Though We Don't Know Much About Liu Xiao Part Of Me Thinks That "being Able To Hear People's Heart Beats"

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(?)

nobody asked but i tried to practice coloring with vein because i love his design

UMETSUBA MY RELIGION 🙏🫶😭🩷

long time no see, my son

mother?

❝ yeah, yeah ⸻ they called me in for this. ❞

leone's arms uncross, expression disgruntled. he hates doing jobs for the school, but money is money, as long as they're not expecting him to beat up a damned grade 1 or worse on his own. but, that's what contracts are for ⸻ covering his pathetic ass so that this grown adult can be chaperoned while he does his job.

sorcerers are usually capable of conducting their own investigations, but there's no denying that when leone's cursed technique is useful, it's useful.

still, he's decidedly glad to be such a pain in the ass to the school in turn. he's known @vzmky since his unemployed days of sitting on stoops and drinking himself into a spiraling stupor, and as much as he's actually come to like his company, a special grade companion means a ridiculous job.

❝ you still carry that lighter around ? pass it here, will ya ? apparently, i'm gonna need it. ❞

❛  what took you so long? this is a total disaster!  ❜ <3

‘ don’t know about that. ’ his confidence is contagious, if the way these parasitic curses still crawl up the walls looking for a bigger body to attach themselves to. he doesn’t let them go so far, not out of a sense of responsibility, no: the thing is he’d rather be doing anything else but this. there’s a kamen rider special on TV. the plants he swore to be taking care of could use some watering, for sure. unfinished games waited in his console.

anything else… 

small fries, they should learn not to waste space like that. Satoru chooses to humor Megumi, lightness in his step as he waves dismissively at the mess. ‘ you know what they say about art: it’s abstract, relative if you will. maybe I’m trying my hand at new hobbies. ever heard of self-expression? ’

a snap of his fingers and the last stroke on the canvas is done. it is indeed messy, but Megumi doesn’t need to know that. ‘ aaaand we’re done here. shall we go? you can thank your amazing teacher for finishing up the work so quickly. ’

❝  when there is greed, there is hope.  ❞ ( from manami <3 )

‘ men who live by the waterfall cease to hear it, ever heard of that phrase? ’ is what he offers, fingers idly skimming through the pages.

the monthly statements are a formality, mostly managed internally. numbers tell no lies — numbers are exact, constant, always true to what they represent, unlike the humans that arrange them in fine paper and leather folders. suguru gives a last glance at the paper and turns his attention back to her, ‘perhaps i’ve got playing the pious deity to these monkeys down to a fine art so well that i no longer hear them complaining about their diminishing shares. ’

the view outside is painted in dull oranges, perfectly content with being swallowed by the quick-spilling dark of the night. there’s always been a mean air about her, too. as if cut by the same razor, their sharp edges complemented each other in funny ways. the carpet snaps shut in his hand, back pressed lightly against the windowsill.

‘ well, diminishing is too generous. they weren’t getting any more than what they deserved as creatures at the bottom of the food chain. scavengers like them did always make for greedy little things, and this cult is run precisely because their ambitious bellies are filled with misguided faith. so on. ’

‘ it’s rare for you to point it out in that way, however. ’ suguru’s gaze is bold and unflinching, peering up from beneath the veil of dark bangs and shadowed by the setting sun. it’s in that moment that all truth is stripped bare, he thinks, because the otherworldliness of the room pushes him further into honest curiosity: ‘ am i thinking too much, manami? ’

@koseigu

“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

These two should have more canon interactions just saying 👀

- Ep 52