ꜱᴜʙᴊᴜɢᴀᴛᴇᴅ | [ᴛᴏᴊɪ ᴢᴇɴ'ɪɴ 𝙭 ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ 𝙭 ᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜꜱ]

Promise

A/N: Guys I'm so sorry I'm posting this after such a long time, but I have a semi-good excuse for my lack of chapters, basically I'm pregnancy and my brain is mush. Hope you enjoy my ramblings regardless!

Toji did not stir.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably to wriggle herself from under his gargantuan body crushing hers, her debilitated muscles straining hopelessly against his tremendous weight. Gradually, she managed to ease into a less constricting position, one where Toji's head lay, deadweight, on her wasted abdomen. The man was unmitigatedly unconscious, bone-weary and near ignorant to everything that surrounded him, had it not been for his hand clamped down upon her shoulder.

Somehow, for reasons unknown of the human psyche, Y/N found the rhythmic haul of her captor's breath to be soothing to her crumbling nerves. He seemed so placid, almost docile in his cataleptic, motionless state.

Y/N found that heat seeped into her flesh. Wet. The clothing she wore, the embarrassingly revealing attire she donned, had begun to soak up the viscous stream of ichor, violently dark trails creeping of Toji's bleak skin.  Curious, her gaze peeled over to the wound, purulent, crying, weeping, trickles continuously oozing from the gaping slit, the sodden bandages misplaced and exposing it to the open air.

She pursed her lips, wondering if she could... or should touch it. She couldn't deny, not even in the intimacy of her inner unravelled mental recesses, the inexplicably strange compulsion to want to. 

Skeletal hands twitched in the galling lilac light that pierced the brume of the storm. It was like a transcendental calling, a primal pulse, a heavenly desire, to simply allow her fingers to circle his opening and push inside.

Carefully, she peeked at his face. Surveyed his expressions, crushed under the weight of physical debilitation. The behemoth of a man lying atop her should be dead in her experience and yet, in a miraculous resistance against the inevitable, he was still breathing.

He wouldn't feel a thing...

Sucking in a shaking, perishable breath, her fingers lothly slid forth under the spell of her own divinations, that push and pull to satisfy her absurd want to... to... to graze the open stripe of cursed flesh. 

So gently, delicate, with all the tenderness she could muster, her distal phalange circled the lapels of his open arm.

It felt slick and sticky to the touch, near scorching like a burnt offering, but there was more, hidden sensations that pertained to higher orders of esoteric bizarreness. She could feel it, the mephitic, ungodly resonance spreading through his sinews, a continuous throb destroying his regenerative cells. It was unlike anything she had perceived in another human being prior to this moment — nothing had ever held a sensation so vile to her, morbid, decadent like decay. A part from when she had cursed herself, that is.

It resisted her, seemingly repulsed by her intrusion, or perhaps simply fearful.

Forked lightning fluctuated once more over the barrier which encased them, carrying with it moans and howls from the raging curses below that boiled and frothed in the open seas. Y/N shivered at the jarring noises that penetrated the dome and were perhaps much closer to them than she wished to acknowledge. 

What was were curses?

Perhaps, after all, she was never oblivious to it - only she never had found a name. Thing without names were hard to place and understand, they became myth and legend and tortured the mind with the illusion of incomprehensibility.