❛  Wall.   to  Pin  My  Muse  Against  A  Wall ( Yuki And Suguru, Perhaps ? )

stay out of trouble . (Gino @ Kogami!)

perhaps it’s the late hour making him charitable.

or maybe the common sentiment shared among enforcers - masaoka and kogami specifically, that gino ought to be kept on the sidelines of all that hides in the shadows. unlike their own hues, his can still be maintained, can strive for salvation. as for the rest of them, well, they’ve already become familiar with the robotic voice dialing central, the reply back unlocking the weapon’s potential to paralyzer, at the very least, and in the worst cases, at the darkest hour of their minds, there’s no other way out but having their guts rained on ther companions. gruesome, but that’s their reality, one that gino should never know.

smoke clouds the space between them, standing side by side, and it’s perhaps the familiar ambience, like how it’d been in the past, which sapped his ability to reason when reason was the wisest thing to do. and remain quiet, for certain.

‘ trouble is a broad word. ’ he swept a hand across the air, bracelet come to view, ‘ as far as i’m concerned, i’ve been navigating in trouble for a while now. ’

guess the joke didn’t land well, he thinks, catching a glimpse of gino’s face contorting in something akin to anger, disappointment, defiance all at once. and isn’t it a dangerous feat, that he’s able to come bare with his emotions in the blink of an eye? it’s a weakness in the eyes of a predator like kogami, someone who’s always on the hunt for something, a ghost, or a memory. for any other person, honesty is freedom. it’s a distraction to himself, to let his thoughts wander. he picks up where he left off, sensing the tension embroidered in the seconds that he let the pause drag on for too long, so he offers gino a smile, once their gazes are locked.

‘ i get what you mean. it’s not the first time you’ve mentioned it. not the first person, either. you’ll probably hate to hear it, but masaoka has been insistent about it, too, in his own way. ’ 

the more you chase after something, the further away from your own skin it drives you; it’s crossed his mind that whatever becomes of him, of his raw flesh and bones, it can’t be anything pretty. when he set on this path, he accepted whatever outcome resulted of it. doesn’t mean he won’t give anything less than a calculated performance, that he’s received the devil’s gesture and returned it in kind. 

how to tell gino this, and that, and every other thing that comes after? there, suspended in air, balconies away from the other offices, it feels almost as if they were standing at the edge of the world. kogami’s gaze drops momentarily, welcoming the vertigo. he feels the treacherous birth of a smile, mirthless, and whether it’s the will of the fall - primal desperation, or the absurdity of this, bitter flavor of vengeance, he isn’t sure. but he wanted to say it no matter what.

gino deserved that much.

‘ you’re asking too much of me. i can’t give this up, you’ve known it for a long time. but i can promise you this: when the time to take the leap comes, i won’t drag you down - you, or inspector tsunemori or masaoka; you name it. think me a fool, if that’ll give you peace. curse me all you want, i’ll accept it. ’ if this hunger will be the death of me, then so be it. @lustraveil

watch link click, we got the hat man

this week i'll be busy with comms so... replies will slow down orz

before  bed  kiss. 🧍🏾‍♂️ souma and mr geto sir.

it’s in bed that he feels the most restless.

like an earthquake, memories that he’d long since buried would resurface, the epicenter of which started with the familiar voices of old classmates and friends murmuring his name, in the dark, sometimes obtaining a physical form in the corner, sometimes as lingering touch on the set of his brows, ghostly as thin air. he rolls up on his bed and is greeted by the blurry vision of still curtains. summer’s embrace coated him in a layer of sweat, uncomfortable enough that lying down and still on his mattress does little to appease the thoughts swirling in his mind. 

it’s until he grasps at the strings of consciousness that he notices the body lying next to him, the soft breathing pressing at his sides as though cradling a new-born bird in hand, warm and fragile to the touch. the night sat still, eerily so. if a pin dropped, maybe souma and him would’ve been able to hear it echo in the quietness of the room.

