#the one rika saw

[onepiecebrained]

dreaming

[vrieseasees]

Based on a true work story o7

Yeah I remember vividly how quickly that patient went from grumpy to excited/blushing to having to see a new doc cause their prev one left lol

[marshmallowprotection]

What are your thoughts on the new Cg? Butler Saeran? I’m not use to the him nor Jumin and Zen with glasses. But they look good

Normally, I would do a lengthy analysis post about the image, but there isn’t much here for me to analyze! I do want to write something for the anniversary that I will try to get out before the end of the month, but it's not going to be tacked onto an image analysis since there isn't much for me to say here other than point out a few Easter eggs. 

I got what I wanted. Jaehee in a tuxedo. This is what I manifested at the start of the month and I am grateful that we not only got her in a maid outfit, we got her in a butler outfit, too. Jaehee stans, you have won and she is front and center! This is her moment and she is killing it. I feel the need to stare at her for a little while because it's cute and there's no way I'm going to let this moment pass me by without really appreciating Jaehee aesthetically.

I'll be honest, I don't know why the recent trend has been to make our boy Yoosung super clumsy. He's never really been a clumsy guy and I don't know where someone got the idea that Yoosung isn't on top of what he's doing. I will agree in saying he's probably the easiest person to bully in the entire universe because he's sweet and gullible, but he isn't clumsy, and yet, every image we've gotten of him this year other than his birthday image has had him busting his ass on the ground in one way or another.

Does ANYONE know why they're bullying Yoosung this bad? I mean, he's really cute here and I appreciate that he's trying his best to really impress the MC, but c'mon, give him a break.

I did not realize how badly I needed Jumin in glasses. Jumin's already a very handsome person but somehow adding glasses really elevates it here for some reason. I don't know how his vibe has enhanced for me but it has. I wear glasses myself and I always have, so it's nice to see the characters in glasses in official artwork because I'm always super curious to see how they would look. It's working for Jumin, that I can tell you.

I like that his hair isn't as neat and tidy as it usually is, too.

I fear they have slayed. Saeyoung and Zen are dazzling in their own right and I can't remember the last time they were drawn side by side but I think it's been a little while.

I've already noticed many people have pointed out that Saeyoung is wearing a ring. It's a little bit silly that he's wearing it over his glove, but I have to admit that is something he would do if this were his timeline. He is proud of the fact that he gets to live in this world, and he's even happier to know that he has somebody by his side who understands him more than anyone else. He's definitely that guy who doesn't stop talking about his partner because he's so in love. 

Zen with roses is something I've come to expect because he's also a traditional romantic. Red roses are the best way to captivate someone with your love and it’s no surprise that he follows that path. It might seem a little cliche but who is he if not somebody who loves romantic cliches? He is that guy who would watch romcoms with you all day long regardless of your relationship status with him, he just gets it.

I don't know how I feel about him wearing glasses since he doesn't seem like a glasses guy, but maybe if I saw him in sunglasses I might be able to rationalize this better. He's wearing a stylized pair here and I think it's the gold that's throwing me off. If it was silver, I don't think I would feel as perplexed by how I feel because silver fits him better as that's typically what he chooses for himself.  

Controversial thing to say every time I say it, but I have to tell you guys that Jihyun is still my third favorite character in the game, and I really don’t mind when Saeran and V are drawn together. I recognize that they do this because those two are tied together as the leads of Another Story, just as the core five, meaning Yoosung, Zen, Jaehee, Jumin, and Seven are drawn together.

But, to me, seeing Jihyun with everyone makes me feel like there is a timeline where V did the right thing for everyone and asked for help at the first sign of trouble instead of continually shooting himself in the foot. A lot of the art that's drawn with V included is self-indulgent and can only exist as true fanservice because it would never be true in most routes of the game. 

Normally, I would expect him to look exasperated in art like this but he seems to be fairly confident which is a good change for Jihyun. I’ll take it! 

I have no idea what they're doing here, did they choreograph a song and dance? They aren't the most coordinated members of the group so that makes me want to laugh. It's sweet, but I have a huge feeling they're going to trip over each other if not on their own feet. Saeran is as cute as always, I could talk about him for hours.

Seeing him as a butler always takes me back to when Ray said he would be happy to be your butler in a huge mansion. That was utterly indicative of the fact he was willing to become subservient to you if it meant you would stick around. That’s what the first bad ending is all about. Unfortunately, he thought so poorly of himself that he would be willing to make himself nothing more than something for you to push around if that's what you wanted. 

At least, in this context, he's doing it because he wants to make you happy, sure, but it's not something he's doing to make sure you stick around, he knows you'll still be there no matter what because he doesn't have to work himself to the bone to prove he's worthy of your companionship. 

I don't know if anybody picked this up but the painting is in homage to the anniversary image from two years ago. Rika was in the painting that time, and this time around, it's MC.

I do think it's worth noting that they are playing with light and dark imagery which is to be expected in a game that takes a lot of cues for religious imagery. Rika and MC are always bathed in white and black, light and dark, true contrast.

They're both wearing a dress that goes off of the shoulders, the only difference being the color and the style. MC has a more sleek pattern and Rika is bathed in ruffles. Rika’s seems to be more constrained and MC’s a little more loose around the edges. MC is free to make choices one way or the other by pushing outward, and Rika makes choices that go against her best interest as she pulls inward. I think another CG that plays on this is the BE from V Route.

Love her or hate her, there are important parallels at play here. 

In conclusion, Rika has always been like this in official art and I don't know what to tell you.

[maripr]

It's incredibly hard to read Yu-Gi-Oh when I have to stop at every page bc Yugi and Yami Yugi's bromance makes me so goddamn emo.

However you wanna interpret their relationship, you can't tell me they're not literal soulmates.

Yami used to bet on his life a lot in the early manga because he thought he was Yugi. Another part of Yugi. Since meeting with him eyes to eyes and learning he has been betting on YUGI'S life all the while he's been incredibly ashamed of it and won't forgive anyone who threatens his aibou.

MEANWHILE Yugi has learned that the current villain has a grudge against Yami and wants to kill him which would also mean killing Yugi and Yugi ONLY CARES THAT YAMI IS IN DANGER. I can't. I just can't.

SO EMO over literal soulmates that learn more about themselves while knowing each other and then you have the audacity to ask me why I'm so obsessed with Ozpin and Oscar's bond???

