If You See Me Add Barou And Chigiri To My Muse List Mind Ur Business I'm Going Through That Bllk Era

did you really think this is the right thing to do ? ( @ geto w/ nagi and his soccer-based jujutsu that i haven’t fleshed out yet lets go 🙂‍↕️ )

‘ correctness is based on the whims of whoever stands at the top. usually, the strongest get to decide. ’ after all, it’s easy to fear things that one doesn’t understand.

that is how institutions are created.

that is how monsters are born.

suguru paces around the room, tatami creaking beneath the weight of each step. though nagi’s question would have garnered any other person a violent end, something about his words feels sincere in ways that suguru hadn’t seen since… well, since his last conversation with haibara. it makes him wary.

nagi seishiro is relaxed in ways he shouldn’t have been, languid when he should have been cautious. uncanny in his boldness, though not so far that suguru’s senses would call it a threat. suguru reasons it’s little wonder that nagi is loathed even amongst their allies, or the followers. the sound of his footsteps is obscured by the prayers coming from the other room. the smell of burning incense, of ashes; he wonders how longer he’ll be able to stand listening to their drifting voices before something in him collapses. 

suguru exhales a breath, watching nagi grow more comfortable in his position, bathed in the gentle midday light coming through the paper-thin walls. the look of innocence, treacherous in a way that he’s learned to discern.

‘ i can find a more creative way to pursue my goals, but i doubt it would be anything pretty, by anyone’s standards. uncooperative beasts are tamed. i don’t hope you understand what i intend with this. ’ the rational part of him knows that he should have ended this conversation before it even began - shouldn’t have humored this meeting in the first place. if he’d been anyone else. but when the bleary eyes of a newborn sorcerer look at him in that familiar way that he’d thought forgotten, impossible to mirror once more, suguru finds that can’t finish what he’s started.

he wonders if haibara - if anyone resents him for that.

these overlapping images are a headache. he lifts a hand, right from under his sleeve, signaling towards the open door. ‘ is that all you had to ask? you’ll have to forgive me, nagi. you see… i am a very busy man. ’

@trapshot

❛ you’ve broken me. all i can think about is you. ❜ (sugimoto at ogata)

a piece of you for every piece of me.

pain is what he feels first. like the first intake of breath at birth. second comes remembrance, the recollection of moments fluttering in repetition: the arrow, razor-sharp cuts on his face, the vacancy, sugimoto’s voice calling his name and grounding him to reality, to life. ogata’s chests heaves in a desperate attempt at regaining full consciousness and control of his body, limbs gone weak with misuse and the feverish haze blurring every corner keeps him nauseous enough to remain pressed to the makeshift bed.

his throat goes dry, voice rasp and low like sandpaper. “enough.” is all ogata manages to say.

there’s something… something odd in the words that made ogata’s hair stand on end. he’d felt this general unease before: bile accumulating in his mouth, the chill of a ghost in-passing, crawling through their feet. 

they’d faced the ruthless winter in Hokkaido, storms that devoured everything that crossed their path. rampaging wolves, ravenous, a wounded beast with a mouth covered in fangs. sugimoto isn’t so different from it. he’d sunk his teeth deep into flesh, rip apart anything that made him hungry enough, and in that manner, ogata could find a strange affinity for whatever this static was, between them. but anything beyond that mirroring ambition — for the gold, or the appetite for destruction —, turned every passing second into a reminder that he should’ve killed him, that he should’ve made sure that sugimoto wouldn’t come back and root himself in the back of his mind.

the warmth of sugimoto’s body half-pressed against him floods him with unnerving, pristine clarity: their proximity, the way silence seems so loud and piercing when all he can hear is the pounding in his head, sweat gone cold. 

he can smell sugimoto, the scent of blood and deer innards, the scent of a monster, the same as he is.

not this, what he’s pretending to be, what he’s pretending they can be as though the mere hint of normalcy can strip away every sin that keeps him awake and haunted. 

the asymmetry of sugimoto’s scar comes into clear view, air gone thick and heavy; ogata’s hand moves by reflex, wrenching sugimoto’s jaw away from his face, gaining him the opposite effect: sugimoto is wide awake, eyes flashing gold in the dark, arm pinning down ogata with as much ceremony as taking down cattle.

ogata laughs, mirthless, head thrown back and eye rolling back to his skull, delirium and exhaustion ebbing at the dregs of his consciousness.

“i said enough. i don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing, but creeping up on people in their sleep is foul play even for someone like you.”

words drag on sluggishly between rasps and morphine, what’s left of it in his system, weak. it’s not as threatened as it is pitiful, the mournful cry of a wounded animal. ogata attempts to focus his attention back on sugimoto’s scars, his amber eyes, the crease of his eyebrows drawn up in confusion. this is what he prefers, this is what he knows best. anger is easy, predictable. “we’re not in the trenches, i’m sure you can ask someone a little more lively to take care of your needs for you. unless this is the kind of thing you’re into.”

@lustraveil

Ghost of the strongest

Do what you think is right.

she's not dead , i can see her breathing . (Chrollo at Makima if you’re familiar with hxh!)