“can’t sleep?” more like an observation than a question, suguru whispers from his position, his voice a hiss as though every syllable carried the weight of exhaustion as they left his lips. though this night is like any other, souma’s presence in his room is entirely new. not for the first time he’s overcome with urge to touch him, unsure whether the souma in front of him is corporeal or a midnight illusion, a haunting presence to torture his lonely soul.

or an escape.

suguru blinks weariness away, a single digit traces the sharp dip of souma’s nose, then down to his lips. there, his skin is greeted by the warmth of his shallow breathing. he remembered, then, like a flame flickering before it’s put out, the taste of those lips against his own. 

they’d been soft, feather-like, and bittersweet. it had none of the innocence he imagined, so foreign, and he remembered having to chase after the sensation, as though it eluded him, not out of fear but something else entirely. ‘have you been told’ he’d said in an undertone, burying his nose in the crook of his shoulder, lips pressed onto sun-kissed skin and into a thin smile, ‘that you’re like a scaredy cat.’

although he meant nothing bad by it, his words gained him a light reprimand, and the moment subdued into quietness and then into deep sleep. he wondered how long souma had lay awake, if he’d waited for suguru to open his eyes and pick up from they stopped - the conversation or the intimate exchange altogether. he glances at the clock on his bedside. it’s way past midnight.

“usually, people are scared of the dark.” the hand that touched souma’s face had moved down, two fingers waltzed across his arm and the dip of his waist, voice going down by a few octaves, “sorcerers aren’t the exception. i believe that there’s an irony in that. we’re born with the ability to stare into the dark, the blackest darkness you can imagine, and yet we can conjure a primal fear like that. if a darkness curse existed, i wonder if it would be something that can be exorcised. it’s rhetorical, you don’t have to answer.”

a pause. their gazes meet, gold and grey, the shades of a cloudy sky. though it’s too hot outside to bring their bodies closer, the proximity mirrors the feeling of spilled blood.

“are you afraid of the dark?”

@sukareo

UMETSUBA MY RELIGION 🙏🫶😭🩷

@lustraveil

"just wanted to hear your voice" actually means a lot.

back in the day i used to write mikami teru and light yagami and it would be a lie to say i don't miss doing it

“ never understood why you were such a book worm, but for the life of me, I can’t seem to put this one down. ” it’s a nasty habit of vein’s to touch everything in liu xiao’s dorm when he enters. he’s a collector of high class trinkets and designer goods. anyone with a keen eye would be attracted to all he’s got. this Shakespeare hardcover has his eye. “ you never told me why this one draws you in so much, guess one day I’ll know, ” crimson red eyes twinkle in humor. still so much he was learning about liu xiao. “ my heartbeat. you hear it, don’t you? what can you gather, from someone like me? ”  to lx 😏

“did you know, there are people who can lower their heartbeats to the minimum?” he says thoughtfully.

which wouldn’t be that much of a problem, he thinks, if they weren’t weaponized for warfare or spies. when vein made his way to him, liu xiao remained seated on the couch, his eyes falling briefly on the black tea at the table. he feels more than he sees the approach, vein’s silhouette distorted by the rippling surface of dark-tinted liquid. he doesn’t need to look up to know he’s smiling, all sharp teeth and confidence. he liked that about vein.

“you are faring well, if that’s what you’d like to hear.” praises are earned, he supposes, and vein has done more than enough for liu xiao to allow him this much. “manipulating heartbeats is not impossible, it can be done with training, but asking for a reading when you are prepared for it makes for poor evidence of self-control.”

when he looks up, his eyebrows raise in an apologetic gesture, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose and the brief connection between gazes holds up for as long as his finger taps lightly on his crossed legs, echoing the rhythm as he hears it: steadfast, in the beginning, but it picks up around the moment where vein’s attention becomes captured, two predators measuring each other from the limits of their territories. 

watching for a reaction, liu xiao smiles, “what your heart tells me right now is that you’re confident. you’re certain that i won’t notice you’ve been stalling. for what, that i cannot tell. you’ll have to do it yourself. what is that you want to say so badly that it’ll make you skim through shakespeare?”

@burntpa1ace

will be posting some drabbles i wrote on my old blog just to keep as writing sample for geto now that i've moved him here so don't mind me 🤪

please im begging connect me with more psycho pass blogs i am rotting in this corner