𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄    (a  series

texting prompts.

not requested but there's something about a text thread, isn't there? anyway, these are a mixed bucket, i'll deffo post more of these, but for now, here you go, bon appetit, and if you wanna make them texts to a wrong number?? all the better! just make it clear for the person receiving it!

( sms ) : hey! is this [WRONG NAME] from the club last night?

( sms ) : wait right there, i'm on my way

( sms ) : sorry, who is this?

( sms ) : so... last night was fun.

( sms ) : can i come over?

( sms ) : did i leave my underwear at your place last night?

( sms ) : i am having the WORST / BEST day!!

( sms ) : we need to talk.

( sms ) : i'm in. whatever it is you're planning, i'm in.

( sms ) : you awake?

( sms ) : i miss you.

( sms ) : i'm sorry.

( sms ) : wanna hang out later?

( sms ) : it's honestly insane how much i love you.

( sms ) : i'm worried about you.

( sms ) : please don't say i told you so...

( sms ) : you know how you totally adore me?

( sms ) : got any plans tonight?

( sms ) : i know it's three am but i got donuts and i'm outside.

( sms ) : i'm outside. come on. we're going out.

( sms ) : i'm boooooooooored.

( sms ) : i can't sleep.

( sms ) : i know it's late, but... would you like to go for a walk with me?

( sms ) : where are you?

( sms ) : i love you.

( sms ) : are you really okay?

( sms ) : please don't shut me out. i can tell when something's bothering you.

( sms ) : can you come pick me up please?

( sms ) : this date is a total disaster. can you call me with a fake emergency?

( sms ) : why have you been acting so weird lately?

( sms ) : you know you can tell me anything, right?

( sms ) : not to sound like a tv trope, but i need a plus one for a wedding this weekend. you in?

( sms ) : wanna do fake proposals at fancy restaurants for free food?

( sms ) : wanna go on vacation together?

( sms ) : i got arrested and it's a hilarious story but i really need you to come bail me out first.

( sms ) : what the hell happened last night?

( sms ) : i don't wanna be alone tonight. can i stay at your place?

( sms ) : i got a code red situation.

( sms ) : what's shakin, bacon?

( sms ) : what should i have for dinner tonight?

( sms ) : it's so boring when you're not around.

( sms ) : so... the drunk voicemails i left you last night... you totally listened to them, didn't you.

( sms ) : i love you but if you ever eat my bagel bites again...

( sms ) : wanna go out tonight?

ALIEN STAGE - Ivan -

“I can’t reach you, so I imagine alone” [Black Sorrow]

it didn’t take a strategist to recognize the advantage presented to their forces. 

the thought had been nagging at him since then, since his eyes laid on the digital shape of the ghost he’d chased for so long. kogami hardly notices the abstract sort of anger that drifts from his grip as an afterthought, subdued as it eases through the quiet of the shared space: “it’ll only be makishima’s grave.”

if only that were true.

he’d lament for the lack of action and pursuit, but he knew better than to rush the persecution. makishima is meticulous, clever, has a tendency for the theatrics and whatnot. making a halfhearted attempt at identifying his whereabouts would cost them more than just kogami’s life or an enforcer’s badge. it’s unfair for anyone else involved, for makishima to be the source of many headaches.

“figured i’d let you know, in case you thought this was going anywhere different.” his attempt at a lighthearted joke isn’t well-received, if the glare flashed in his direction is any indicator.

“i thought we weren’t doing this again.” kogami says, though he knew his words couldn’t possibly be convincing with the festering sickness inside of him, forgotten some days while others were so painfully acute he can barely stand it. time and stubbornness are the only things that numbed him to the painful sense of awareness that he’s no more different than a hungry beast and prey dangling on the limits of his territory. kogami hated himself for it. he hated himself now, too, for mercilessly rubbing salt into old wounds.

talk about selfishness.

“guess i don’t listen.”

kogami’s hand retrieve a second cigarette, caging it between sharp teeth. a lover’s kiss. as if nicotine still needed an invitation. “i don’t know what else to say to that. you’ve got me, gino. it might be my own foolishness which drives me right into the wolf’s den, but at the very least i can say that any progress that’s created a window for me to pass through and bring me one step closer to where i want to be couldn’t have been possible solely with my own efforts.”

he’d tried to keep his voice even; to give off a facade of level-headedness and sensibiliity that he’d tried to maintain since the confirmation of makishima’s existence, but as he swallows coarsely and a bitter aftertaste coats his tongue, kogami thinks that perhaps this hunt, makishima, whatever it is that he’s mapping out across the terrain’s of sybil’s jurisdiction might be driving him a little fucking insane. stiffness sets into his knuckles again, fingers clasped around the lighter. it takes him another second to finally ignite the flame, hues clinging to his features like molten gold. without sparing a second thought, and perhaps testing what’s left of his luck, kogami’s shoe taps lightly at ginoza’s side, for old times’ sake.

