@cursedfell

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.

how many ppl do you think he can hide under his coat

watch link click, we got the hat man

✨HE IS SO PERFECT AND BEAUTIFUL✨

ordered a horror stories book online and it made me think that Geto doesn't have a favorite genre to read, he will read any book that piques his curiosity and finishes it whether he likes its contents or not, because he just has to finish what he started. it's after his deflection that he begins to be more selective of what he reads, completely discarding books that are popular among non-sorcerers, finding it annoying to have something in common with them as he continously tries to draw the line that separates them, a constant reminder of the position he chose to be in and to avoid any notion of sympathy born from their linked interest.

face, sender turns receiver's face towards them. ( geto & gojo )

pulling himself back to a standing position is the initial intent, only stopped by the firm hands clasped on each side of his face: garnering his attention requires less than this, but he supposes suguru wants to make a statement of it. hand seeks leverage, placed flatly on the desk as his body remains arched, waiting, unsure whether to take this as a challenge, a warning, or a third secret thing that only suguru seems to understand and perfectly eludes satoru's wondering eyes. he allows the other man the benefit of the doubt, waits it out, only to be surprised by a bold statement.

'quit it out.'

their back and forth had escalated into a drawn out argument — though not entirely one-sided, it's clear that suguru wants no part in a battle of moral judgement. his views are cemented, a sense of justice buoyed in the philosophy that hierarchy exists as a parachute for the unlucky bastards right down south in the grand scheme of things. satoru, on the other hand, believes it a conspiracy led by the beliefs that their existence is taken for granted, though he needn't explain the specifics to suguru. it's easier to face the fury head-on, bathe in it, because that's what his body and mind are familiar with. power is intoxicating, sweeter than honey. gojo's sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose, his right hand holding geto's wrist mirroring the amount of strength used to turn his around and which he unlocks from the grip with a jut of his chin.

he's met with a surge of remembrance then: retainers, old enough to butt shoulders with his own parents, of whom he barely remembered anything, only bits and pieces like the smell of jasmine coming from his mother's kimono, the unmistakable scent of wood and smoke from expensive tobacco in a pipe, signature of his father's presence, and nothing else. though his birth had elevated their position within the household, truth is that they weren't bearers of the eyes but him, and alone he stood during morning trainings, and on most nights, a pair of small, curious steps testing the boundaries of his own jurisdiction, how much he could twist the rope before it snapped. he's yet to feel the draw back of its taut line. in a sense, suguru represents the line he shouldn't cross, almond-tinted eyes hooked confidently in place, two curses measuring each other — a truth untold in that fox-like smile.

' feeling like playing substitute teacher? count me out of it. as you can see i'm a little busy right now, ' he guides suguru's attention towards his phone screen, where graphics remained static although 8-bit music played in a cacophony of robotic sounds, ' don't get me wrong, i'd love to play along but my tetris streak? oh, let me tell you how much it can't wait.'

satoru manages a determined expression, thinks about making a funny face, tongue out, clowning the tension in the air away, but decides he's not in his best behavior and he really meant it when he said the match couldn't wait, seconds ticking and signaling the approaching lock screen mode on his device. gaze darts back, fingers deftly picking up and rising his score. new-found clarity settles, making him speak loud enough to be heard, before he notices.

'oh by the way, have you been training after class? your hands have gotten rougher. girls will go mad, you player. '

@gokunoban

[ VISIT ]: sender goes to the receiver's house for a casual visit. oh no mr cult leader geto....gojo visiting

the dregs of cursed energy warn him first. 

second comes the overwhelming intensity of his presence, like the roar of a waterfall that splits sky and earth in halves. satoru carries it like it’s his nature, like he was born and raised for exactly this. blessed, in a way. flawlessly human, greedy. 

he feels the eyes on his back before satoru has fully stepped into the room, listless and uncaring for decorum. the tatami that should’ve given out under his weight and signaled of his approach remains static, free of contact and it’s obvious that satoru hasn’t deactivated limitless yet. suguru doesn’t turn around, hand idly bringing closer the flame to a candle, painting the room in an array of golden hues.

‘ i expect you to come by earlier. what’s the drawback? ’ he blows the match, smoke crawling up the air and diffusing close to the ceiling. he follows its trail for a millisecond, turning around to find satoru standing a couple strides away from him. suguru smiles at him, ‘ is someone following you? ’

he needn’t wait for a response, knowing any spy would’ve been taken care of before even approaching the boundaries of his temple. instead he covers the terrain, narrowing the space in-between, so close that he can sense the inviting warmth suspended in the atmosphere and something else, too, like sun-bathed skin, damp with sweat. his head tips slightly to the side, chin lifted up as he examines satoru’s face, in search of anything new. a few weeks worth of absence turns the mind into a swamp. it takes him only a moment to discern the signs of sleepless nights, albeit patched up with RCT. what does it say about him, that he can tell the lies apart from what is true, even after years of being on opposite sides?

he breathes an internal sigh of relief when satoru doesn’t mention it, pretends that he doesn’t notice the flash of concern in his frame though he waltzes smoothly through the surface, fingers tracing the hard lines of satoru’s jaw and collar-bone. 

‘ you look tired. ’ is all he offers.

it’s all satoru needs to hear, he supposes. for old times sake.

for a long time, they haven’t needed the other. waking up to the waning wonder that this is how it’s going to be for the rest of their remaining years on earth. though selfishness calls them back, swimming straight towards the hook. satoru’s arms unlace the knot of his gojo-kesa, silk and string coming loose, undone. the hiss of fabric follows until it’s all pooled on the floor. suguru’s eyebrows rise in wonder. ‘ ah - desperate, aren’t we? you were being followed, after all. you could’ve telported. the fewer ways they have to trace your movements, the better. why show them? ’

suguru devours the distance, step by torturously slow step, lips parting to whisper next to satoru’s ear, ‘ are you the jealous type? ’

@cursedfell

Someone save me from the things they do to me

this is still crazy thanks @dreamair

what happened to hello

[Character PV] Ranking No. 10 - Nice "A manifestation of the perfect hero as imagined by the people. He brings the elegance of a ballerino to all his battles, mesmerizing all who witness them."