endure later.)

The humiliation never came, though. Walking into the meeting that afternoon, Yoshinari was met with the huffy, slightly startled demeanor of the team leader when he was complimented on his 'sterling work', handed a steaming cup of coffee and patted on the back. He sat through the rest of the meeting in a daze, mind still struggling to grapple with what had occurred.

When he got a chance, he snuck a look at the analysis that supposedly came from him. There, in the phrasing, the layout, the orderly sequences of figures and the in-depth breakdown of each element, he recognises the hand of Nanami Kento.

When the meeting was over, he tried to find Nanami, to thank him for that unexpected favour. A part of him was beginning to take the assistance with a pinch of salt; what did Nanami expect in return for this?

When he eventually spied Nanami, he paused, the report crumpling slightly in his hand. Coat draped over his chair, tie cast over one shoulder, sleeves rolled up and chair reclining, Nanami's hollowed eyes and sharply-defined cheekbones were covered with a white handkerchief, the marks of exhaustion clear in his bearing.

Many years later, watching his grandchildren chase each other around the darkened trunk of a plum tree, a soft, secret smile finds its home on Yoshinari's face as he remembers that day. He glances up at the delicate blossoms, pushing their heads insistently into the fresh bite of a new spring day and wonders if Nanami ever had grandchildren of his own.

Warmth. Kinship. Command.

When Master calls me out, I recognise the tug and relentless pull into another place. This place. This world of scent and colour and sound, where I am given form.

My Master's hands smell of paper, freshly cut apples and grass. They are firm and familiar as their fingers run through my fur. Sometimes, Master brings us out of the other place without urgency, simply to keep us at his side.

Megumi.

That is my Master's given name. He is dark in spirit, light of foot, and his mouth seldom curves, like the other humans. But when we are all together, pack, bodies curled up and sharing warmth, Master's eyes are like a distant lamp, flickering softly.

The white-veined one names my Master as Megumi. He is the one with power like a great summer storm, sweeping with acrid sharpness across the senses and scorching the unseen world in his wake. His hair is white too, his spirit leaping from one focus to the next, lightning and laughter.

The white-veined one is trustworthy. He is pack, but even though Master trusts him completely, he makes others nervous.

And then, there is the Blademaster. This one is almost familiar. He is like Master in many ways. He smells of good food, old leather and the sharp tang of polished metal. His power is an underground river, swift and subtle, rising to a well-controlled roar when he calls upon it.

The Blademaster avoids pack. He likes to sit alone on the benches at sunset, sometimes, with his food in an oval box at his side. He stares a lot into the sky. Only he knows what he sees there.

The sky doesn't hold much interest for me, but the smells from the Blademaster's box always call for attention. He has meat in there. And cheese. Sometimes, if I press my nose into his hand, he shares his food. It is good food. It tastes better when he offers it out of his own palm.

The Blademaster's hand is bigger, rougher around the fingers than Master's. He is an experienced warrior, and he has been in many fights. The scent of it is on him, in ways that cannot be disguised. He carries the smell of old wounds, of battles that etched away at the parts of him than leave no visible scars. 

Sometimes, his pain is great. Those times, he needs pack, even if he doesn't know it. I find him, at his bench. Even though he has no food, I sit with him. His fingers in my fur are different, but warm, like Master's.

We watch the sky together.

It's the bustle of the lunch rush that brings him suddenly into her mind; tall, broad-shouldered, imposing in his dark, pinstripe suit. She's seen many, many salarymen enter her establishment over the years, but none quite like him.

He'd seemed hard, humourless, exacting, a man of substance and character, whittled away bit by bit by the hundred inconveniences and troubles of everyday life. Her attempts to cheer him up always fell flat. Her jokes landed like stale bread on a food critic's plate.

"Hey, Nanami! Good to see you! Decided to loaf around on your lunch break again?"

"How am I loafing?"

"Ah, that was just a pun. You know. Because you come here to buy sandwiches."

"Do you charge extra for the puns? Because I'm not paying for that."

"Wow. So cold ... "

And on another occasion:

"Hey Nanami! Knock knock."

" ... "

"You're supposed to say 'who's there?'"

"Who's there."

"As a question, not a statement!"

"Does it matter?"

"Fine. It's doughnut."

"Doughnut who?"

"Dough nut enter the shop without checking out the specials!"

"Please just give me the sandwich."

Ah, those were good times. Maybe he did appreciate her silly attempts at humour on some level. She'd never know.

Sometimes, she wonders if she shouldn't have asked him for help. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut about that pesky stiffness and pain in her shoulder joint. There was no way she could have known what would happen next.

She recalls, with perfect clarity, the sudden change in his demeanour. The subtle straightening of his posture, the focus of that intense honey-brown stare, the way he'd looked at and past her, as if glancing through some secret window into an unknown she could never fathom. And then, he'd raised his arm, swung it in that swift, decisive motion, and her pain disappeared in a matter of seconds.

She still wonders how exactly he'd accomplished that. Was he a spiritual healer of some kind? She couldn't think of an occupation less suited to someone like him. All the same, she was thankful. She'd even packed a free almond croissant and coffee with his sandwich the next day, kept aside for the lunch rush.

Except, he'd never shown up. Not that day, or the next, or the day after that. Nanami simply disappeared from the normal routine of his life altogether.

Of course, she made some enqueries. She was somewhat concerned, considering how sudden his absence had been. What if he'd overworked himself enough to end up in hospital? It wasn't unheard of.

His work colleagues, some of whom also frequented the bakery, told her that he'd suddenly up and left. Handed in his resignation and promptly disappeared.

