Bug And Ivy... I See You 😈

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.

maybe you've noticed already but i love writing villains, the deranged, the antagonists, the self-proclaimed masterminds falling into a pit of madness and self-destruction.

I'm so sorry, guys, but he IS hot.

This isn’t how you’re going to die! I won’t let you!

I’m so glad you’re okay, Ogata! I’m gonna fucking kill you!

→ Sugimoto and Ogata in Golden Kamuy chapters 188 and 309, written by Satoru Noda.

SHINYA 🧡

サイコパス: THE MOVIE (2015)

Dir. by: Naoyoshi Shiotani, Katsuyuki Motohiro

i'll only hurt you if you let me . / Uta @ Yomo

hurt, by definition, comes together with pain.

pain is familiar. pain is something that ghouls as species have known for longer than they’d remembered each other’s faces, what little they saw of them, when the masks were cast off. renji observes more than he speaks, notices the wounds and torn skin already patching itself together in a gruesome display of rank: back then, they’d been considered a dangerous threat to the CCG, or to the general public. 

humans. ordinary humans whose bodies broke and didn’t mend. 

bodies that did nothing similar to what uta’s system is beginning to try, under the influence of whatever it is that kept that clownish smile plastered on his face. excitement? seems likely.

he waits until the open tissue is all healed, black ink molten across a pale canvas. there’s a revelation in the way uta’s eyes reflect the dim moonlight. fluorescent signs sprout from the tall buildings, further narrowing the already reduced space in this back alley, cascading them in bright hues and deep contrasts, their shapes a pair of protruding anachronisms in the urban landscape. 

this privacy - the pause that follows feels loud enough to drown everything else: noise of artillery, debris moved around and across the asphalt, disaster and what comes with chaos. even the rattling heartbeat in his ribcage which hadn’t ceased to plague him since they first laid their fists onto each other sinks deep into oblivion. he picks up where uta left off, his voice returning to its usual listless baritone, “it won’t be pleasant, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

there’s childish amusement in this, in the thrills uta seeks. he’s never understood it, always drawing a blank when he tried to sympathize with it. what he knows, however, is rage. he’d tasted it on the roof of his mouth, even now, if he searched long for it. on the cusp of an old era, only uta and, perhaps itori, were unburdened by it, his baggage, his vengeful appetite. 

they’d cannibalized, and they’d probably done so much worse, sins that follow them each to the grave - but it’s not all there is to it. not all there is to uta and him. perhaps he simply wants to drain it all dry: his options, the reasoning, any word that can keep his friend from self-immolation. renji paces closer. 

“aren’t you cold?” he doesn’t know if uta misses him. renji’s never asked. part of him, a shallow part, believes that uta’s unselfconsciousness is indicator enough that he’d do well no matter renji’s stance in his circle. another part - a more selfish, boyish part that hadn’t entirely died out since their rooftoof talks, had mistaken these jabs and mockery for fondness, of a kind. so it often went. he exhales through his nostrils, sharp breeze cutting through loose strands of white hair. the scent of rain, drying blood, this; it’s all a grim reminder that anything could’ve gone wrong, had he not been sincere from the start.

“do you remember” renji asks, “the first time we met? it wasn’t much different than how we are now.” normally, teens outgrow their fixations. renji doesn’t think uta has dropped it entirely, but it’s still difficult to figure him out in a way that won’t piss renji off. even now, he feels annoyed. there’s time for the two of them to try and hurt the other. that entirely depends on how well uta fares from here on. a creature of terrible potential. renji lowers his knees until they’re touching the ground, hooks uta’s arm around his shoulder, working as an achor, and eases him back to his feet, eye to eye, just like it’d been a decade or so ago. 

“it was like this, too.” his lip twitches, the birth of a smile, one that he’d thought long lost. “you can walk, let’s go.”

@antinomos

i like getting cute morning texts like: I killed the man who looked at you.

❛ 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