“liven up. you can start by punching me in the face if you see me derail too far from the path and be done with it.”

his jaw continues to tighten as he listens, the frustration clearly building. despite that, he does his best to mask it. the words don't seem to strike the chord Kogami might have intended. Part of him can appreciate the vulnerability, but there's a much stronger, overwhelming part of him that still only sees and hears utter betrayal.

"You're sorry," his tone biting as he turns to face him, "do you even understand what that means anymore? or is it just something you say when you know you've gone too far?"

there's a pause, his lips pressing into a thin line as if debating whether or not to even bother continuing. was he worth it? the words are already there, bubbling beneath the surface, ready to spill out. clearly, he's worth it. he exhales sharper, trying to regain some sense of control over the emotions tightening in his chest.

"You speak of Sasayama like his ghost is the only one in the story." his tone sharper, more pointed. "Like the rest of us don't have our own burdens to carry." wasn't that the point? Life being a constant cycle of suffering, and continuing to persevere? "But the difference between you and me, Kogami, is that I'm still trying to make something of this life. While you–" he has to refrain, as the emphasis is with a raised tone, "you're stuck in the past, chasing a memory, a history you can't change. You keep telling yourself this is the only way forward."

much like the story, Moby Dick – like Captain Ahab and his obsessive pursuits.. and if tale goes to show... the consequences of obsesion and the fine line between justice and revenge never end well for the martyr. "but, it's not forward, is it?" his voice wavers a moment, a crack once again, he has to contain himself. "I don't need your apologies. Sasayama's death doesn't give you the exclusive tight to a path of self-destruction."

he steps closer, the tension between them palpable now, "You think you're the only one who's lost someone?" he forces his composure back into place. he'd lost his father and thought of it every time he walked through this damned building. lost his best friend, in more ways than one. but he didn't let it consume. or , so he thinks, anyway.

he turns his head away, shaking it, shoulders taut. "I can't make you care about the people who are still here." him, namely. for a moment it seems like he might stop there, but he glances back at him. his features are suffused with a mix of anger, remorse, and resignation. "I'm tired of burying people who matter to me." he pause a beat. "Don't make me bury you, too."

// @einshi

@cursedfell

My Dark Disquite

❛ i'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that, sweetheart. ❜ to lx ❤️

vein had set something in motion. long before england, somewhere, like a miscalculation, the error flashing on the screen. liu xiao finds it challenging, to find a pattern in what’s unpredictable, because everything and everyone is prone to fall into place at one point. their singular meeting point is this: pain.

a dark flame pushes through, burns from within. vein’s hands hold him steady, his back feels wet where the wine spilled and perhaps there’s blood soaking into his clothes, but he doesn’t dare to wonder beyond that - his mind can’t move past that point, because vein’s hunger is the selfish kind, he doesn’t like it when his attention wanders elsewhere, so a hand quickly wrenches his face upward, eyes back on him.

look at me. his eyes tell.

not minutes ago, this table had been occupied by his henchmen. dangerous men, dressed in tight-pressed suits, tense as wooden dolls. no matter how many times they’d seen it, the vision of man eating man would always serve as the haunting reminder that whatever separated them from being on the plate was their boss’ own humor. changing weather.

“you fuck on the same table that you eat?” he’d never obsessed about this kind of details, letting out a soft chuckle when vein dismisses his words, wedges his thighs apart with his own weight and begins to move. “hah - i guess it’s no different.”

nothing but corruption, there’s no semblance of beauty to it, merely the pleasure of a hungry beast seeking for his own amusement, like he was toying with his prey. liu xiao feels himself pressing around vein, chest constricting. his gaze followed the direction of vein’s finger, coming closer to his face and burying itself inside his parted mouth, pushing in, his thumb roaming the flat of his wet tongue and back row of teeth, ‘lick them clean’ he’d said.

ah, he remembered, then, where that hand hand been, stroking both their erections until they were ready - until vein was ready to ram into him as he was now. liu xiao closed his mouth around the digit, palming at his forearm, tracing the tense muscles all the way up to vein’s shoulder, where he found the fresh wound of a bite mark, digging his nails deep and unkindly. his body is yanked back down across the table, then, feeling as though he’d been plunged into ice water, muscles going stiff as vein hit a particularly sensitive spot, gauging his reaction, smiling wide at the whine that rumbles through the fingers still exploring liu xiao’s half-closed mouth.

i'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that, sweetheart.

noticing his cue, liu xiao wrapped his legs around vein’s waist, a snake’s embrace that brought him even closer in, warmth against warmth, melting at the intersection. the fingers now coated in spit found their way south and began to stroke liu xiao in lethargic motions, keeping him suspended in air, desperate for release. he pulled vein down and into an open-mouthed kiss, sucking on his tongue. “don’t hold back on my behalf. not that you’ve ever done it before, have you?”

