Of Divine Nature

[doueegezh]

Independent Geto Suguru and Kenjaku for Gege Akutami's Jujutsu Kaisen.

" That's not what I'm asking. I thought you were against killing if there was no meaning to it!? " - " Ah, but there's a meaning. A significance, too. There's even a purpose to it. " - "No there isn't!!! You wanna make a world of shamans by killing every non-shaman...!? No fucking way that's gonna work! Trying dumb stuff that you know doesn't work... is as meaningless as it gets!!! " - "... . That's pretty arrogant. " - " What? " - " It's possible for you, right? Satoru. " ★ [ Carrd ]

[digenvez]

Hiatus - Notice:

Anyway, no surprise here [ also because I'm barely posting IC stuff ], imma be on Hiatus probably till the New Year. Gotta do some clean up over all of my blogs [ yes I have more than this one and Suguru, shocking ] and generally going to figure what I wanna do in the long run. Anyway! I hope everybody has a good holiday time and a Happy New Year!

[anvevennad-a]

@doueegezh - au tiiiime. :^)c

Light snow dusts the shrine and gardens outside, cold settling over the country in a whirl. There's no sound but the one of Suguru turning the pages of his book, quiet and calm, a peaceful moment befitting the weather. As for the kitsune himself, he's found himself a problem: it's freezing.

Why were the walls so thin ? How could the other stand this ? "Suguru." It's soft, almost whine-like, when he decides to break the silence between them. Clawed nails tightly dig into the front of Suguru's yukata, legs wrapped around him from behind and nose buried in his shoulder, trying to drain any slither of warmth he could claim. It's not enough. He's cold, miserable, and the snowfall's still going with no end in sight. Satoru's face looks up as a shiver racks body, indignant, pink lips forming a firm line. "I think my tails and ears might freeze off if this keeps up, which would be a crime. Imagine a kitsune without those. I'll be laughed outta the room." Another comment, more pointed. "I need warmth." Despite complaints, he doesn't make any effort to move away. Instead, a fluffy ear brushes against Suguru's cheek as he leans forward a little, trying to catch his attention.

"Your ancestor had something called a kotatsu when I last visited. He'd give me mochi and konpeitō as I read." Satoru doesn't know what became of the man after he left, nor did he particularly care. Humans didn't live long, rendered to ash and dust faster than he could blink; attachments were pointless when it came to their kind. Any tightening of the chest at the thought of Suguru dying is ignored, thoughts discarded the second they arise to trouble -- dwelling on them would do no good ( and yet. and yet ). "Aside from the fact you should do that too, where's your kotatsu ? You've gotta have one, right ? Could use it and watch the TV together." The moving pictures had caught him off guard, the world far different since his last visit 200 years ago. Now, a few months into his stay, he's adjusted. Enjoys what it has to offer. "You did say you wanted to watch another movie with me."

[doueegezh]

It was ever the same with the Kitsune. " Dramatic as always. " Soft were his words regardless, being little to not at all disturbed by the sudden intrusion upon his person, by the closeness well known and even expected, now that he had month already to get used to it. After all, it hadn't taken too long for this literal god to break any momentary boundaries he could have installed, walls broken down as swiftly in seconds, a polar opposite of the years and years it had taken to raise them. Not that he minded, if that were the case, the priest would have offered more and more scathing words of displeasure from the back of his throat now only laced with a chuckle. Freezing, hm? Well, it was getting colder outside, but nought to be bothered by---

---or so he thought. " I wonder how you would look without them, you've never shown me that form. " Teasing, teasing, just for amusement, the page turning over for one more time before he finally relents in their mutual game, sole for the subtlety of knowing that if he were to go a bit too far, he wouldn't hear the end of it. Thus looking over his shoulder, a smile rises on his lips, curling the end of it, mischievous yet simple, soft. Now there would just be the need to free himself from hold so demanding, nevertheless enjoyed all the same [ when had that happened? ] within the timespan that it would hold out. Seconds, minutes---? Nonetheless. " I do have one, I just don't always use it. " Yet following Satoru's whims would be an easy thing to fulfil, given the inclination that he wanted to move, pushing himself out of the other's hold [ at least if he would let him? ], to gather material and --- snacks, as it was wished to be something his ancestor would do.