[momomallowart]

TW! Drugs (specifically that fucked up elixir mint eye brews)

Bad End 💔

[yache-berries]

HUGE SHOUT-OUT TO @drawnbinary FOR MAKING THIS A VERY SPECIAL PRIDE MONTH!!! 🥹🌻🍊✨️

[caramelmochacrow]

yk i was working on a post where i tried to guess the next relations event after the kurumi and miiko relations but ig i was gonna be wrong either way bc there wasnt going to be any relations after that lmfao 🥲

[wifeiy]

hehehehe i love You my summer !!!🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

u have probably heard/read me say 90% of these yet I still ran out of tags SOMEHOW. one of tehse days we will be together when it rains and Won't that be lovely day. also ride your wave + maquia + eeaao + your name (idk y). Ok i willstop rhere fr. see u in like 10 hours. HEH.

TELL ME WHAT YOU ASSOCIATE WITH ME

COLORS, SONGS, AESTHETICS, PEOPLE, ANYTHTING

[killjoy-prince]

He's hereeeeeeeee~~~~

[onepiecebrained]

otptober day 28: awkward

[evilpenguinrika]

that fenrir fight in snowcloak dungeon (which btw, the dungeon itself has such a gorgeous music that i just--it's just so pretty) was rough i think i wiped 3 times before i realize there was a freaking SEQUENCE TO THE DAMN ICE SHARDS

but happy it's finally done holy heck

[notlongtolove]

in my dream, i'm fixing your crutch

most nights, spencer wakes to the sound of your sniffles—unlike most nights, he doesn’t have to ask why. the reason is visceral, tangible—staining the sheets when the wound dressing wasn’t tight enough, seeping and pooling right between the both of you where an ocean of your guilt already lies.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: flangst hurt comfort

content: many mentions of wounds and blood. bc spencer was shot. jesus reid woo! established relationship spencer and bau!reader deal with the aftermath of spencer taking a bullet for her

word count: 2.8k

note: based on this ask! for my jesus reid sassy man apocalypse flangst fight and make up lovers... this ones for you! i actually loved writing this sm @esote-rika u wonderful genius u!!! inspired by this poem that she sent me! might be one of my new favorite fics ive written

a line: In the bad dreams, over and over, you’re saying you’re sorry. In the worst dreams, he’s saying he forgives you. 

“I’m sorry.”

Those were the first words out of your mouth when Spencer had woken up in the hospital. Before that, you'd been running on adrenaline, too focused on talking the unsub down. So certain—so sure—that he wouldn’t pull the trigger. That you’d be fine. That the father would be fine. And you were, mostly. 

Because a hard shove sent you both tumbling to the ground. No broken bones, no bloody wounds��Just a bullet in Spencer’s leg instead of yours.

He held your hand through the tears, fingers gentle as they stroked through your hair while you wept against the edge of his hospital bed. Told you I’d take a bullet for you, honey. Spencer always joked about that. Romantic once—now, not so much. It is not an honour you ever wanted to hold.

Crutches for a month. You’d been right there when the doctor ordered it, nodding, asking questions, voicing concerns. The two of you make do, as you always do. You move into his place, helping him with the little things. Because loving someone means loving them in health and in sickness. During the good times and the bad. Two sides of the same coin—But intimacy wears many faces. 

You don’t think you’ve stopped crying since you saw the blood soaking into the grass. 

You try to smile more when Spencer’s around. He says it helps—just as much as the medication, maybe more. So you do. More cuddles than usual. Coffee, just the way he wants it, because come on, the man took a bullet for you, the least you could do is not criticise his sugar intake.

But when he’s not there, the tears come. In the shower, where the water washes them away before you can. Waiting for the coffee to brew, blinking them back so they don’t salt the mug.

You whisper I’m sorrys into his hair when he falls asleep after the Doctor Who reruns, as many as he wants. Hope he feels it in the way your fingers card through his curls, lathering shampoo carefully. Hope he tastes it in the spoonfuls of breakfast you lift to his lips, even though his hands work just fine. Everything served in bed, of course, because that’s where he is.

Because that is where he has to be. 

I’m sorry. You don’t think you’ll ever stop saying it.

Most nights, Spencer wakes to the sound of your sniffles—Unlike most nights, he doesn’t have to ask why. The reason is visceral, tangible—staining the sheets when the wound dressing wasn’t tight enough, seeping and pooling right between the both of you where an ocean of your guilt already lies. 

Still, every night he does wake, he cups your cheeks with warm hands as he murmurs it’s okays. 

He’ll say it again at 2 am, when he’s inevitably forced to rewind the bandage himself because somehow, you never seem to get it right. Another tally mark on the growing list of ways you’ve failed him. 

And again at 4 am, when you shift too close in your sleep, bump against him, and wake to a sharp, stifled wince. Then the tears resurface, and the cycle repeats. God, you’re just a walking Murphy’s Law, aren’t you?

“Do you blame me?” you’d asked him one night, voice meek in the dark.

“You were in danger. I acted. I could never blame you.”

You replay that conversation more often than not. You love Spencer enough to believe that he means it—that in his mind, it’s the only truth that exists. The only truth that could ever exist. 

But you don’t think you love yourself enough to believe it, too.

You move to the couch after the first week. Couldn’t take another night of accidental touches, of hearing his breath hitch in pain and feeling—remembering— that you’d put him there. Spencer had protested, threatened to order an air mattress just to sleep beside you, but you’d won in the end. He needed space. Comfort. Proper rest to heal.

Mostly, you just didn’t want him to see you crying anymore.

The couch isn’t so bad. Smells just enough like him to let it lull you to sleep. Has pillows that are fluffy enough to clutch in your grip when he insists on showering alone for the first time. The couch is close enough to hear the bottle of shampoo hit the floor and the pause that follows when you both realise he can’t bend down to pick it up himself. It’s also far enough away that you hear only the muffled curses that escape him when he tries to dress himself after—Spencer hardly ever swears.

And again, the couch is far enough away that he can’t see you cry.

Intimacy is familiarity, carved deep.

It is not synonymous with love, nor does it innately mean romance. It is a vulnerability between two people, a connection that forms through time, a trust that builds upon circumstance. Intimacy is a blade that cuts through flesh and bone, never to be used lightly. It sees everything—what you are, what he is, what the two of you have always been. 

It’s the chaste kiss you press to his lips before leaving for the jet, van waiting down in the lobby. The long list of instructions, medications, emergency contacts scribbled onto paper—handed off to Garcia. The unanswered calls that drain your battery, each one landing in his voicemail. 

When you’re away, you dream of Spencer. You’re steadying his crutch, rewrapping his wounds, pressing gentle kisses over healing scars. 