She'd never heard from him, ever again. It wasn't that she was upset or offended. Customers changed their whims daily. But with him ... something about it concerned her. What would prompt a creature of habit, like Nanami, to suddenly change his routine? There was probably a perfectly sound explanation for it, but it worried her all the same.

After all these years, even now, as manager of her own small dessert shop, not far from the original bakery she'd served at, she'd never taken the casse-croûte off the menu.

It would remain there, for the day he might come through the door once again, and she'd say it, just like she'd rehearsed in her mind so many times. 

"Welcome back, Nanami. The usual?"

Pain. This is all that she thinks, all that she feels. It is all-consuming. It isn't like the time she broke her finger after a particularly bad fall when she was ten years old. Not even like the wound left when her mother died; gaping, raw around the edges, on display for all that looked her way.

This pain was, somehow, even worse than that. Pain that twisted and tore through the fabric of her, agony piled on agony, neverending. It stretched beyond her, into a night of unknown horrors that she had no means of comprehending.

Something was very, very wrong with her body. This much she could tell, even as she wove in and out of consciousness. The sense of change to her own form, of being maimed in some fundamental sense, was so strong that she wondered how she was still alive.

His hands. So cold. Pain beyond imagining. She doesn't want to enter that forbidden entryway in her thoughts. Someone did this to her. Someone made her helpless, controlled her. Turned her into this grotesque travesty of a living thing. She should feel furious, that this had been done to her. But she doesn't have the capacity for anything but pleading, begging for a swift release from this torment.

Something is shifting around her now. She cannot even brace for the agony, because there are no known muscles for her to do so. Her body feels like a shapeless, amorphous mass that changes according to the unknown puppeteer's will.

Now, she feels the brush of fetid air on her flesh, the dank, mossy wall of some subterranean feature, a dizzying sense of being propelled at high speed through a narrow space.

Someone is moving alongside her, dodging, weaving. Not the puppeteer. Another. Their movements are swift, strong, filled with a measured grace that dances around her striking, flailing limbs (if they can still be called such) with dexterity. She tries to fight back against the overpowering will, to stop any harm coming to that person. It is futile.

Another shift, her body stretched in another direction. And - oh! Air! Damp and rank in scent, something like a sewer, but never more welcome. Her senses had been cloaked, due to the current nature of her body, but now, she was aware of eyes, ears, nose, a budding mouth that opened in a soundless cry for help.

He heard her.

He was standing over her, feet braced on her alien form. A man in dark glasses and a suit, a strangely patterned sword at his side. The sensation of the strangely blunt blade cleaving her flesh as she hurtles at him is weighted, some kind of energy behind it.

He can cause damage to her in this form! He can ...

But her mouth doesn't work the way it's supposed to. She can't beg him, can't plead with him to end this abysmal existence that only serves as torture. The terror, anger, frustration and hopelessness have no channel by which to reach the outside world any longer.

No! Please! Help me!

Wrung from dregs of her despair, a single tear forms at the corner of her existing eye, rolling down the distended, distorted skin.

Is this it? Is this all she can summon?

But he sees it. His hand is reaching down, towards where she lies, helpless beneath his feet, helpless to the whim of another. His thumb is warm, so warm, as he strokes beneath her eye, dashing away the trace of the tear.

In the moments that follow, before her consciousness finally descends into blessed, blessed darkness, she memorizes the feel of that touch, the last thing on this earthly plane that she'll ever know.

For all her suffering, let it never be said that she hasn't known true kindness.

Gojo and Namamin. Side by side, they're day and night. Yuuji can see that, and often delights in it. He thinks about it now, as he brushes his teeth, one hand carding absently through the tangles in his hair.

Gojo operated on a certain wavelength Yuuji had been attuned to since the very beginning. Nanamin, less so.

When Yuuji really thinks about it, it reminds him somewhat of the recipes his grandfather taught him. Gramps's house was one run on self-sufficiency. There was never an excuse for slacking off.

Gojo was like the spicy miso ramen he'd learned to make, the one with the specially crafted chilli oil and the perfect ramen egg for topping. A wash of heat, scorching the tongue and throat, a burst of flavour that somehow lingered long after it had rushed past your teeth like a flashflood. It entertained, it sustained, it left you feeling warm and energized.

Nanamin was like bread.

Now, Yuuji wasn't crazy about bread. He was more of a rice-bowl kinda guy. But the baking of bread was something he'd never quite managed to get the hang of, to begin with. His grandfather eyeballed ingredients, kneaded with rapid, dexterous fists, added an extra pinch of salt here, or a splash of milk there, depending on the type and texture of bread he wanted. It was as if Gramps could envision an end product that Yuuji had no concept of at all.

Namamin had been just as difficult to gauge in the mixing bowl of Yuuji's experience. Practical, rule-following, collected and proper. Spontaneity could take a hike, as far as Nanamin was concerned. Not the kind of man to pretend to be dead and then hop out of a box when you least expect it.

Ha. Anyway.

Bread. That's the analogy he was going with, and the one he was finding increasingly appropriate.

Pulling on his uniform jacket, Yuuji felt the familiar tug and rumble of hunger ascend from his stomach. He tied the laces on his signature red sneakers and grabbed his backpack, heading for the Tech cafeteria for breakfast.

Thinking over it further, bread was ... a staple. It was not to everyone's taste. It was simple, filling, a great companion piece for more flavourful ingredients. And hellishly difficult to bake correctly. For Yuuji, at least.

Yeah. Bread. It was a good comparison.

Turning the corner, Yuuji nearly ran right into the current occupant of his thoughts.

"Ah ... Nanamin! You're here early today!"