" You sound like I neither feed you nor house you properly, so dramatic indeed. "

It's soft after all, the gentility of voice dropping down a warm, simmering whisper, dusky in its nature before he beckons his head for this 'deity' of sorts to follow [ sometimes he knows that others still question it? ]. " Come on then, I will prepare it for you. I think your wish was cocoa the last time you came around. And as for the movie. " Hand leisurely points towards a stack at the side, all various pieces of modern media he had picked out to entertain his illustrious guest with, differences in the genre just as much aligning to his entertainment as to what he believed Satoru would enjoy. Maybe he would pick out a horror movie as well, would be enlightening to perceive how he fared with that.

[doueegezh]

// ♪♪♪ ヽ(ˇ∀ˇ )ゞ now u have no excuse cause i found the login to cecil, u gotta bring back seph.

@furnezh |:

OOC: I just came home, spare me---

[doueegezh]

« Geto-sensei ! Do you hang toilet paper over or under ? QUICK. »

@wormb0i |:

What in the everloving---

" Doesn't that depend on your perception of what is 'over' or 'under'? " He's not going to play this game, at least not how it was 'expected', with his expression entirely pleasant, telling nothing about whatever would be in his mind [ Satoru probably set him up to that, right? ]. " If you perceive the loose end of the paper ready to be pulled as 'over', then the whole roll would be 'under'. If the last piece otherwise is to be seen as 'under', then the whole roll would be 'over'. " Completely wrong person to play this game with, Yuji, entirely wrong. " I assume your preference would play into this thought, if you want to touch the wall in pulling whatever you need or if you rather do not do so, but! Don't worry, the whole of the toilet paper will get dragged along the surface anyway. "

He still didn't answer? Oh, right.

" But alas, my answer would be 'over'. " And for what now?

[doueegezh]

" Fascinating. "

[jjks-dodo]

Happy Father’s day!

[doueegezh]

When these things happen, they always, decidedly, happen for a reason. No reaction without an action, boiling the emotions of - humans - down towards the core, towards the bare bones of what they are truly made of, like cooking the ingredients of a sauce long enough until they turn sticky. A residue of flavours meant to enhance the upcoming meal, nearly turned a disgusting icky shade of black, barely before burning if left too long to be turned over and over again. Losing thoughts and losing minds, turning the spoon left and then right - it's how looking at this curse had felt like. This creation of despair and anger and sadness and whatever unexplainable, disgusting emotions may drip from someone's lips wishing it all to be gone. At times, looking at them, he wondered if one specific feeling could inspire a specific feature, the acid in this case, maybe a lovely metaphor for spite, for hatred, ichor-filled lungs spewing threats and dangers--- didn't matter. He just wanted to leave and had no thought to listen to Satoru's incessant going on and on about what he already knew. 

" I just need fresh air. " Easy answer, easy solution, easy reply to no question brought forth, only demands to be made, requesting attention where he should not receive it. Always disliked stuffy places like this. Could not even explain what it was that drove him to breathe in deeper than necessary, to contort expression when he felt those come so near, grasp for him in a request for help. Should protect them, no? No. [ no? ] No. It's enough for him to sigh when finally leaving the hall's main attraction of the day behind, people cooing, stuck in awe, Satoru's performances all the more 'breathtaking' than they usually are supposed to be, breaking over his head like a clear wave as if Suguru wasn't able to hear them. Shouldn't. Didn't want to be able to hear them. When had it even begun to spiral that way? The mission was already months in the past yet the more and more he had to stare at - them. " You should maybe keep it together a bit. "   

It's not his fault. He knows it. It's not Satoru's fault. " Pulling too much attention from non-sorcerers is bad--- " @6cular / cont. 💕

[doueegezh]

What type of villain are you?

Then Let Me Be Evil

You never wanted to hurt anyone, but the world never gave you a choice. You did the best you could with what you had, but every innocent mistake you made was held against you when it counted, every crossroads led you down the wrong path no matter which way you went. No matter what you did, the odds were stacked against you. It wasn't fair, and you are sick and tired of being told what a monster you are for things out of your control. Well, fine. They want a monster? You'll give them a monster.