In the bad dreams, over and over, you’re saying you’re sorry.

In the worst dreams, he’s saying he forgives you. 

Intimacy is something etched into the marrow of you, amidst the flesh and bone, through the ache and the aftermath.

“Spence?” you call from the doorway, one hand braced against the wall as you toe off your shoes. “You in here? Garcia said you decided to head home.”

A muffled shuffle from his office draws your attention. When you step inside, you find him perched in his desk chair, one hand gripping his crutch, the other stretched toward a book just out of his reach on the bottom shelf. 

“I didn’t decide to head home,” Spencer mutters, still not looking at you. “Garcia sent me home.”

You have to bite back a smile. “Garcia sent you home?” you echo, amused, crossing the room to retrieve the book from the shelf with ease. He returns your kind act with a heavy sigh even as you set the book on the table beside him.

“She was rearranging her case files. Said I was in the way.”

“Aw honey,” you coo, reaching out to fluff his curls. Normally, he’d lean into your touch, eyes going all soft with adoring affection. But tonight, there’s nothing. Your hand falls away, neglected. 

“Have you eaten?” you try, hoping hunger is to blame for his mood. He barely acknowledges the question, offering only a curt nod. 

“What’d you have?”

“One of those instant meals,” he mutters.

You frown. “I thought you hated that stuff.”

Spencer scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m in any position to cook now, am I?”

The window is shut but the study is ice cold. You knew he was upset when Hotch forbade him from coming along on the case. He had told you just as much, his frustrations only thinly veiled in the few text messages he’d sent. But whatever this is, you don’t understand why it’s suddenly being directed at you tonight. 

“Did something happen while I was away?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” The sarcasm that drips in his tone pools together at your feet. 

Most people work to live. Your boyfriend is not most people. He lives to work. The time he doesn’t spend solving cases is spent preparing for the next one—reading, researching, gathering knowledge for the inevitable moment it might be needed. You of all people know he hates being unoccupied. He’d explained it to you once, how much he detests idleness, the feeling of time slipping through his fingers with nothing to show for it.

And now here he is, sidelined. Left behind—with nobody else to point the finger at but you. 

Not Garcia for shoo-ing him out of her Batcave. Not Hotch for being a stickler for the doctor’s orders. Just you. 

“Is that it? You’re upset because Hotch didn’t let you come on the case?”

Spencer doesn't answer so you’re the one to take a step forward—both physically and metaphorically. 

“Spence, talk to me. What’s gotten into you?”

The laugh that leaves Spencer doesn’t really sound like him at all. It comes out sharp and humourless—Empty, essentially. 

“What’s gotten into me?” He exhales, shakes his head. “You mean other than a bullet?”

The breath you were holding slips from your lips, and for a moment, it feels like the bullet never left. It might as well have buried itself hilt deep, slicing through you and back out. Right now, you almost wished that were the case.

A bullet in your boyfriend is not a cross you ever wanted to bear but it is a cross you’re tied to carrying all the same. 

Maybe it had been easier in the beginning. In the holding of hands in the ambulance, in the moving of mugs to accommodate yours. But in the wake of skin and gauze, of antiseptic burning raw and sheets gripped in clenched fists—What is there to thank god for? 

Just a bullet. 

Just a wound. 

Just a bed too small to carry the hurt of two people. 

“Spencer.”

For a man with a limp, he moves fast. The bedroom door slams shut behind him and you’re left to stand there by yourself, guilt seeping into the floorboards under you. Thank god for the couch. 

You don’t dream of Spencer tonight. You don’t sleep at all. Which is why you hear it—the crutch slipping, the clattering against the wood of the floor. You tiptoe to the bedroom door, nudging it open.

“Hey, everything alright? Need your meds? Water? I can get—”

“S'fine,” Spencer says. His sigh is as heavy as it is exhausted as he bends down to retrieve his crutch. 

“Oh. Okay…” You hesitate, lingering by the door. “Goodnight then.”

“Sweetheart—” Spencer exhales, soft and uneven. “I—I… wanted to talk.” 

You swallow. “Talk?” 

“What I did—how I acted just now—that wasn’t okay. And I’m sorry.”

It sounds weird coming from him. Wrong, almost. A man who took a bullet for you shouldn’t be apologising. A thousand sorrys from you wouldn’t even come close to enough, and you’re certain you’ve already said more than that.

“You don’t need to apologise, Spence, you—”

“I do.”

He tries to stand. You’re at his side before he can, pressing him back down with a gentle hand against his shoulder as you take a seat by the edge of the bed too. 

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I was frustrated. At Hotch, at Garcia, at myself. And I took it out on you.”

You nod silently, trying to understand.

“I’m not used to this,” he admits. “Being taken care of. Needing to be taken care of. It’s... hard. What I said before I left the room… I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

Spencer isn’t one to dance around words. He thrives on specifics. Tonight, he doesn’t need to name it. 

What’s gotten into me? You mean other than a bullet? The words have been reverberating in your skull since he said it. 

“Do you—” Your voice sounds hollow in your throat, shaking as it leaves you. “Can you forgive me?” 

Spencer’s seen you cry before. But the sight of you wiping away your own tears is not one he’s used to. He’s used to holding you through it, with soft hands, with light kisses. So, he takes your hand first, then coaxes your gaze up  to meet his. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile since you’ve gotten back. 

“Angel,” he breathes, “there’s nothing to forgive. I don’t blame you. For any of it. Do you remember what I said the first time?” 

“I—yeah.”

“You were in danger. I acted. Simple as that.” 

In theory, it is simple. Bullets move at roughly 2,700 feet per second. To reach you first, Spencer must have moved at 2,701. 

It is not a lifetime of love of reflected in a single split second. It is a lifetime of love refracted, redirected—Love forced onto a different path the moment the bullet entered his body. Two sides of the same coin, wild violence amidst the intimacy. You see it day after day in the blood that trickles down his leg, in how his skin splits open in millimetres, in the way his body punishes itself for what his heart decided. 

It is agonising to see how softly he hurts. 

“I just—I’m so sorry, Spence. For this. For everything.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “do you trust me?”

Your head jerks up. You sit straighter, wiping at your nose with the sleeve of your sweater. “Yeah, of course, Spence, I—”

“Then I need you to believe me when I say this.” He shifts, taking both your hands into his. He winces slightly but doesn’t let it stop him. “This? This isn’t your fault. Not at all. I need you to know that, baby. Okay?” 