"Good morning, Yuuji. Please be careful. I have a cup of hot coffee here."

Falling into step beside the stoic sorcerer (uninvited) Yuuji decided to share some of his thoughts, an uncharacteristically serious expression adorning his face.

"Nanamin, there's something I've been thinking about."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. If I had to compare you to a food, it'd be bread."

A silence meets this statement. Nanami takes a sip of his coffee. Undeterred, Yuuji continues.

"Like, I love a good katsudon, but when it's midnight and I've been training hard, and I wake up all tired and my body's all sore ... I just go make a sandwich, ya know? Even when Gramps was in hospital and I used to get back from school, and oh, yeah, I sometimes forgot to buy groceries ... there was still bread. Just a loaf, there on the counter. And it didn't matter if there were no other ingredients to cook with, or anything, because you can't go wrong with a fried egg on some fresh, crispy toast. Ahh, yeah. The best."

Nanami adjusted his glasses slightly.

"Itadori ... is this your way of informing me that you find me reliable?"

"Huh? Oh ... I mean, yeah. But that's not all."

"It isn't?"

"Nah. 'Cos I baked bread with my Gramps, see? And it was hard to get right. But I did, at some point. And it felt ... great. And I never got it wrong again. And Gramps is gone now, I know. But when I miss him, kinda, baking bread helps me remember what it was like having him around."

Having said his piece, Yuuji folded his arms behind his head, marching peaceably alongside Nanami, lightly humming the theme song to the latest show he'd been watching. Nanami was now looking down, into his coffee. He didn't take another sip. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than usual.

"I like sandwiches. Trying different fillings is something of a hobby of mine."

Yuuji nods, a light grin forming on his face.

"I can tell."

"Having said that ... I'm partial to fried chicken and beer on a Tuesday afternoon. It ... reminds me of when I was younger."

"Whoa. For real?"

"Yes."

"But Nanamin ... isn't fried chicken and beer the kind of thing you share with others?"

"It is."

"Hmmm."

Yuuji appears to give this some serious thought, before slapping his fist into his palm as an epiphany strikes.

"But wait! Let's get it together next time! I won't drink the beer, don't worry. I can get a soda or something."

"What - "

"And we can order the MegaBox deal that also comes with a medium pizza and cheese croquettes!"

"Yuuji - "

"Oooh, I'm so excited! I wonder what their pizza base is like? But hey, Nanamin, I've gotta run ahead. Maki-senpai's training with me today and she'll kick my ass if I'm late. See ya on Tuesday!"

All thoughts of bread firmly shelved for the present, Yuuji trotted further up the corridor and through the sliding doors of the cafeteria, pausing to wave at Nanami as he left his line of vision.

Yuuji doesn't get to see the small smile that temporarily eases the harsh lines of the sorcerer's face. It is fleeting, gentle, an echo of a smile he'd worn for another, long ago.

Dividers by: @sister-lucifer

[cutest-livv-bean]

🍻💀𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝙼𝚊𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗s

Ok, but If this mf was drunk, it would be a TOTAL disaster...

∙He would drink whatever they gave him without hesitation.

∙He wouldn't stop drinking on his own, you'd have to remind him of that lolllll, otherwise there would be no end.

∙Not to mention the fact that he would barely listen to you under the influence of alcohol 😂XD

∙He's just thousand times more childish than he already is 💀...You have to be patient with this big a$$ baby.

∙The more he drinks, the more he can't stay on his feet..

∙You have to keep an eye on him all the time.

∙He becomes more emotional.

∙Clingy af!!! ... At random moments he would cling to you like a koala and whine about how much he loves you XD

∙King of getting the party started and entertaining people.

∙His mouth just wouldn't close, he wouldn't stop talking, joking or laughing.

∙Comes up with a stupid ideas and does them, and then it always ends badly XD

∙Arranges "Drinking Games " - mostly board games (with shots of vodka)

∙He wouldn't sit still.

∙Seriously, to keep this BAKA indoors in the condition he is, he would have to be chained ;-;

∙He would like to go out drunk and "explore the world" and when you want to stop him, he will cry xd

∙When you are alone with him he gets a bit naughty, and exceeds your limits😈

∙But before the passion begins, he falls asleep on top of you, from drinking too much leaving you with " -_- " face xD

∙Then you have to somehow get out from under him and put that baby to sleep..

∙But almost every time you manage to turn him over, he wakes up and demands more alcohol XDDD:

-Go to sleep Mahito! You drank too much!!! -Wut areh u talkeng bout! I didn't dreenk anytfing tnigh! Letsh open wineh 😠

∙You don't sleep almost all night because of him xD

∙In the mornings he usually has a huge hangover,he happends to vomit🤒

∙You take care of him

∙In the end he apologizes to you for everything and thanks you for being with him🥺

[jugger-heads]

disaster curse [mainly the fave]

[marstothestarz]

Domain Expansion: Where you go I go

I love mahito so much😔😔there aren't enough scenes of him being pathetic to sustain me

[dustbunnylair]

In honor of 4th of July for all of the Jjk fans!!

i am no editor plz forgive me for this is trash

[exiaax]

Special Grade Cursed Spirit of Loneliness Gojo.

Pretend he died during Shinjuku Showdown, and came back as a cursed spirit to whoop Sukuna’s ass.

Incorporated Buddhist elements (circle tattoos, lotus), as well as Asian Long dragon imagery. Lotuses are symbols of enlightenment and cleanliness, specifically a state of being unsullied and reaching skywards. Long Dragons are solitary and the mightiest of mythical beasts. They are benevolent or usually neutral towards humans. I’d like to think of Curse Gojo as a solitary, non-hostile curse.

