Toying Around With The Thought That Maybe Mukuro's Persistent, Looming Presence In The Plot Even After

🏔️ doodle

my take on makima is that she doesn't love, doesn't understand it, doesn't know how to, even if she'd tried, because she's been raised into compliance, apathy, the type needed for cold-blooded decision making the kind that is rampant in the government as seen through the lenses of csm manga and even before being a puppet of a kind she is also a demon and demons don't love, their hearts are graveyards, their selfishness and whims the cause of much grief and it's a constant in the story that even those who briefly dipped their feet into the mundane, came down and drowned or were ripped apart from it and returned to the never-ending cycle of death and rebirth. anyway, she doesn't love anything and she thinks she loves csm but love as she understands it is control, because she is conquest, she is the embodiment of the theft of agency and she revels in knowing everything beneath her is her property and although she yearns for an equal she doesn't want to let go of what constitutes her: dominance. and it's why at the end of it all, sincere love is what kills her, and she doesn't see it coming because she never cared to learn its smell, never cared to acknowledge it. because loving is giving away control.

my point being: makima doesn't love and she doesn't have anyone she loves, but she does find things cute just like she's developed fondness for her dogs. she will find something cute and in my honest opinion that will be quanxi(?)

had to come here to post this extremely Liu Xiao thing. and while we're at it let me tell you this is also Mukuro and Luka.

“i believe that you will find out soon enough.” if the little mice scrambling around the main building are anything to go by, or so he thinks dismissively.

through the winding vines and thick foliage he can sense the embers of a curse’s rage, the putrid smell that comes with it and which coats his senses, the closer their feet take them to its current position. perhaps satoru can sense it - no, he’s definitely capable of it, even beyond that, should his eyes focused on the task. so he finds the remark a tad bit petulant, for old time’s sake, maybe? well, he can be petty, if petty is what satoru wants.

“so a curse, then,” he decides, his eyes never leaving satoru’s face. fingers, half unfurled, rest with ease, folded under his robes. “a first grade.”

suguru looked at him properly now, standing only a stone-throw away from each other in the space offered by old trees. a bird flew along next to them, unburdened by the phantom thread tightening as seconds pass. they’re managing, for now, but surely it won’t last for eternity. there’s little to do, and there’s no other way towards the curse’s hideout that doesn’t lead him back to satoru. as it always has.

a sour taste floods through suguru’s mouth. though partly hidden by white gauze, suguru’s mind conjures the kind of expression that he imagines satoru’s making, the distinct frown, eyes blue and sharp like tidal waves. 

he doesn’t mention that satoru could’ve opted for teleportation, defying matter and any obstacle. 

he doesn’t mention that he, suguru, could’ve taken a different route, retrieved what he came here for and pretended that they weren’t who they were, always skirting around each other’s territories like ships at night.but it’s a loud secret, as they’d always had. “there’s no use, you should know. i can sense it just as well as you do.”

A third of Satoru expected to find Suguru out here. Another third hoped that he wouldn’t, yet the last third of him that still grappled with his loss hoped that he would. Seeing him meant that he was well – or, at least, well as one could say Suguru was given his usual state. He was alive in this foolishness and as much as Satoru hoped that for his sake that he’d change his mind, he knew that he was set in his ways and didn’t want to - couldn’t, for that matter - push him otherwise, as much as he recited the scene in his mind.

“Suguru.” Satoru greets him in turn, his voice guarded in an equally practiced manner. It'd taken a while to get to this point. Maybe if they'd come across each other sooner, Satoru might've sounded more vulnerable.

“I take you’re after a curse yourself.” He hasn’t found the curse yet, perhaps distracted by the presence of his old friend’s cursed energy made manifest. They must be chasing the same target if he's made note of it.

Satoru’s hands remain at his side, though, twitching, as if considering the idea of going through with the execution order that hadn't yet lifted on Suguru’s head… but they both know that Satoru could never pull it off, so it remains a mere suggestion in his mind that unpleasantly replays.

“You have a lot of nerve getting out,” Satoru remarks, remaining in place trying to maintain a casual stance and allowing Suguru to approach. But if there's anything predictable about Suguru, it's his audacity. It's the one thing that Satoru still finds himself admiring to this day.

“It’s not any of your business what I'm doing out here or what the curse is up to. Don't you have some kind of establishment to take care of?” Establishment, cult. Whatever it is that Suguru would call it. Satoru doesn't want to care, though he'd be lying to himself if he didn't find himself thinking about it – what Suguru was up to with it, how many curses and people he managed to rope in. All because Satoru let it get to that point. “Stay out of my way.” Despite these words, his delivery isn't as cold as he hoped it would be.