You’ve never been one to hold back or stay quiet during arguments with Spencer. Especially when he’s the first to admit he’s wrong—And, being Spencer, that hardly ever happens. More than you’d like to admit, he’s usually right. But this is different.

Because Spencer is wrong. He shouldn’t have said it. But “shouldn’t” doesn’t make it untrue.

Spencer was shot. Fact.

You weren’t. Fact.

And you weren’t shot because Spencer took the bullet for you.

Fact upon fact, stacking too tall, pressing down hard, choking you out. 

“But it is though,” you whisper, though it comes out as more of a cry. “Spence, if it weren’t for me—”

“Honey, there is no version of events where I would’ve ever let that bullet touch you.” He gives your hands a light squeeze. “None.”

There is an intimacy in knowing love, at its core, is a kind of violence. It is a body rashly moved by instinct before the mind catches up. It is the sacrifice of flesh before the heart has even finished deciding, of stepping into the line of fire before you’ve even realised that you’ve moved. 

With his heart, mind and body—That is how violently Spencer Reid loves you. 

Spencer has always been fast. Faster than the bullet meant for you. Fast to love, quicker to comfort—He presses a kiss to your cheek where the last tear falls. “I mean it when I say that there is nothing you could’ve done, or Hotch could’ve done, or the Unsub could’ve done that wouldn’t have resulted in me taking the bullet for you.”

“Well,” you start, voice still sniffly from the remnants of your tears, “the unsub could’ve just... not shot.”

Spencer blinks. For a second, he’s still caught in the weight of his emotions. Then, his lips twitch, a knowing smile breaking through as he rolls his eyes.

“Smartass.”

A small giggle bubbles out of you. You lift your joined hands to press light kisses into the spaces between his fingers, into the cracks of him that you can reach. He lets you. Spencer doesn’t remember the last time you touched him like this—Not careful, not afraid. Not like guilt kissed your fingertips before they ever touched his skin.

“Baby,” he mumbles.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Spence.”

For the first time in weeks, you’re looking at him the way you always have. Not like a martyr you never asked for, carrying the weight of a sacrifice you never wanted him to make.

For the first time in weeks, you’re looking at him like it’s just him, and it’s just you. 

No bullet. No blood. Just him. Just you.

“Will you sleep in here tonight?”

You freeze. He feels it immediately. 

“Spence, I—I don’t know, I don’t want to hurt—” you murmur, blinking down at your interlocked fingers.

“You won’t,” he’s quick to reassure. “I just want you next to me. The sheets don’t smell like you anymore and I never sleep well without you. I wake up, and you’re out there, and it feels wrong. I just want to hold you. Please? It’s been days.” 

You’re helpless when he speaks like that. Besides, the man took a bullet for you—how could you ever say no to him again, for as long as you live?

So you nod, shifting closer, barely hesitating before crawling into bed beside him. After some readjusting, you hear Spencer exhale, feel his arm curling around you, slotting you against his side like muscle memory. For the first time in days, you let yourself be held.

His lips brush your skin as he whispers, “thank you.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: savior complex by phoebe bridgers inside your mind by the 1975

[meiieiri]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: toji will never forget the first night he spent away from the zenin clan and the day he met you.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: saw you in a dream, timeless | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse but generally pretty much a fluff fic where toji and y/n meet for the first time. | a/n: finally launching my little love project called “hidden inventory: the lost tapes”! 🍒

Now isn’t this just perfect?

Toji’s is just one inconvenience away from just going back to the Zenin clan with his tail between his legs. First, he underestimates just how expensive living in Tokyo is so, with what little pocket money his emotionally distant mother gave him before he left the estate, the first thing he does is spend it all on a girl — in broad daylight — he’s heard his brother, Jinichi, talk about those cute little call girls that crawl the streets of Kabukichō with flyers in their hand for thirty-minute “massages”. Naturally, as a young man who is only first experiencing the carnal joys the city has to offer, Toji was curious and he took the bait.

A bait that cost him ¥30,000 and the girl was unfortunately sloppy at best.

Now, he doesn’t have money to buy so much as a soggy red bean pancake for dinner. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around this dingy part of Shinjuku but as long as the red light district’s trashy ambience is distracting him from the growling of his stomach, then, he’ll stumble around this hellhole until morning.

“Ha! You won’t even last two minutes out there!” That’s what Naobito Zenin, the head of the clan said to him when he left. “Only two things await you when you get out of here, either you’ll die hungry or a cursed spirit will get to you first — either way, you’ll die with your eyes wide open with no one!”

Overrun by his thoughts, Toji doesn’t even notice that he accidentally intruded on a random cockroach and curse-infested alleyway that apparently belonged to some junkie who is now angrily telling him to get lost. “I was just looking for a place to sit down,” Toji scoffs. Weren’t they both bottom feeders in this city? Why was this rancid-smelling meth addict acting like he’s any better than him?

“Well, go sit somewhere else, this place is off-limits!”

It was almost funny how Toji thought that the world beyond the gates of the Zenin estate was any better than the shit show he was born into.

He should have known better than to be enticed by the glitz and glamour of living independently from his abusive family who at least had the decency to feed him maggoty rice from the estate’s second storehouse dedicated to prepare the animals’ food. They also gave him shelter, of course, he’s had to live in the Zenin estate’s shed for a while now since his father discovered he was born useless without an ounce of cursed energy. But at least he was warm, and the termites made him feel less lonely.

He continues on in his aimless quest. The night is still young. There’s plenty of time for self-depreciating introspection.

Hopefully, that grade three cursed spirit that’s been following him around the block for a while now gets to him first before the rain does.

“That guy over there,” your coworker whispers to you from the cash registers. “He’s been there for a while now and he hasn’t ordered anything.”

You look up from your pocketbook, your eyes curiously trained on the rugged looking man whose eyes were downcast, trained on the service water he requested from the counter when he came in. As if he could feel a pair of eyes on him, he looks up, and glances your way for a bit but you quickly hide your face behind your book.

“He kinda looks like trouble, no? Shady too, just look at the scar on his lip…”

“It’s not fair to judge someone like that, Rika-chan,” you whispered to your junior, turning to arrange the menus, painstakingly wiping each one clean with a cloth dampened with sanitizer. A small smirk appears on Toji’s lips at your passive defense of his character and as if to goad you on, he drums his fingertips against the table daring you to say another word. “Anyway, I’ll handle closing the shop tonight. You need to get home since you have class in a few hours.”

That seemed sudden. Rika looks at you funnily before shrugging off her apron in favor of her raincoat. “Well, alright, if you insist. Should I clean up the kitchen at least?”