He has 6 hands not just for the Six-Eyes and throwing hands, but also so he can touch people more. He missed having to touch people when a human, so its to make up for all the hugs he missed :] . The lotus stem wrapping around his waist is sensitive and acts like a tail, its a metaphysical bandage for being bisected in another time============

[nishimiyachan55]

My curse boyfriend

(Chapter one)

Pairing: Mahito(jujutsu kaisen)X reader

Chapters: 1/?

other chapters : chapter 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

Word count: 3.3k

Date!

It was a rainy day. Heavy rain pouring with strong wind. People passing through with umbrella in their hand. You entered your university compound holding an umbrella in your one hand, and your bag on the other. Heavy rain and wind were soaking your clothes and hair. You walked faster as you could to get to the library struggling to hold your umbrella in position from the wind.

You let out a sigh of relief when you finally reach to the stairs to the library room. Closing your umbrella, shaking the water off, you walked the stairs up. Drops of Water falling down from your hair, You put your umbrella in the basket in front of the library entrance. The staff at the library counter greeted you with a smile and you return the greeting with a nod. The library was really quiet, you thought you were the only one there besides the staff lady.

Blending in to the dark gloomy library ambience You let a frown on your face thinking who would come to this boring library on an off day.

Your face filled with disappointment,    “I was suppose to be in my home…. Watching  series….or anime……. Lazily lounging on my bed eating snacks, especially on a rainy day like this….”   You mumbled to your self.  You didn’t want to come to the library on an off day but you had an assignment to work on, for that you need a particular book from the library which led you walking in to the library on a heavy rainy day.

You think about this all while searching for the book you needed. Your white shirt was still wet and was sticking to your body. Legs hurting from your heels, You thought how dumb were you to wear heels on a rainy day like this.  You just wanted to throw them away. 

Skimming through the books on each stacks, finally your eyes locked on the name of the book you wanted. Your lip turned into a faint smile of relief, thinking you can go to your room as soon as this ends. You lift your hand to pull the book out of the stack. But before you could touch it someone pulled the book to the other side of the shelf. Through the gap created by pulling that book, your eyes locked with the person on the other side of the shelf. 

Mismatched eyes, strands of greyish blue hair covering most of his forehead, stiches across his face, his eyes staring into yours. You just stood there for a couple of seconds, then Suddenly break the eye contact with a small jerk, a sudden reflection from your brain. You slowly walked on to the other side of the shelf. Turning the end of the shlef you saw the man’s full figure. Long hair that splits into three knots, something like a dark blue baggy top and skinny pants with a pair of white sneakers. There was stiches on his hand and neck too. But he was surprisingly attractive.

He was standing there looking at you with an amused look on his face. Your eyes fell onto the book which he was holding in his hand. Feeling of shyness taking over Your body, you walked towards him in a slow pace. Your footsteps were  echoing through the walls, you stopped, Standing infront of him looking down to the floor you asked 

 “Uumm…..can you giVe that book to mme…?” 

 Pinning your hair behind your ear you gave a timid glance up to his face lowering your head.

 Looking down at you, he  gave you a confused frown. That face…….. you couldn’t hold your eye contact, looking away from his eyes you said 

 “ It will be a great help…. If you give me that book…”

After a moment of silence, He hummed, rubbing two fingers on his chin and a soft voice came out from his mouth 

“why should I give you this!”

He said this keeping the eye contact still holding that grin on his face. His voice was playful, almost teasing.  Glaring at him you still didn’t know what to say. You need that book it’s important. If you didn’t get it, there is no use in coming all the way to the library in this heavy rain. It will be all for nothing. For a moment you thought of grabbing that book from his hand and running away. But then you thought it will be a stupid idea. Judging from his appearance, its hard for you to grab it from him. You hum in disappointment and said with a pout on your face 

“what will you get huh…! What about I buy you something to eat!?

You wasn’t sure what to say and you knew it was a stupid thing to say. You knew at this point you definitely look dumb. He looked at you blinking his eyes in a childish way and started laughing. You felt more stupid regretting what you said and embarrassment rush through your cheek. You bit your tongue and tried not to show your embarrassment. He wiped a drop of tear from his one eye which formed from laughter. Then took a deep breath looking back at you and started talking 

“that was the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while”

You frowned your eyebrows and looked at him. He extended his hand offering the book to you. At first you face gave a confused look, blinking at the book in his hand and back to his face twice. Then your frown suddenly changed into a smile. You grabbed it from his hand. Finally relieved, letting out a sigh, You thanked him. 

“you don’t know how much your help mean to me” . Holding that book in your hand you continued  “Since you help me with this what about I help finding a book for you?”   you said it in a cheerful way winking at him. He smiled at that and gave you a nod saying “okay!” You two started  looking at the shelfs skimming though different sections.

 Actually telling to help him with finding a book was a bad idea, you thought to yourself. Because you are not a reading type of person. You actually love to stick to your phone all day, scrolling through social media, watching series or listening to music. Reading was never an option for you. You only read for study purpose. So you didn’t know much about books. You didn’t know what to suggest him. But Your eye caught on a interesting name on a book.

You reached to pull it out, and opened it. It was something about literature, something you couldn’t understand. Even looking at it made you yawn. So you decided to suggest him this book, maybe he will think you are familiar with reading. Thinking this in your silly mind You giggled. When you turned back to face him, your face almost hit his chest… He was so close to your face. It gave you chills on your stomach. 

