#ashestxashes

send me  ‘ hc ‘  + a word and i’ll write a headcanon about it regarding my character.

mahito isn't impervious to affection but affection is described as a liking or fondness of someone or something. it's another emotion that he does not quite understand or grasp and it's because of how he was created. there is no affection in hatred. it's literally the opposite. that isn't to say he can't feel or find affection in something. he's more likely to be affectionate toward animals than people. same goes for books and movies as well. he has a deep liking for those things.

when it comes to affection toward people... it's really not there. he doesn't like them. he's said one of the most disgusting things about humans was how many there were. there is no way in hell one could chalk that up to affection. if he does become affectionate toward a person, it's not true affection. it's definitely a form of manipulation. he will take a false liking to them and show them the care they might be lacking simply to use them.

now if someone showed affection to him? that would be a different story. he would be confused simply because he can't grasp the concept of someone liking him or finding a fondness for him. he wouldn't exactly hate it though either. affection is just a funny little feeling that he does not know what to do with or why people have it.

Sometimes he likes to stray from responsibilities for a bit. And out of all people, he knows Shoko is the most laid-back and amiable. He doesn't have to think about anything and just her presence is healing. The moment transports him into a serene space, a place of gradual restoration.

He mumbles a little, his glasses lightly becoming pushed up from his face resting on her. So he pushes them further over his head for the time being.

“That would require gettin’ up. And I don’t wanna, yet.”

The first knock he heard loud and clear. He wasn't doing anything but fester in bed after failed attempts to get some sleep. It had been a few nights of no shut eye, and he was exhausted. And all that exhaustion weights his body down, makes his limbs ache.

He also doesn't remember what was the last thing he ate, or when, if curses didn't count. But of course they didn't. They weren't exactly the nutrients his body needed — quite the entire opposite. He could feel the putrid nature of them rotting his insides, and sometimes he just wanted to be left alone to wither without anyone's scrutiny.

Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, the interloper would go away. Suguru squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, though it made no difference in the pitch darkness of the room. He curled up, tried to focus on anything else but the incessant knocking of his door, which wasn't really there, mind playing tricks on him again. Louder and louder it became until it was deafening, hammering against his skull, and all of a sudden it stopped at the sound of Shoko's voice.

Tattletale ? On what ? Was he not fulfilling his missions and doing all his work in timely manner ? Dutifully and dilligently as was expected of him ? He felt a flicker of anger ignite in him, lips pulling into a snarl in the middle of the darkness.

But... None of that was Shoko's fault. After a moment, he dragged himself up off his bed with a sigh and turned the light on before opening the door. Sunken eyes travelled down to meet Shoko's tired own, and further down when he noticed the cigarette in her hand. 

“..No, I knew it’d come ta bite me in the ass one day.. sooner r’later..” replied the large man as he looked up from his campfire. “..Sorry.. we met before?” he asked, not recognizing the stranger. Either his haze of a memory was not serving him well, or it was thanks to the dark that he could not properly make out their face and instantly place a name.

there was a low hum from him, his attention drifting over toward shoko, a curious look in his eyes. mahito's gaze held on her, a thousand different little questions swirling around, wanting to be asked as his feet moved him toward her. for the time being, there was no malicious intent, just a curiosity.

❝ humans will celebrate anything, won't they? ❞ it was rhetorical. anything to drink, party, have fun. but so would he— well just to have fun anyway though his idea of fun vastly differed from everyone else's.

mahito propped a hand against his hip as he watched the spectacular of the evening, the people gathering to cheer and countdown. disgusting really. what interested him though was the way the souls spoke of the people: vibrating, bright in color, happiness, and surprise too. he watched as people kissed, another thing he found interesting. he wondered if it held any significance or if they kissed just for the fun of the holiday.

he looked back at shoko, a brow raised for a second before grabbing her. he noted the surprise and shock as he pressed his lips against her, a bit rough. he nipped at her bottom lip, drawing a bit of blood as he lingered, the red coating his lips as he broke away. a thumb swiped over his lips, smearing the blood on his finger. ❝ not as exciting as you all make it out to be. ❞

@ashestxashes a demandé : 81﹕ sender  helps  receiver  [ dye / style ]  their  hair .

It was only after the day's mission, whilst taking a shower back at the campus, that Suguru realised he had something stuck in his hair.

It felt like a solid paste when he touched it blindly, and he had tried to push his fingers through it to crumble it apart, tug at it, dissolve it with warm water, but it just didn't give away.

He had encountered a curse that shot some weird sort of goop, and he wondered if maybe he had gotten some of it in his hair when exorcising it, and it had solidified during his way back.

After giving up his attempts in the shower, he had gone and tried again at the mirror. He turned his head to a side enough to try and see what it was, but he couldn't reach it. He pushed his comb through it, but hissed and grimaced as it getting stuck.

There really was no other way, was there...

That's how he had ended up in Shoko's room with one of Satoru's shirts around his neck and shoulders, waiting for her to find a sharp pair of scissors to take care of the problem at hand.

« Don't cut too much, or make it look weird, » he said. He was admittedly a little nervous, eyes moving around as he followed her fleeting about the room gathering whatever she needed.

« I mean it, Shoko. »

🌙  *  ―     𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒  @ashestxashes

[ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 ] ― sender blindfolds receiver

If one would ask Gojo why he changed to a blindfold, he won’t give an exact answer. He still wears glasses with pitch-black lenses. However, there is a difference. A cloth nicely wrapped around his eyes so that not even the slightest light can creep from the sides makes it more secure in a way. The overwhelming power of Six Eyes fatigues him over time, so he likes to cover his eyes to combat the drain on his stamina and energy.

He is seated so that Shoko can easily reach his head. His head is tilted back, much like the time in the past when they were hanging out at the basketball court. His eyelids become halfway closed upon sensing Shoko’s petite fingers enveloping the cloth around his face. The colorfulness of the world becomes akin to a dark void and he can only capture the infrared radiation emitted from a living being, object, or cursed energy in his sight and differentiate them all.

He’s been doing this on his own for a while. But there’s something comforting about letting his guard down for someone he trusts to do it for him instead.