@burntpa1ace

@pastvisions @trapshot

it may be obvious by now but ulquiorra has never experienced any sort of attraction nor does he have an interest in others, he always runs cold and indifferent, his apathy to the world a tell-tale sign of what he represents which is death by emptiness. so anyway, though he's incapable of loving or wanting anything the way humans understand it, he does feel hunger, is prideful, the greed he feels is that resembling of beasts though he acts like he's separate from such primal instincts but at the end of the day he is a hollow through and through.

an important part about ogata's character is how much he actually loved his mother. for some reason it's a source of argument on certain spaces but i think the og work was clear enough: ogata never learned how to love, so his love is bound to hurt.

neglected as a kid as he was, his mother stopping talking to him at some point during his childhood and spending day and night submerged in her hallucinations and daydreaming of a man who would never come back for her, growing up in poverty and with no other contact than his elderly grandparents, ogata never truly learned how to display love, never even felt as though he received it.

so when he explained "...then one day i fed rat poison to her. i thought that if father truly loved her, he would at least come back to her funeral. but you never came." it's the logic of a kid who wants his mother to be happy, to at least meet the man she loved and so she can go back to her old self who used to sing lullabies to him.

in the end it didn't work.

fast forward years later and skipping the fact he killed his father, because that's a whole other topic, i think his dynamic with asirpa is another big example that he can't properly conceptualize love and often offers "affection" or shows that he "cares" in the same way a cat would bring dead birds or mice to your bed.

ogata shooting wilk is an example of it. wilk, a father whose intention was to send his young girl to lead a war and to her demise, ogata understood killing him as making a favor for her because he did kill his own father, and as he explains "i think patricide is taking a step forward into adulthood" in barato arc, his mind understand this killing as a blessing to her even though she doesn't see it that way.

and throughout the story ogata continously makes offerings like these, because it's logical, that's how it's always been for him, so why shouldn't it be that way for everyone else?

but it's during the bad omen arc - and when the images of the brother he shot during the siege in PA and the girl he's gradually growing fond of as a projection of his own dead brother - that he begins to realize "oh, maybe there IS something wrong with me after all" and he rejects the idea because it scares him, scares him more than anything that love has always existed and that his father could have loved him, could have loved his mother, he just chose not to. and that his mother could have also loved him and he couldn't see it. scares him that love had always been there but never for him.

it's easier to rule out the existence of a sentiment than to admit that he's never received it, that he remains unloved.

❛  wall.   to  pin  my  muse  against  a  wall ( yuki and suguru, perhaps ? )

@gokunoban // 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑰𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑴𝒀 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑰𝑹𝑬 .

his limbs flinch and his breath is caught in the narrow space between their mouths, like a spell or a curse he swallowed halfway through a dry throat. desperate, frantically looking for the exit - these weren’t the kisses of two lovers but two drowning bodies.

the smell of antiseptic fills his nostrils, giving him a sense of deja vu: half-eaten corpses, tears that have long since dried, blinking lights on the ceiling. time and chance has brought them to this place, though his mind stayed behind and that’s probably why her smell and the shape of her hips against his body feel all too familiar. sorrow is for the mourners. all those who become hollow can only pick stones and throw them into a well, waiting patiently for the bottomless darkness to greet them back. foreheads pressing, she’s the first to pull away.

suguru remembered, then, how much he likes her eyes.

brown, shaped like a pair of almonds ready to take a bite of. being looked at that way - like a case study and a pet - should anger him, make his stomach twist. hazed by the narcotics and swept by a current, logic forsakes him. the very core of his being is replaced by something else entirely and it’s warmer, sharper, heavier in his stomach. it’s mostly impulse what makes him search for a place around her waist, bring her closer to him. 

‘ came for a visit? or has my execution date moved closer? i wouldn’t mind being killed by you. ’ fingers tangle themselves between long strands of blonde hair, follow its course, a curtain that is lifted for the spectators,  ‘ red becomes you. ’

‘ dodge me then. ’ he stands in position, legs flexed and all spidery and the next thing nagumo knows is that he's under attack.

boop boop boop boop boop

Cue an exaggerated, immature dry heave as he's booped by @einshi . " Stop! I don't want to catch whatever is wrong with you. "