Leaning down taking a better look at the book ,he said “this one looks interesting” . He took that book from your hand.  “You have good taste in books. Don’t ya?”  He complimented you skimming through the pages. You gave a forced smile showing your teeth, rubbing your hand on your head. 

“I’ll take this one” he smiled in a cute way closing his eyes. It made you happy like you did something great.  You two walked out of the library together. It was still raining outside. You took your umbrella from the basket and walked to the stairs with him. He was walking beside you. You peeked at him from the corner of your eye. Focusing on the scars on his face. It felt like he survived from a bad accident or something, barely escaping from death but in a bad shape, which led stitching his whole face together. But still those stiches made him look more handsome.

You wanted to ask his name,and when you were about to ask…. He looked at you. Suddenly you felt something in your stomach, a jolt… and you looked away from him. 

“you study here?” He asked. You nodded. That is when you wondered if he is from here. You never saw someone like that here before. Maybe he doesn’t study here, maybe he just came to the library. Even if he study here how you suppose to know him. The university is too big, you don’t even know all the students in your own department,then how you suppose to know students from other. 

You two reached downstairs. It was still raining. Then you noticed he doesn’t have an umbrella. So you offered him to join you. He took the umbrella from your hand, holding it in his one hand, and with the other he wrapped around your back holding on your shoulder, and he pushed you closer to him so you two can fit in.

 His sudden touch send shivers to your toes. You cling your teeth together. His hands were cold. You tried not to look at him when you two walked in the rain together. Your heartbeat slowly started to raise when the thought clicked in your brain, you were walking with a really hot guy…..you were blushing. But that moment of happiness didn’t last long, with a big sound of horn a car rushed so fast in front of you two splashing water all over your body. You two just stood there for a second, soaking in water, blinking your eyes. It was so embarrassing. You almost cried from embarrassment. At that time you thought if you could vanish from there.

“are you alright!?” He inquired if you were fine

“im alright…”  but your brain screamed you are not! If you could see the guy who drive that car you would definitely slap him. Breaking from that thought you moved on.

 You lead him to a coffee shop near by. It was still crowded on the sidewalk even in this heavy rain. People passing beside you with umbrella on their hand. 

When you reach the coffee shop, he closed your umbrella and set it aside. Opening the glass door, you two entered the shop and looked at the menu. You asked him what he wanted. He was looking at all those different types of flavours with a frown on his face. There were different types of sweets displayed in the glass shelf too. He put his two palms on the glass shelf, pressing his face between them and he looked through the glass. He pouted.

“I don’t know. I never had these before. Maybe you should order something for me…after all its your treat” . He looked back at you with a childish smile. There was something soothing about his voice and the way he smiles. You couldn’t take your eyes of him when he was smiling. 

Finally you ordered something you like. But when you lifted your hand to take the cup from the employee, he was giving you a weird look. Then you looked at your shirt. Your shirt was messy from that car splash, shirt sticking on to your body showing your clothes underneath it. You felt awkward and you grabbed the cups from him and walk out as fast as you could. Holding two cups in your hand you asked 

“ I never asked your name” you gave one cup to him.  “Its mahito” he said holding the cup and looking at it like he saw it for the first time. “and….. yours?”. Your said your name with a smile “its Y/n”.

 The way he play with the straw, pushing air down making bubble sounds made you laugh. It was so cute. He was acting like a child. And when he finally tasted it, he looked confused. He hummed. “Its not that bad”   he pouted. Looking at his gestures you stood there a for a minute in silence. A beep sound break you from that silence. You took your phone out from your bag and checked the message. It was from your friend, the one who recommended you the book,the one who told you to get it from the library. She was asking about the book. You replied to her text and looked back at mahito. He looked so cute with that innocent smile still playing with the straw. You couldn’t help your self from slowly turning on the camera in your phone, and you looked at him though the screen, silently clicking a picture. You made sure he didn't notice. 

 Watching the rain you two stood  at the side of the shop drinking coffee, then you talked in your mind , what’s next! Hmm…..You don’t want to leave him so soon. You just wanted to spend some more time with him. But you didn’t want to ask him to stay with you for more time. It’s embarrassing. But at the same time you don’t want to let him go too. 

“im going to the train station. Where are you off to?”  You asked leaving your thoughts behind. He hummed in return saying,

“ hmm….. I don’t know. I don’t have any plans for today. In that case I’ll walk you to the train station.”

You felt a pressure on your throat,  but from happiness and excitement. You can stay with him for some more time. You tried to hold your excitement. You two continued walking. You hated this rain when you were walking to the library but now you wish this rain would never stop. In this way you can stay close to him under the umbrella.

 You just met him before an hour or so. But still you feel so attracted to him. You never felt like this to someone else. Of course you dated other men, but nothing felt like this. Like he was special and you still couldn’t understand why. Then Suddenly you felt Mahito stopped walking. You paused your footsteps and turn your head to his side. He was looking at a poster on the side walk. It was of a movie playing in theaters. He leaned closer to that poster getting a good look of it. And he pointed at it and turned your side 

“Y/n, do you wanna go for this movie with me?” You stood there for a minute with amusement not knowing what to say. After a moment you felt a jolt in your stomach. It was a surprise for you. You never expected this. Your stomach was again filling with that feeling. “ Umm….. guess I have time for this”. You smiled at him with a nod. 

He hold your wrist leading the way into the theater. Your brain felt like freezing from the sudden touch. You hesitantly followed him. He told you to buy tickets. You bought two of them. You didn’t even look at the movie poster well. It doesn’t even bother you. You just wanted to spend some more time with him. 

You two entered the theater room. It wasn’t crowded at all. Only two or three people were sitting here and there. You searched for your seat and made your self comfortable on the seat when you found it. Mahito sat next to you.