“I’ll handle it,” you give her a thumbs up, waving her goodbye as she leaves through the backdoor. Now that you’re alone, you could hardly stop yourself from glancing at the mysterious man, and Toji himself wonders if his presence here is starting to turn into a nuisance. You were probably waiting for him to step out so you could close shop for the night but it’s raining hard right now and there are no other places open nearby to take shelter in.

The chair’s feet screeches against the wooden floorboards and you head to the restaurant’s kitchen. Toji stares at your retreating form, looks like he overstayed his welcome. He searches around for a few coins to give to you for your hospitality, of course, it probably doesn’t mean jack shit, but you must have known he didn’t have enough money for a meal when he came in here. You would have realized that immediately. But you allowed him to stay regardless.

You return a couple of minutes later with a bowl miso soup with ginger pork gyoza and shredded cabbages. You set the bowl down in front of him and Toji is thoroughly taken aback, he looks at you dumbfounded. “I don’t have any money,” his voice comes out a little gruffly but you barely flinch at the sharp edge of his tone.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Refilling his water, you explained that while you could have easily stuffed those leftovers back in the freezer, customers wouldn’t want to eat frozen food, so, you decide to heat these items up to give to him instead. “Oh,” Toji answers a little dumbly. “Or you could have thrown them out.” He stares at the sumptuous meal in front of him. Even in the Zenin estate, he never had such good food laid out in front of him before and it was surreal to see a stranger do the things his family should have done for him.

You return to the counter, leaning on your forearms as you engage in light banter with him. “You’re saying I should feed rats over people?” you chuckled, sitting back down, smiling softly when Toji gingerly bringing the bowl of miso soup to his lips, the rich earthy broth warming his throat that he lets out a content sigh.

He smirks at your little remark. “I’m saying you shouldn’t make a habit of feeding strays.” He polishes his soup bowl clean within minutes and you have to remind him to slow down every now and then as you watched him eat ravenously. “You never know when you could get that dainty hand of yours bitten off.”

You blushed pink at that. He was right, being too generous could cost you dearly one day but being the altruistic soul that you are, you’ll probably continue to be graciously selfless despite the risk of being taken advantage of. It’s just how you are as a person who believes that a little kindness can make the world better than it was yesterday. “I…don’t really know about that…whether I get bitten or not by the people I help isn’t really something I can control. The world would be better off if people just learned to be kind to one another.”

Toji hums at your naive countenance, folding his arms over the table. The room is silent for a few minutes save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t ya?”

“And you’re a pessimist,” you answered, quirking an amused eyebrow at him. “Who doesn’t even know how to say thank you.” You stand up to clear out the table, a teasing glint in your eyes as your curious orbs collide.

Toji scoffs, leaning against his seat, crossing his legs. At his reluctance, you shake your head, giggling softly. What an infuriating interesting guy. Toji hears the rushing of tap water from behind the counter and he smiles inwardly. The rain begins to slowly stop and he takes this window of opportunity to leave.

You don’t even try to hide your disappointment when you come back to the dining room only to find it empty, the stranger having left nothing in his wake — not a goodbye, not a thank you, and certainly not his name — except a single rusty five yen coin on the table.

Clang-dong!

“Hello, welcome—“ You stop mid-sentence. Your throat constricting with a mix of emotions, the most dominant one being joy at this happy chance, you’d recognize those sharp dark green eyes anywhere despite only first seeing them a week ago. After all, they looked so dangerously beautiful under the dim light of the dining room’s ceiling lampshade. “—back. Welcome back,” you smiled brightly at Toji.

Toji nods, his hand coming up to cover his lips as he coughs once. “Thanks…ah, right — shit, where is it?” After rummaging around his parachute jacket’s many pockets, he finally takes out his wallet and you look at him, bewildered, when he hands a few hundred yen bills to you. “For last week. Sorry I couldn’t pay you back then.”

“It’s fine.” You take his larger, calloused hand and return the money which Toji responds to by stubbornly placing it on the table.

Toji pinches the bridge of his nose when you playfully return the gesture by rolling it up and placing it in his jacket pocket, buttoning it. “Look, it was real nice of you to treat me back then, but I’m not a charity case, alright? I just wanna pay my dues.”

“Then, a simple ‘thank you’ is enough.” Toji just couldn’t understand you. You have absolutely no reason to be nice to him, but you are. For a moment, he begins to fall into the enticing thought that maybe life outside the Zenin estate won’t be too bad after all if there are people like you still around just waiting at random corners to be found in joyful happenstances such as waiting out a storm at a random family-style restaurant over a heartwarming serving of miso soup with tender pieces of gyoza and cabbage.

Relenting, he smirks at you, unable to figure you out. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, need a table for lunch?” you smiled warmly at him as you lead him to the table he sat in a week ago which you now affectionately refer to as ‘his’ table instead of table number four.

Toji nods following your lead and chuckling when you hand him the menu. “Where’s that thing I had last time?“ he oddly flips through the booklet.

“Oh uh…it’s not on the menu actually, but I could make that for you if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.” Toji hands you back the menu. You are just about to scurry away to the kitchen when he calls out to you. “So, do you have a name or should I just keep referring to you as gyoza girl or something?” Embarrassed at the way your knees seem to become weak at his boyish grin, you have to take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him again. “I’m Toji.”

He doesn’t say his last name. He doesn’t feel the need to anymore now that he’s finally closing the door to his past. You nod, noting how the name suited him. It’s brief but strong, muted but loud in its rhythm. Toji. At that moment, you find it impossible to name a prettier sound. After a few excruciating minutes in the kitchen, you come back out with two bowls of miso soup this time around and you sit down on the chair directly in front of him.

“Y/N.”

Toji repeats the melody of your name in his head. “And how much do I owe ya for this, Y/N?”

You shrugged as the two of you dig in, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you chew the steamed gyoza, joining him as he laughs (well, he’s scoffing more than actually laughing, really), his eyes alight with wonder, when you simply say, “Five yen.”

[boarcide]

the more I mull this over, the more it feels like Akutagawa essentially, inadvertently cursed Atsushi the moment he said this. Atsushi is his mirror image, what he can or can’t be. His other half and almost the same soul in different bodies…unintentionally or not, Akutagawa willed what would happen to him and it became Atsushi’s reality

It's just funny because I always liked to stretch how doomed Akutagawa is and how he was fated to die since the beginning; but now it's like, what if it's Atsushi who's doomed. What if Akutagawa dying was just the consequence of being close to Atsushi, and the cursed one is actually Atsushi, cursed to bring death to anyone that gets close to him. Much to think about

[inwumaki]

Jealous Jealous Jealous boy~

Anime: Jjk/Jujutsu Kaisen

Characters: Yuta Okkotsu ft. Yuji Itadori

Synopsis: Headcanons on jealous best friend Yuta? [Fluff!!]

