#feralspent

“I’m here- I’m here, now” [just going to start off with this ahh] (✦) - @feralspent

He looked just as as the last time she's seen him. But her delirium always did. She got used to having him as company, one that only she was capable of seeing, intagible and inexistent to her tortures. Only hers to confide. He would even tell her whatever she wanted to hear from him, even what she was certain she would never listen come from him. It got her going. Sure, Higuchi was used to the pain. She had been beaten, burned, cut from her early age and her job just increased the range of injuries she was accustomed by now. She could barely feel minor injuries anymore. There were nothing compared to what she had been through. Still, that? It was too much. Not because of the gravity of her wounds, but because they have been inflicted all at once. Everything. Was there even an inch of skin that didn't hurt?

"You were surprisingly easy to get in contact with," Ango said, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Even for me it was a little too easy." [to Mori] . @feralspent .

          𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒  𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐃  𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘  𝐀𝐒  𝐇𝐄  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑  𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄  ;    sat  a  small  little  café,  Mori  looked  up  from  his  cup  of  coffee  to  stare  and  Sakaguchi  Ango.  Former  member  of  Port  Mafia,  one  of  his  favourites  too.  ❛        Oya,  oya,  if  it  isn't  Ango-kun~        ❜  he  spoke,  sultry  voice  taking  that  playful  lilt.  Ougai  remembered  how  scared  Ango  had  been  of  him  and  it  amused  him  greatly,  his  encounter  with  the  head  of  the  Special  Division  still  clear  in  his  mind,  poor  little  Ango  had  been  shaking  and  sweating  as  he  conducted  the  meeting  to  save  his  own  neck.  Adorable.

          The  young  man's  observations  didn't  go  unnoticed  by  Mori,  and  of  course  he  giggled,  kicking  his  feet  a  bit  under  the  table  like  an  excited  little  girl.    ❛        Was  it?  I  wonder  why...        ❜      He  pretended  to  think,  pout  taking  over  his  delicate  features.  And  then,  all  seemingly  innocent  and  playful  semblance  left  Mori's  face,  eyes  darkening  dangerously.  ❛        Sit,  Ango-kun.  Let's  have  a  chat,  for  old  time's  sake.      ❜  It  wasn't  an  invitation.  That  was  an  order.  Mori  hadn't  been  sitting  there  by  mistake,  he  had  a  proposition  to  make,  but  he  was  now  more  interested  as  to  why  Ango  had  been  looking  for  him.

Frankly, he was staring. Most people would consider it threatening on top of rude, but Akutagawa had known him long enough to decipher this particular interest in him as studying. He was so deep in trying to decipher what was wrong with him that when the guy actually spoke, Chuuya flinched in surprise before scowling to cover it up. "Yeah. What's wrong with you?"

Maybe that wasn't the best way to put it.

  Sigma was not a man who often felt anger. Even when he had been crushed beneath the heel of the world and been the lamb to the slaughter of human cruelty, he had not been one to grow a cold and vengeful heart. Merely shielded and endured every agony and heartbreak, every loss and betrayal. Even all these years later, he remained a man rarely experiencing anger.

   Except now it oozed from him like a monstrous red beast. No one could see it of course, but it beat in his chest like a second heart, he could hear his blood racing in his ears. It was always such a STRANGE, UNPLEASANT sensation to be caught in the coils of anger. But it twisted and writhed in his chest, burning him and muting the world other than the culprit.

   He remembered that face, a face from the beginning of his true memories, not the lies of memories he told the world and those who asked. He knew, he never forgot. Even if he wished, his memory refused to let go of anything no matter how big or small it was. He swallowed, straying to force anger down but it only seemed to worsen.

   Even in the throws of rage however, he immediately noticed a presence creeping closer to him, and sharp silver shifted to stare at the approaching figure. Who-? Oh, he knew that face. Fyodor had showed it to him before. (And that memory itself was another ache in his chest, different from the anger).  Ryūnosuke Akutagawa of the Port Mafia. He hadn’t kept too many tabs on the ADA or Port Mafia other than to AVOID them. There was no way to know who knew what, so he’d played it safe. 

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒔 , accepting. Judith tells @feralspent something they’ve always wanted to say to them !

A smile ! Then she offers a piece of her mind, an unsolicited exposure of her innermost thoughts. ❝ I'm jealous. ❞ She admits, lackluster of what should have been resentment, she isn't mad - no ! no ! no ! She is only utterly, despicably, JEALOUS. A mouthful of it, raw and naked. SHE WANTS SOMETHING FROM HIM.

「       @feralspent​ asked ― "Boop" Boss Aku does it in passing while he's looking over a memo.         」

         𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝚃 𝙰𝙺𝚄𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙰𝚆𝙰’𝚂 𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝙸𝙶𝙴𝚁 𝙻𝙰𝚉𝙸𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙴𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙰 𝚂𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳. he’s careful, a claw running down the blade slowly. not hard enough to make noise but atsushi hums clearly content. even when there was no need he enjoyed being close to akutagawa. why ? he can’t really explain, but it makes him feel better . . . as if he can watch akutagawa at all times. the silence is peaceful, not awkward in the slightest. being around one another so often they’d grown comfortable with silence long ago. but suddenly the boss’s hand lifts and a finger presses briefly to his nose. it causes the guard to blink, eyes raising from the blade in hand. 

        what . . . was that for ? but even atsushi knows better than the question the boss. it’s not like he minded . . . no, not at all. the boss could do what he pleased. but still there’s a hint of confusion on his face. lips press into a thin line as his eyes fall back on the blade in hand. it’s better not to question him. it’d only cause trouble.

Aku just eyes the beast with a look only he'd understand.

Nothing but genuine headpats for Rashomon