 At that time you felt like it was ‘date’. Or was it a date? You two met, talked, drink coffee together and now you’re watching a movie together. Sounds more like a date to you. Yes a ‘date’….that word echoed in your head, making a big smile on your face. You tried to hide your blush struggling to process all this information in your brain. 

But then a hand rested on yours. At that point you let your guard down you couldn’t handle it. You almost felt dizzy. You were sweating even in that air-conditioned room. He was holding your hand, his clod fingers touching yours crossing with your fingers. Your hand felt slippery. You wanted to wipe the sweat  formed in your palms. You tried to pull away slowly but his grip tightened more holding your hand in place.

 Concentrating on the screen you tried not to pay attention to his hand. But you couldn’t. All your attention was on to his touch. You just sit there like that till the end of the movie. And finally when it was finished you tried to pull your hand back but he hold it still, won’t letting you pull it away from his.  Leaning your side, he lifted his hand holding yours towards his cheeks, slowly caressing your fingers on his cheeks. He looked into your eyes and with a soothing tone he asked “do you need anything in return for buying me movie tickets?” Your heart beat was raising. Your eyes opened wide staring into his mesmerizing eyes.

 You wanted to ask him many things but you couldn’t spill out a word. The way he was looking into your eyes, your silly brain was telling you to kiss him. “No”. It slip from your mouth even if you didn’t wanted to, suppressing all your feelings. He sit still like that for some time still staring into your eyes “Hmm….well then ok. Let’s go”.  He stand up from the seat, leaving your hand and began to walk outside. You felt really disappointed from inside but you didn’t show it. You just followed him.

It was still raining outside. The sky was so dark that it’s already felt like the sun is setting down. You forgot about the time when you were in theater. Your leg was hurting so bad from your  heels. You couldn’t walk so well. You just wanted to throw them away. You were dragging your self struggling to walk.

“Y/n,…if you want I can lift you up in my arms and walk you to the train station”  he noticed your pain.

You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach hearing his words. But you said “ its okay. Im fine. I can walk”

When you two reached the train station, you thought he will say goodbye to you from there. But he didn’t. He escorted you in the train also. At this point you thought maybe he will follow you to your home. That thought send a little spark of fear into your brain. Even though you spend a day with him, he is a complete stranger you just met that day.  He was sitting beside you on the seat. After a short time the train reached your destination. Your home wasn’t that far from your university. It was a short train ride. You walked out from the train,he was still following you. But then when you started to feel a little uncomfortable.

“it’s dark already! Its not a good idea to let you walk home by your own. Who knows what kind of creep you will bump into!?”  Mahito looked concerned about you. “So it’s better I walk you home. Isn’t it?”  His sweet smile pushed that uncomfortable feeling from you and you smiled back. 

Now you were walking with him to your way home. Darkness already covered the streets. It was quiet. When you reach to the corner of the sidewalk near your home, you stopped walking and turned to his side to say goodbye to him.

 “So this is it. I can go from here by my own. Thank you for walking me home and…. For a wonderful day”.  He smiled in a cute way. Before leaving, you wanted to ask for his number and you did. “Um…..is there any way I can contact you?”. You asked fidgeting with your hair. 

“hm….. contacting me huh…well don’t worry. If I wanna see you again I’ll definitely find you”.

 Saying this he turned back and walked away looking at you from over his shoulders. You stood there for a minute looking at him walking away from you. Then you turned back and began to slowly walk to your home. Looking down to the sidewalk, from the corner of your eye, you could see a creepy looking curse passing through the sidewalk.  “Find me huh…!” You mumbled in a low voice.

Mahito was also lost in his thoughts. “So this is what humans call the thing ‘date’ huh! Interesting…” He giggled walking away and blending into the darkness. 

[choso-onii-chan]

Time to do an in-depth Analysis about some Choso things i wanna talk about for a long time now:

We know that he and his siblings, the Death Paintings, were aborted and turned into Cursed Objects. In the official Anime Guide it stated that the fetuses where made into Cursed Objects "after their death" (> abortion), but we know that they where concious over all those years, even able to become aware of their own Cursed Techniques (at least in Choso's case) and somehow even train them (also, did Choso knew the names of all his Techniques because that information was kinda engraved into him, together with Blood Manipulation itself?). Someone's theory was that Choso might actually had a Domain Expandion, with which he trained himself in Blood Manipulation while being sealed, which would actually makes sense and would be very cool!!!

Now about his Cursed Object Form: I believe that, obviously, only their original bodies died and Kenjaku somehow secured their Souls and PROBABLY used their dead fetus' bodies (corpse) as basis for the Cursed Object and put their Souls "back" into their transformed "bodies". I mean, somehow Choso must've had some kind of blood by his side. And Sukuna was turned into a Cursed Object that was made our of parts of his original body (his Fingers) too.

And about the whole Incarnation Stuff: We know, the Vessel has to ingest the Cursed Object, which contents Choso's Soul. The Vessel's brain will be overwritten with the existence of the Soul of the Cursed Object, and if the Vessel is weak (which is the case in here), the appereance of the Vessel changes to the one of the Soul of the Cursed Object. In Choso's case, he never had an developed body yet, but things like hair-, eye- and skincolor and other genetic stuff where still in his (part human) DNA and that overwrote the one of the Vessel, which led to the Body change to Choso's own appereance (how he also would've looked if he would've been able to grow-up like a normal human).