Others: Boyfriend Megumi headcanons

Jealous bestfriend Yuta at first did not understand his feelings he was very oblivious but when he returned back from Africa and saw you all buddy buddy with the new first year Yuji Itadori something clicked in him.

Jealous bestfriend Yuta definitely went over to Inumaki, Panda and Maki. They were the ones to point it out that he probably liked you. Yuta was at denial at first but when he thought about it more he realized they were right.

Jealous bestfriend Yuta would always come stand beside you whenever he saw you alone with Itadori, he would internally be in a conflict with himself—one side calling him shameless for acting like that and the other...well just wants you to himself.

Jealous bestfriend Yuta would probably overthink to himself and get insecure at the sight of your enjoying yourself with Itadori, at some point he probably even considered giving up his feelings but then you would come to him randomly and rant about the most random things he couldn't help but sit there and admire you.

Jealous bestfriend Yuta would do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING to distract you from Itadori, you plan on going somewhere with the guy? Suddenly Yuta is feeling sick...you and Itadori have a mission together? Suddenly he's free and wants to join you two, Itadori and you are about to give eachother a friendly hug? Suddenly Yuta's head is aching and you have to escort him to his dorm. He would make the most random excuses just for you to not get too close to Yuji.

Jealous bestfriend Yuta often worry if you figured him out yet. Well to answer that you didn't—why? Well you would think he's still hasn't moved on from Rika, it's not like you wouldn't notice how weird he acted whenever you were with Yuji but you shrugged it off.

Jealous bestfriend Yuta would be insanely clingy whenever he got jealous.

Jealous bestfriend Yuta when he once saw you hug Itadori his heartbeat stopped, he could swear on Gojo sensei. That day was the end of his patience, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you aside, his face all flushed and blushy mushy..

He softly mumbled "why can't you see?" You obviously being confused asked him what's wrong "is everything fine Yuu? You seem-" Yuta was quick to speak up, his face might be red but he had a confident face on "No everything is not fine..you're always with Itadori, what about me?". "What about you? You're my bestfrie-" Yuta cut you off "that's the reason everything is not fine...I like you, can't you see?".

Well that's how it went.

[animeyanderelover]

Yay, your recs are open! Hope you're doing great and your health is good :)

This one is pretty dark, so ignore this if smth!

If you know about Tomie, could you do some jjk characters of your choice with a darling with similar powers? Like, she can't die fully, always returns no matter how cruel was her death, and for some reason all non-sorcerers are going crazy after being in contact with her for a some time – and, maybe, at some point even a yandere starts feeling a strange need to cause harm to her. Bonus points if she gives femme fatale vibes, but actually is much sweeter and kinder person than she may look.

Thanks, and have a great day!

I hope you don't mind that I made the darling in here the curse of obsession because this would fit the theme very nicely and would crank the Yandere scale to an incredibly creepy level. I know a bit about her since my best friend is a huge fan of Junji Ito works and she especially adores Tomie and Uzumaki.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, isolation, abduction, death of s/o, murder, mentions of cannibalism, nudity, mentions of dub-con, sexual themes, starvation

The curse of eternal obsession

Okkotsu Yuta

💍​Walking through the streets of Tokyo, no human would suspect you to be the cursed being that you are. Instead there is an aura of allure and mystery around you, something that seems to draw them to you like a moth to a flame. Bound to be consumed by the fire. Yet Yuta seems to bring a quick end to your life when he senses your eerie cursed energy. There are no words spared as he attacks you, your calm and beautiful face chilling as he exorcises you as if you have lived through death already multiple times before. Your face is something that seems to be stuck in his mind as it is the thing he sees as soon as he closes his eyes. It agitates him, disturbs him but he tries to calm himself by reminding himself that he has already killed you. Until he meets you again in the middle of the fight as you sit on the ground, surrounded by the blood of two men who have stabbed each other to death. When your eyes meet his own, there is the same serene look on your face as Rika brutally assaults you and Yuta watches how she tears you apart, a lump in his throat.

💍​You should be dead. He watched how Rika murdered you. He even murdered you one time himself. Yet only a few days later you stand in front of him again, greeting him politely before you walk away, your hair swaying in the wind. Yuta can only watch you with a racing heart whilst you disappear in the crowd. A few days later he receives word that a group of friends were found all dead. The police suspects that all of them strangled and beat each other to death in violent ways that are rare to find and his mind immediately suspects you to be the culprit. Whenever you appear it only takes a few days before news about violent deaths and gruesome suicides appear on the news as your mere presence seems to drive non-sorcerers to madness yet he has seen with his own eyes that you seem to possess an immortality unlike anything he has ever seen. To protect the public from your cursed energy, he captures you the next time he finds you.

💍​Yet when he tracks you down he is witness to a violent crime that would have made the average person empty their stomach. Even Yuta can't help the creeping feeling of horror as he watches a woman dismembering you with a saw before she cuts her own neck with the saw until she dies of blood loss. There is a strange sense of fury flowing through his veins as he collects every part of you, his heart clenching when he picks up your head with dull and lifeless eyes yet to his great disturbance even dismembered and dead, you still possess an attractiveness that he shouldn't feel about a violated corpse. He locks all of the parts away from you instantly and stays away from the room you are in to clear his mind and get away from the cursed energy you still seem to produce even in your temporary death. He can't get a wink of sleep that night as his heart never stops pounding nor does he seem to get your face out of his mind. When he gathers the courage the next morning to peek inside the room, his heart tumbles when he sees that you have regenerated and sit there completely naked, the sight of your body sending sparks of arousal through his body before he hurries up to give you something to wear.

💍​He keeps you there, locked inside the basement and stays as far away from you as possible. He has never encountered a curse such as you that has affected him as greatly as you do and he has to fight constantly against the temptation to see you as he finds himself standing in front of the door separating you from him multiple times a day, his nails digging into his palms as he bites his lips until he can taste blood. Even when he is not seeing you, Yuta can still sense the cursed energy of yours that is wrapping itself around his body like a snake and as weeks pass by, he finds himself falling asleep to horrifying fantasies about you that have him waking up drenched in sweat and with a raging boner that only throws him down into a spiral of disgust, shame and insanity. Until one day after roughly three weeks your cursed energy disappears. He should feel relieved about it yet his heart drops with such intense anxiety that has him nearly ripping out the door leading to your room. As soon as he sees your thin and dead body laying on the ground, he feels something shattering as he suddenly bursts out in tears. He starved you to death.