‘ are you familiar with blindness? ’ gaze inquisitive, never wavering. there’s no double intention in the topic chosen, though she finds the irony of it amusing enough to let the silence eat at the last syllables, her voice a lullaby in the empty space of the cathedral’s towers.

she moves away from the place where sword and arrow intended to pin her down — perhaps there’s something about buildings of this kind, always craving for a sacrifice. she notices a second scent, too, almost hidden by the soft cologne from his clothes. it’s barely noticeable, though desperately wanted to be seen, to be chased. makima’s head tilts to the side, spirals and his black voids meet in the middle. ‘ i’m talking about the essay. the author has long since passed away, sadly. but his work left an impression on me, when i first read it. i won’t bore you with the specifics, but i’d like to talk about the overlap in our situations. ’

the lights do little to help her, echoes satiate her curiosity and she calculates the proximity as she descends from the stairs, her gait slow and casting shadows, longer and longer the more her figure comes into view beneath the thin veil of the moonlight. ‘ you have correctly discerned that i wasn’t truly dead and by no stretch of the word. just like there is only one person who can see in a world of perpetual blank canvases for the rest of humanity. ’

‘ it’s an interesting work. the author died slowly from an incurable disease. ’ she dusts her clothes off, slowly braids her hair back, wipes the blood from her face. her attention never leaves him, and neither does his. ‘ disease is not something i know. or death. and it doesn’t seem like you do, either. can i know your name? ’

@lustraveil

adding to this I've been toying with the idea that he might be somewhere in the aroace spectrum, probably demisexual because what he values above everything is human connection, a bond, and although he has no preference for any gender, it doesn't mean he feels especially attracted to anybody beyond their ideals. For him to develop sexual appetite it'd necessitate a background, history together. He doesn't really do affairs or flings and his drive is practically dead because catching his interest takes a lot more than just interactions, he needs specific a specific spark of likeness (to a degree) and he's already a rarity in common society.

small musing but the way i write kogami he doesn't feel anything remotely romantic for akane, he simply respects her and the bond shared with her is that of a person who aside from makishima has managed to take a dive into his mind and figure out the inner machinations, though her approach is less damaging and there's mutual respect where with makishima there was violent impulses. anyway, kogami doesn't really have a preference and doesn't really think about romance in general, there's a lot going on in his head for it to be at the front of his mind.

🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.  (  nsfw.  as a reminder: your muse = sender and my muse = receiver.  add + reverse to reverse the action.  feel free to adjust to better fit your muses.  )

❛  you look absolutely irresistible right now.  ❜ ❛  there’s so many things i’d love to do to you.  ❜ ❛  it isn’t fair how much you turn me on.  ❜ ❛  i can’t stop thinking about you.  ❜ ❛  tell me what you want me to do.  ❜ ❛  do you want to take this somewhere more … private?  ❜ ❛  if you keep looking at me like that i don’t think i’ll be able to control myself any longer.  ❜ ❛  is this okay or do you want me to stop?  ❜ ❛  would it be wrong for me to kiss you?  ❜ ❛  i’ve noticed you’ve been staring at me this whole time.  ❜ ❛  why don’t you come a little closer?  ❜ ❛  the things i’d do to you if we weren’t out in public …  ❜ ❛  can you feel what you are doing to me?  ❜ ❛  i’ve got something really special planned for us.  ❜ ❛  we’ll see where the night will take us.  ❜ ❛  i’ve never felt such an instant connection with anyone else before.  ❜ ❛  you can do whatever you want to me.  ❜ ❛  it would be a shame to waste such a perfect opportunity.  ❜ ❛  i’ve always wanted to do this.  ❜ ❛  you’ve been teasing me for far too long. it’s my turn now.  ❜

[  WALL  ]  *  your muse pins my muse against the closest wall. [  ALMOST KISS  ]  *  my muse leans closer to your muse almost like they’re trying to initiate a kiss, only to pull away in the last second. [  TEASE  ]  *  my muse teases your muse either by touch or words or any other way that works for them. [  TUG  ]  *  your muse tugs my muse closer and wraps their arms around them. [  STRIPTEASE  ]  *  my muse gives your muse a show as they take off their clothes. [  LAPDANCE  ]  *  my muse gives your muse a lapdance. [  SECUDE  ]  *  my muse whispers sweet nothings to your muse. [  EYE CONTACT  ]  *  your muse gazes deeply into my muse’s eyes. [  LINGER  ]  *  your muse gives my muse lingering touches. [  STUCK  ]  *  our muses are stuck in a small broom closet together. [  BLUSH  ]  *  your muse makes my muse blush with their words. [  CLOSER  ]  *  my muse comes closer, invading more of your muses personal space. [  ACCIDENTAL BRUSH  ]  *  my muse touches your muse ( somewhere intimate ) on accident. [  PURPOSEFUL TOUCH  ]  *  my muse touches your muse ( somewhere intimate ) on purpose. [  FLIRT  ]  *  my muse flirts with your muse.

@cursedfell

consider this a small starter call.

skrch

a print of this is available!