Summer Uncoils Memories, A Sleeping Python And Its Gaping Mouth Hovering In The Back Of His Mind.

(flirting) you look like you bruise really easily haha. i can smell fear btw

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

Who doesn’t need another chaos hot boy on their roster? I think you’d write a fun Nagumo.

Based off my blog, what other characters could you see me Roleplay as?

The people's princess omg 😭🫶 yessss actually I've considered writing him but I'd need to re read sakamoto days first so I can remember his speech manner... My tunnel vision made me absorb osaragi, gaku and takamura only

one of the most challenging things about kogami to portray in writing is the mental gymnastics going through his mind the moment someone questions him about the real motive behind his obsession with avenging sasayama and chasing Makishima because at one point it stops being about the pursuit of justice and more about the destruction of your distorted image in a mirror staring back at you and when the abyss is mentioned to conceptualize kogamis turmoil and descent into an unhealthy obsession it's less about the darkness of the act and more about seeing your likeness in someone else, the sense that that something you always felt was wrong in the world, the bell tolling in a dark forest is closer to you than you ever imagined and you can grasp it and it can graze you back but all you need to do is accept it and that feeling alone scares you disgusts you but more terrifying than anything is that it entices you, otherwise why else would it haunt you afterwards? Why would it follow? Why would you let it stay in the shape of an illusion? Why did you respond to its calling? But that's hard to portray in like 2 paragraphs without making kogami look insane.

kiss

why does my broke cousin get to date a black haired baddie and I don't? Why did he (suguru) leave me

❛ you’re a fucking nightmare. kiss me. ❜ (sugimoto @ ogata) let the rivalmance begin

during winter, when anglerfish was available, his mother cooked for a father that would never come.

in these periods of lucidness, she would always tell him the same “he will come, you see… i have to make his favorite food. it’s a long way from the north, so he will be hungry.”

he’d heard from her, too, about the relentless winter in hokkaido, of the mountains that surrounded his father’s base and he’d always imagined what it would be like to descend from a frozen land to the noticeably warmer weather of ibaraki. he imagined it would go like this: his father, the shining medals — his lieutenant general uniform pristine and ironed as he saw it in the bromide his mother kept atop her vanity, in the corner of their room. wrought in the finest metals, he would step inside, and he’d greet her, like lovers do in books, the stories he’s heard other children tell about their own parents. about the way their fathers kissed their mothers at the doorstep.

 and they would sit at the low-table, pouring his portion in their finest plates. would his father nod approvingly after tasting mother’s molten love in the nabe’s broth? or would he go about it silently, like ogata did? quiet enjoyment, because there’s no use saying these things, his mother barely spoke a word back. but maybe this time would be different. she’d be talkative, serene; she often reminded him of a butterfly. fragile and beautiful.

but he’d been around nine-years-old, and naive.

love did not exist. not as people painted it. it’s instinct, swirling egos, the necessity to have something that will bend beneath your palm at will. it’s vulnerability, and ogata abhors anything that puts him at a disadvantage. on some night, sugimto watches him, amber eyes possessing a quiet certainty about something that makes ogata’s stomach turn, an absolute belief that whatever it is that sugimoto sees, what he thinks he sees in ogata, is only but a projection of his own deluded fantasies.

ogata held sugimoto’s gaze, lips taut and his face a blank canvas. sugimoto’s lips taste of sake, of herbs; his scars are more vivid up close, as though slashed only moments prior, like they would bleed at any moment. he could feel the part that split sugimoto’s mouth in halves brush against his skin, humid, forcefully pressing forth, but ogata doesn’t budge. staring down sugimoto’s face, like he would do to a target through the lens of his type 30 arisaka.

what would his innards look like? if he shot sugimoto now, here, in the quiet of the wilderness, with the rest cramped up in the kotan like snakes in a pit, would that rouse any of them up? he could pretend they’d been attacked, that a spy from the 7th division followed their trail, right up here, and ogata had no other choice but to kill both.

load of bullshit, there’s no way that asirpa brat would believe it.

“afraid you’ll bleed?” he settles for this: in a swift movement, ogata’s hand clasps around sugimoto’s jaw, his thumb burying itself deep in the dent of sugimoto’s facial scars, and if he willed it, ogata could probably pluck one of his eyes out. sugimoto’s reflexes are quick, blood-shot adrenalin, an elbow to ogata’s ribs. that’s when his expressionless mask finally breaks, because he knows this, he knows anger, he knows what a starving beast looks like driven to a corner. ogata smiles, teeth showing through thinned lips. “i guess not.”

“quit playing, sugimoto, and get to what we came here for. i don’t know how long you’ll try to keep playing house, just don’t waste my time.”

you don't understand. i'm obsessed.

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?

Art by  AoiBara

Posted with Permission (reprint/edit and/or commercial use prohibited)