💍​He carries your light and thin body to his own bed and lays you down before he waits. He sits there and waits for hours in agony until your cursed energy picks up strength again and your body regains its healthy and otherwordly beauty. As soon as your eyes flutter open, Yuta's face is the first thing you sees. His heart starts beating with excitement as he tells you that he will prepare something to eat for you before he rushes to the kitchen. It is only after he has prepared the food and serves it to you that he realises what he is doing and for a short moment he feels a spark of hot wrath that you have reduced him to this yet when you open your mouth and he hears your voice for the first time, his anger melts away. It is a soft and sweet sound that echoes in his mind long after you have told him your gratitude for the food. An infatuated smile appears on his face as he watches you eat the food before he asks you if you would like to take a bath. The following days you suddenly get a lot more freedom, although you are still kept within the house but that isn't solely because you are a threat to non-sorcerers anymore. It is also because Yuta feels a possessive yearning to see you whenever he wants.

💍​You are unlike any curse he has ever seen. Not only are you beautiful and gorgeous but you are also soft-spoken, kind and even somewhat shy. You help him with the household as you insist on showing your gratitude by preparing him meals and washing his clothes to the point where Yuta feels like you are his housewife and that image has his heart racing and his body reacting. You insist on sleeping on the couch when Yuta offers you to share a bed with him as you don't want to breach his private space and you reject it until he snaps at you with a frightening look on his face and a tight grip on your arms that could break bones. He instantly withdraws his hands when he regains his sanity and apologises hastily to you with tears in his eyes. He clings to your warm body at night, taking deep whiffs of your scent. Everything about you drives him crazy, the feeling of your skin against his electrical. There is a constant arousal keeping him half-hard at night as temptation grows stronger until he starts dry-humping against your thigh or ass, praying that you are asleep. Until you one night run your fingers soothingly through his hair whilst he is humping, causing him to let out a choked moan as he cums.

💍​Yuta spends weeks on cloud nine as he fully indulges in everything. He treats you like his precious wife as he buys you cute dresses and even gifts you a ring which he insists for you to wear. You never deny him anything as you allow his touchy behavior as he holds your hands, kisses you and eventually even has sex with you and this fuels Yuta's delusion that you feel the same as he does. It is almost sickening how sweet he acts with you. All until one day he crosses paths with an acquaintance who knew someone who came in contact with you and when Yuta finds out that they know about your existance, he suddenly feels a feeling of paranoia about your safety as he suddenly sees this non-sorcerer as a threat to you. He feels the urge to call out Rika but decides to pry for information for now. They open up to him, perhaps because they just want to tell someone who shows interest as no one has believed them so far and the story that they tell him shatters his pretty delusion. They tell him how their dead ex-lover left them for you, abducted you and apparently even had sex with you and how they called them moments before they jumped from a building to tell them in tears that they ended up killing you.

💍​Yuta lets Rika kill that person within the same day as a wrath has suddenly festered inside of him. At first he believes that they are lying because you only love him and you would never allow another person to touch you the same way he touches you. You love him. But when he sees their corpse, a realisation slowly settles in. You are a curse. A curse that has always driven people mad and Yuta is no exception. He's just killed an innocent non-sorcerer. And it's your fault. Disgust, pain and wrath cause him to spiral down violently as he all but storms back to his house to murder you and take revenge on you for deceiving and using him. When he arrives home, he finds you asleep on the couch and for a moment his eyes just take in your beauty as you lay there so innocently before his gaze zooms in on your neck. In the next moment he is choking you, his body on top of yours. Your eyes fly open as you start whining and choking whilst he is watching you with a dark glint in his eyes, taking in with joy your suffering form. Then your eyes meet his own though. No shock, ne fear, no guilt. Instead all he sees inside those orbs is acceptance and pity. You are pitying him.

💍​It is this look in your eyes that throws him off as he lets go and stumbles away from you, staring at you with shock and agitation. Why are you giving him this look?! You don't say anything as you instead just give him a sweet smile that tears his heart open. What kind of monster are you to deceive him even now? You know how much he adores that smile of yours. He's on the verge of crying as he pulls out his katana to dismember you but then he suddenly freezes. His wrath dies down as he stares at the katana in his hands and his eyes widen as he drops it and sinks down on his knees as he suddenly becomes aware of his own horrifying thoughts he just had. He just looks at you for a few minutes before he suddenly bursts out in tears when he seems to realise something. That you never had any choice but allow people to do what they want to do with you. Your own curse brings you as much misery as everyone around you and your immortality forces you to endure it over and over again. You are a victim. He crawls back on top of you and apologises to you whilst his hot tears fall on your face, promises you in between sweet kisses on your neck that he will never harm you again.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​There you are, walking through the streets together with a man following you with infatuated eagerness as he constantly points at stores and offers to blow all of his money on you yet you only shake your head politely. Your cursed energy isn't oppressing nor is it filling the entire area but Satoru can sense how potent it is as he happens to be in the same area as you. He's currently there to buy something for his students when he senses you and blue eyes instantly race over the crowd to detect the source of it. An exceptionally beautiful man himself, even he can't deny your sheer beauty as he finally finds you. He watches as you point to a store selling candy and the man who is accompanying you eagerly nods his head before he rushes to buy you something. You seem to observe him for a while before you turn your head in an inhuman way and your own glowing eyes meet Satoru's as you have recognised his presence as well and want to let him know about it. Your cursed energy spikes and Satoru wonders if he will have to use his Domain Expansion if you decide to attack but you don't seem to plan on doing so as you crack your head back and wait with folded hands for the man to return.

🩵​Something about you is off though, majorly off, so Gojo decides to follow you. You have clearly seduced the man who seems to be on all four for you and Satoru doesn't blame him. You are beautiful and gorgeous as even your cursed energy is tempting but that won't stop Gojo from exorcising you. He is even bold enough to approach you when your victim leaves you alone for a moment to murmur in your ear that you appear quite calm despite the fact that you know that he is following you. You only glance at him briefly and Satoru almost drowns in those enchanting eyes of yours before a loud yelling interrupts him. So lost was he in your gaze that he didn't even notice the man returning. If looks could kill, Gojo would have died thrice now as he can quite literally see the man shaking with rage and for a few seconds Gojo is convinced that he will come for his throat before the man just grabs your hand violently and drags you away. Blue eyes narrow as Satoru waits for a while before he decides to trail after you again. He suddenly has a bad feeling about this and eventually he finds out the apartment where the man apparently lives. He's already standing in front of the door when the commotion suddenly starts.