About his blood mark/mark/"tattoo", we know that it is a part of him (it's actually very similar to a birthmark), he was born with, and it is completely connected to his Cursed Technique of Blood Manipulation, since we saw young Noritoshi develope a similar red/black mark on his right eye when using Flowing Red Scale. But in Choso's case it's permanently on his face and i believe that this might be because of his curse DNA, it's the only thing about him (his pale skin and eye bags/circles or just swollen eyes might also be of that reason, but can also have different reasons) that makes him look more "unnatural", the only sign of him being partly curse. FUN FACT: the shape of his Mark strongly resembles the japanese Kanji for "one", 一 ichi, which might be a referance to Choso being the First Born of the Death Paintings.

And, when the Cursed Object is ingested and the whome Body changes, does the Vessel's Blood just only get's "overwritten" by Choso's, or does it "vanish" and get's "filled up with Choso's Blood?

[lilacxquartz]

TO SAVE A BROKEN SOUL • suguru geto x cursed spirit fem!reader

ao3 • masterlist • mdni < previous chapter • next chapter >>

summary: despite this place being your new home, you couldn’t help but feel more lost than ever before.

trigger warnings: uncomfortable scenes & disturbing implications (but nothing graphic yet)

Chapter 3: Human?

It took a while to adjust to the strange new environment that was supposedly your new home, but that feeling of not belonging never went away.

You still felt lost; and being forced into this life, being forced to resign to roam around the select spaces that he permitted you to go—felt dehumanising somehow. As though you were a caged animal on display.

It wasn’t as though you could just leave either, much to your continued frustration. The entire vicinity seemed to be packed with people that he called his family, yet they didn’t take as kindly to you.

The looks they fed you spoke volumes, labelling you as someone, no, something that simply just didn’t belong, at least not in their perfectly constructed world.

The younger girls that you met with before had initially attempted to mimic the behaviour of such people. You supposed that these people were their role models, dispelling their fabricated hatred over to you and expecting the still impressionable minds to follow suit.

Personally, you found that sort of thing to be strange in humanity, quite ugly, actually.

How odd was it that time and time again, that humans were often the cause of their own assigned hatred.

No wonder you existed.

The younger girl who carried a plushie in her hands tried to offer you kindness instead, just a simple smile that was soon squashed under the gaze of a bystander.

“Don’t pay any attention to something so filthy,” an older woman hissed, although she couldn’t have been that much younger or older than Geto. You watched as she ushered the girls away from your sight, muttering something hateful under her breath. “This thing is worse than a monkey and it doesn’t belong here.”

Suguru however passed by, curious as to what the commotion seemed to be just outside. He found it odd that Manami was scolding the girls and dismissively interacting with you, finding that he didn’t quite like when others tried to discipline his daughters. They were both well mannered enough, so what could possibly be the reason?

With a deep sigh, he stepped in to intervene at the scene. “Honestly, enough with the theatrics,” he said to the woman, gesturing his hands to have the girls return to his side, “you’re acting like I don’t bring things in here without a purpose.”

You watched him in the background as this whole scene unfolded, almost curious about how he treated others and especially to someone he claimed earlier to you was essentially like family.

Suguru wearily tried to read more into the situation. In truth however, a part of him did acknowledge that this sort of environment went going to be right for you because of your nature, but also, because not everyone had the capacity to understand. It wasn’t Manami’s fault for being uncomfortable around you, she was already on the fence about his own stored spirits. Maybe after witnessing what you were capable of succumbing to after the incident on the stage, he shouldn’t be allowing you to freely roam to begin with.

This caused him to conclude something in his mind, deciding to speak a notch louder as though to reel in the attention of the other bystanders as well, “Remember, any interference with my own plans means that you’re committing treason against the cause, which will be dealt with accordingly, regardless of your loyalty.”

Despite the threats and warnings he dispensed, you couldn’t help but feel as though there was a hint of possession in his tone. While it didn’t feel as though he was actually defending you, there seemed to be something ever so slightly more behind his words that carried a different sort of weight.

You could feel it, even.

Some sort of tension that hung in the air as he spoke.

All of this revelation and yet you still didn’t understand your place here, though. The way he addressed you, the way he spoke to them—it felt more as though as you were a pest—rather than the promised salvation he kept labelling you as.

Instead, you found yourself believing the words people claimed you to be.

Filthy.

Disgusting.

Maybe even a monster.

~~~

It didn’t take too long for Suguru to lead you away from the prying eyes of his own community however, leading you off into what he dubbed to be a supposed safe sanctuary within his own personal quarters. The girls were conveniently displaced for now, sleeping elsewhere on the grounds.

You couldn’t help but feel worried about his intentions as he led you into his bedroom, feeding you ill-intended promises that nobody else can get into the room.

You simply just didn’t understand the sentiment, you supposed.

Some lingering tension continued to brew in the air the longer that he kept quiet, but then he broke the stagnant atmosphere by pushing you gently towards the corner of the room, forcing you to take several steps back.

His eyes darted around the twisted corners of the bedroom, his voice adopting an amused tone as he began to explain your circumstances to you, “This part of the room is quite interesting, actually. I had someone manipulate it for a… special reason.”

“A barrier…?” you cautiously asked, unable to see the cursed energy that was otherwise presently keeping you contained.

Suguru laughed softly as he shook his head, “Close, but not quite. You see, it allows humans to pass by freely, however, as for you…”

You narrowed your eyes as he trailed off, immediately getting an uneasy feeling as he let the implication fester. You took a few experimental steps forward, finding that an invisible wall blocked your path, no matter how much you tried to force your way past it.

“It’s for your own good,” Suguru spoke in an attempt to assure you, his voice however once again taking on a possessive edge. “This way you’ll keep safe, unable to stray away where you don’t belong again.”

Your reaction this time was visceral as both his words and the invisible wall quite literally held you captive. “I-I don’t like this.”

“Stop resisting,” he replied, his voice carrying a flicker of warning, something in his tone that hinted at something darker, “or would you like me to remind you what I’m capable of should you try to disobey?”

Wanting to hold onto your life, you resigned to a weary sigh. You accepted your fate for now, supposing that as long as you remained alive, then that’s all that mattered for your survival instincts.

You wanted to live.

You wanted to return back home to your unrestricted forest, but you couldn’t. Instead you were forced to remain confined within the shadow of a man crazed, without a single clue of what his intentions truly were.

Just before leaving completely, Sugutu stopped to tell you something else, “I’ll come for you when I need you.”

With that, he left you all alone in the manipulated pocket in his bedroom as a reluctant guest, where you hoped for nothing more than to leave, already certain that you were long overstaying your welcome.