@einshi

chat, my cousin keeps bringing up my ex during family reunions, do i hit on his crush y/n

the 3 cinna horsemen of the apocalypse

Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me. - sherliam

he’d call this a poor excuse of a foxhunt, if he’d intended to hunt william at all.

what you are is chasing skirts, Mycroft had said, mistaking alliance for attraction: Irene — who is no more, had never been source of interest, much less temptation. but Mycroft had been right about one thing: he’d been bewitched, possessed by something unearthly and older than mankind. it festered up on his bones, left no trace of his original components. it’s the damnedest thing, really, to want something that eludes you, runs from your grasp. he’d seen it fall through his fingers like quicksand.

right now, it’s all entirely his. petty possessiveness, maybe, but he’s long since accepted that this is what william provoked in him: he brought out the madman in him, blood dripping into water, and the mixture had become an unholy union of good and bad. william may be a sinner of his own kind, and sherlock had chosen to play the role of his juror, butcher and the devil if he must. sherlock shifts in place, elbows placed languidly on his knees. from the bench, the city’s buildings almost look like bricks on the playground. william’s still quiet, as if waiting for his response.

“since the bridge, this is the most honest thing you’ve told me. excluding the confession from a moment’s ago, of course.” he jabs slightly at william’s pride, maybe payback for the scare of walking up into an empty room and messy sheets. satisfied by the remark, sherlock smoothly waltzes back into the next sentence, “you know exactly what i want. i’m betting a big coin that you’ve known for a long time, and still you denied me it above everything else. it’s late to ask me to hold back, knowing how far it’s taken me — us for that matter.”

a smirk escapes him, throwing a sideways glance at him. william’s hair glows under the sunlight, and though his face is partly scarred, none of the beauty that’d drawn him in from the start like a moth to a flame is marred. before he can stop himself, two fingers take a stand of gold-bathed hair, places it aside to take a long, good look of those features. yes, the face is a lure, and the mind behind it even more so. “it’s you.”

“what i want, i mean. it’s you, liam.”

@cursedfell

Hiiii Sexy Dm To Get Spoiled With Weekly Allowance.....

a business proposal without exact numbers? you've become negligent, Satoru.

Six fanarts, No.2: Asa & Yoru

the store had been adorned with plenty of different chocolates, arranged by colors or by price. blue is the color that suits Xia Fei most - it makes him think of the sea, its unpredictability, its whims and beauty. Liu Xiao picks a blue box, golden ribbon. He hands the box to Xia Fei as he rings the coffee he's ordered. No words exchanged besides thank you, bye. He doesn't really wait to confirm whether the gift is tossed to the garbage or accepted. In a sense, it's better that way.

unprompted. ╱ @einshi.

  there’s an effort to temper his impatience, holding back his frown from pulling any lower. with his arms crossed and burning golden eyes, he stares intensely at liu xiao. of course, he takes his sweet time, browsing chocolates in a high-end cafe that doubles as a chocolatier. a roll of his eyes. rich people. soft conversations and rows of confectionaries add to the calm atmosphere. but his voice certainly did not. “ couldn’t you have done this after? i have other places to be, ” a blatant lie, meeting with him was the last task on his agenda for the day, “ if you’re gonna keep me waiting, you can’t tell him i wasn’t playing nice with you. ” there’s a glimpse at the hand that chooses the sweets, but xia fei lets a sigh drag from his lips to make a point that he was on borrowed time. his time. time meant to be spent with himself after an exhausting day.

  gradually, his eyes wander, passively taking in his surroundings. the shop itself was far beyond maintained. despite playful decor to fit the valentine’s theme, the design echoed bridon’s aristocratic roots. a few portraits depicting these streets from centuries past, a plaque honouring the founder. nothing flashy, but there’s a tasteful touch of historic flare. perhaps he’ll stop by again on his own in the coming weeks.  

  “ —eh!? ” his distracted self is the receiver of a gift box. one he never asked for, or necessarily needed - or cared to get, for that matter. “ what is this?! ” he blurted the words without hesitation, causing a few curious glances his way. liu xiao briskly takes his leave from there, but xia fei isn’t done yet. “ hey! you can’t leave me here with this! ” the click of a phone camera drains his complexion pale. he turns, noting a few heads retreating and thumbs tapping away on phones. did they recognize him? oh no… “ liu xiao!! get back here! ” the entrance bell softly chimes as xia fei pushes past, hurrying after his troublesome client…