🩵​Loud screams and wails belonging to the man are heard, crying out your name before they are followed by screams of pain and the shattering of a window. That's when Gojo breaks the door open and the scene he sees inside is not pretty. Shards of a broken vase are stuck in your neck and even your now deformed face and the shattered window is painted with red blood from the now dead man who must have hit his head against it until it broke and he died. Yet Gojo can still sense the cursed energy from you, can almost feel it crawling towards his own body. He watches your bloody form alarmed, something warning him that something truly isn't right with even though he can't figure out what it is. When he notices your fingers twitching and your body twisting, he acts quicker than he can even react as he kills you and senses your cursed energy vanishing completely. A few days later he decides to visit the graveyard of the man as he has for some reason not been able to forget about you. When he senses a familiar cursed energy though, he feels his muscles tensing as this shouldn't be possible. Yet there you are, kneeling in front of the graveyard.

🩵​He is instantly behind you, throwing a shadow over you as his hands linger over your head as if considering to rip it off yet he doesn't as his eyes narrow in confusion and wariness. You are supposed to be dead. Why are you still alive? You lean your head back to look at him and only greet him politely before you arrange the flowers you have brought with you on the man's grave before standing up again and leaving. The white-haired man stops you though as he grabs your arm so tightly that your bone might break as he asks you how you are still alive. You cascade your gaze very shortly down to the ground, seemingly reminiscing about something, before you meet his intense gaze. He could swear that you almost look a bit sad as you merely tell him that you are eternal. You hold his gaze for too long until he feels threatened to get lost in those eyes again which causes him to let go of you. Blue eyes are glued to your form as you walk gracefully away, his eyes roaming over the shape of your body until he can't sense you anymore. Only then does he feel the urge to follow you die down a bit.

🩵​He is almost ashamed of his own lack of self-control when he senses your energy a few weeks later again and the urge to see you again just takes over him. Truth is, he has been thinking about you a lot ever since. Your mysterious words have stuck with him as he has been trying to figure out what you meant and your hypnotising gaze has been following him in his sleep. He is shocked to find you though. Half-naked and with deep cuts littering your skin as you are held down by the neck as the man above you traces a long knife down the curves of your body. Briefly he is reminded of your deformed face and bloody body when he met you for the first time and suddenly rage starts to cloud his vision. A hot wave of jealousy falls over him for the way the man touches you so closely and ire takes hold of him for it looks like he is about ro rape you. Gojo knocks him instantly out, perhaps a bit too strong as blood starts seeping from his head. He quickly offers you the jacket he is wearing to cover your bare upper body with before he grabs your wrist and tells you that you'll come with him. You beg him to call an ambulance for the man before you come with him and Satoru is surprised to hear those words.

🩵​He almost doesn't want the man to receive help but then he snaps out of it and gives you his phone to call the ambulance. It is strange that a curse wants to help a human, especially since that human looked like he was about to sexually force himself on you and kill you at the same time. You are indeed very strange and he finds himself looking at you the entire time out of curiosity and since your beauty is very outstanding. He should kill you but he has already tried this and somehow you just appeared again so he has a feeling that it wouldn't work even if he would try again. He doesn't want to kill you for some reason though. Instead he brings you to his home and tells you that he wants to keep you in here until he has figured out what you are and what to do to you. You give him a silent nod before you ask him if there is anything you can do whilst he keeps you here and this is not what Gojo expected to hear. You really are a peculiar curse. He monitors you very closely the following days as you walk around the house to memorise the interior and every room and whe he realises that you seem to have a love for books, he ends up buying you entire shelves worth of them. The giddy grin you give him has his heart pounding.

🩵​You are well-read and seem to have existed for quite a long time already as far as Satoru can tell from the knowledge you share with him. As much joy as it gives him to see you happy, he starts feeling jealous that you spend so much time reading books. He wants attention, more attention than you already give him. It just isn't enough. It escalates very quickly when you one day ask him to wait until you have finished this book. Only a few pages are left yet somehow those words make Satoru snap as he snatches the book out of your hands and rips it apart. Blue eyes ablaze with agitation yet also a familiar look to you as he bends down so that he is on eye height with you. Hands grab your own harshly, squeezing them as he tells you in a low voice that he despises if you ignore him. You look into his gorgeous eyes, seemingly unfaced from the way he glowers at you before you carefully free one of your hands and reach tentavively out to touch his face. His Infinity is already deactivated, allowing you to touch his face. He lets out a satisfied hum as one of his hands grabs your one touching his cheeks, blue eyes gleaming as he looks at you.

🩵​His Infinity around you is mostly deactivated as he encourages you to touch him as much as he is already touching you. Your touches are warm and addictive and he seemingly can't get enough of them. Often you find yourself trapped beneath him, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. You sometimes asks him what he plans to do with you as he is a sorcerer and you are a curse yet he always shuts you up, mostly by kissing you to silence all of your sounds. He does know that technically he should find a way to exorcise you or to at least seal you away yet his whole body is filled with rage when he considers it. He has to keep you a secret from other sorcerers under all means necessary. Not only because of their demands but also because he fears that they would desire you too for your beauty and gentle nature. He notices that you never seem to protest or stop him whenever he becomes very touchy and as sick as that is, Satoru finds himself abusing this. Within a short time he is able to fully indulge in his desires as your nude body is pressed against his own, teasing you here and there as he claims you for himself. He has never seen someone more beautiful than you.

🩵​Satoru is almost drunk on you and every word and gesture you do as he is convinced that he would kill anyone who would try to take you away from him. Yet the willingness of yours to let him do whatever he wants with you soon turns into a festering jealousy as he starts wondering if you allowed all the people before him to do everything to you as well. He shouldn't care considering that your curse seems to make people naturally obsessed with you and that he isn't the first and most likely not the last one yet he has already fallen under your spell. His heart threatens to burst as he realises that he will fade whilst you will continue. He won't let anyone else have you after him! You are assaulted by him whilst you are changing clothes, a desperate look in those blue eyes as he begs you to tell him how he can murder you as he tells you about his wish to kill you when his time comes so that no one else will be able to have you after him. When you confess to him that you don't know how you can die, you see the anger and madness flaring up in his eyes as if he is about to attempt to murder you again then and there before he manages to regain his self-control and tells you in a sweet tone that he'll find a way.