~~~

It was night when he returned to you, finding you in an almost dormant and eerily still state right where he left you. He thought that you looked almost similar to a statue rather than as living, breathing being. Such a feeling was only confirmed further as he reached to touch you, finding that your skin felt firm beneath his touch, although not quite like stone, perhaps closer to hardened clay.

Noticing you opene up your eyes, he took a step back, feeling slightly startled. “It’s almost creepy with how still you can get.”

“I’m not like you, that’s why,” you replied coldly. “I can pass through time like this, sometimes even years.”

He snorted in response, feeling a little fascinated. “So… what? You can hibernate?”

You nodded albeit warily, noticing how his eyes settled on you once again. Much to your continued dismay, you watched as he took a step forward again, pushing his palm flat against your chest, as though searching for a heartbeat to remind himself that you weren’t a human.

Feeling uncomfortable, you tried to step back, finding that you had nowhere to go as he kept you locked in place against the wall. Suguru studied your features closer, feeling both fascinated and uneasy the longer he stared.

“You’re pretty, I’ll admit that much,” he softly told you, “but uncanny.”

His feelings of almost conflicted desire continued to both manifest and stir the longer he looked into your eyes, finding your appearance just as alluring as unsettling at the same time. Perfect, yet frightening.

His fingertips lightly dabbed over your face, carefully tracing over your skin. He took note of how unblemished your flesh seemed to be, so soft, so smooth—nothing like touching a person at all.

“Do you feel emotions?” he asked flatly.

“I do,” you replied calmly, “just not in the same way that you do.”

Suguru could only furrow his brows in deep thought, an unreadable expression forming on his face. For someone who saw you to be so lowly in his company, his touch was so gentle and almost even kind. He couldn’t help but feel mesmerised by your cursed marks, following the bleeding lines down the clothes you wore.

He had seen it before, when he watched you bathe; washed marks sitting over your skin like spilled ink, swimming down the contours of your flesh like cursed watercolour.

He couldn’t help but stare at you in awe; his eyes lingering—settling—on you, his gaze haunting and almost starved.

Finally however, he pulled himself away again as soon as the conflict returned. His voice quickly abandoned the softness from before, adopting a colder, rigid edge, “You’re just a cursed spirit though, aren’t you? You were born through human negativity, so while you think you can mirror what it’s like to be a person, you’re nothing actually close to a real person… are you?”

You didn’t reply, watching him stir away within the confines of his own hateful rhetoric.

“You’re less than…” he trailed off for a moment, surrendering to the hate he broke up earlier. What a hypocrite. “Less a monkey. Simply filth. You’re nothing more than dirt beneath my shoe.”

And despite dishing out those choice words to you, there was something that warred within his mind as he stared at you, as if to imply that he didn’t actually mean what he said. It was as though he told you these things as a way to convince himself not to get any closer to you.

Suguru simply didn’t know how to deal with all of this though, especially as his fascination with you slowly crept into something that closer resembled obsession instead.

It was driving him crazy.

It was as though he wanted to both control and consume you at the same time.

Was it because of what you were?

Because of what he could do…?

He turned away from you momentarily as those sorts of thoughts continued to invade his headspace. While the manipulated space meant that you couldn’t harm him in his sleep should he lay to rest, he found that’s not what actually bothered him.

No. Instead it was the realisation that he didn’t actually mind having you in the same room, being the problem instead. In fact, the idea of you being somewhere else, such as freely roaming the temple, was a prospect that bothered him much, much more.

Steeping away and climbing into bed, he shook off those thoughts before taking one last look at you.

Despite his inner conflict, you remained as till and passive as ever. Completely indifferent and more importantly, unaffected by his tormented desire.

If only you knew just how much he wanted to take you right then and there though, even despite his unease and what he would claim otherwise.

Oh, how Suguru longed to do so right now actually, but stopped himself because of one little thing that bothered him.

When he asked you if you could feel emotions, you told him that yes, you do.

So does that mean you would feel sadness if he forced you?

Hurt?

Anger?

Or being what you are, would you feel anything at all?

~~~

this is part 2 of lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares

[ashleydrawscats]

Assorted curses and Mahoraga ✨

Took a break from work things to draw some JJK characters and I had so much fun drawing them 😊

[smh-illustrations]

𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘑𝘑𝘒 // 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦 // 2024

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𝑰 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒂𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈.

[monstersmashorpass]

SMASH OR PASS: True form Sukuna Ryomen, Jujutsu Kaisen

[waddledeesthings]

Halloween was nice

I, Sukuna was with Mahito (My friend) who was an annoying bitch 😒 (not really!)

Anyways here is me in the costume!

I looked so awesome!

Sorry I posted this late

I was very tired after trick or treating