Tagged: @anvevennad 💕 Tagging: whoever wants to!!

[doueegezh]

[ What kind of scents/smells does Geto enjoy? ]

OOC: 💕

I do write about him as a practising Buddhist monk, therefore a lot of his Cult and a lot of his shows inside of his Cult have to do with rites and rituals from Vajrayana Buddhism, in which scent offerings and rituals have a high place. A lot of times, when it comes to any direction of faith in gods, specifically of big religions, offering scents is combined with great benefits: delighting deities, purifying evil, etc. 

And due to being a practitioner, Suguru grew fond of the smells and fragrances that would be used like that, purifying and 'cleansing' those that need it [ specifically because he sees non-sorcerers as monkeys who would need to be cleaned from all that stuck to them ], as well as the rooms and the auditorium where any rituals and sacrifices would take place, usually being embellished and purified by smoke from incense. That incense encompasses smells like nutmeg, camphor, sandalwood, and musk; the typical smells that are used in traditional Buddhist texts he would also use for his own Cult and tries to keep them as cleanly traditional as only possible. He does dabble in different forms, however, sometimes would switch it all up, and use Tibetan texts, where again we have sandalwood, but also juniper, agarwood, pine, and vetiver [ smells like dry grass on a warm day btw ]. 

In general, all of these cleansing, very pleasant, warm smells are his favourites. He got used to it due to his beliefs and has grown to love them over time. They calm him down, specifically when having to deal too much with 'humans', and they just remind him of the goal he has, of the path he took and travels on and that his life has a purpose, specifically when looking at his Cult family. 

When it comes to other people maybe? Aside from the listed above, he has a particular fondness for sweet and citrusy smells, a fact he won't explain if asked after but something he just enjoys when it comes to those around him, especially those he lets physically close enough to be able to catch their scent at all. Anything fresh and comforting, anything that reminds him of the past with those he loves also works particularly well. 

[diosaurr-deactivated20240629]

Sorry post again, had to fix a couple details

[doueegezh]

Sliiiiiiiiides up to him and places an arm around his shoulders. "How's the most beautiful man in the world ?~" :^)c (( U KNOW I HAD TO ))

@anvevennad :]

Flattery gets someone decidedly nowhere with him, eyes rolling in amused fashion when feeling the weight placed upon his shoulders, the closeness and warmth permeating his senses and the way these words would fall and are supposed to be taken, yet would likely not at all. 'Smooth' was that what he was trying to be? Sometimes makes him wonder if he had just seen these things in the movies he tended to blind his brain with or if this was something Satoru managed to conjure up on his own, thoughts like these enough to bring the beginning tilt of a smile to his lips. 

Should just shake him off, decidedly, tell him to stop these things [ they were busy after all? ] yet whatever split second it took for him to internally groan about the situation, one of Suguru's hands would raise. Would wrap around the wrist now loosely hanging over his shoulder, idling down in mild movements of Satoru's fingertips along his friend's attire, teasing gently in benign motions over his collarbone. Ridiculous guy, undoubtedly, breaking thoughts apart unbeknownst to him with the softest of gestures rippling to the forefront, like soap bubbles of shimmering brilliance ready to be popped. 

It's why his touch is idle. Gentle. Why thumb merely trailed along the inside of Satoru's wrist, fingers loosely wrapped around it to make sure he would not be able to escape if he wanted to; and knows that would not want to after all even if time were to call for it, were to demand for it, that bit of deliberate care and comfort shared in the joke made that very obviously was none [ they both know, didn't they? ], enough for a chuckle to rise from the back of his throat. Silly guy. " I don't know. " Chased away whatever had been meandering in the back of usually meant to be unoccupied thoughts in mindless hours whiled away between lessons and missions and all the in-between that was truly so tedious and tiresome. Chased what away? Ah, who knew! Nothing to talk about when he pulled gently on the arm still so perfectly poised around his shoulders, as if it always should be there, as if this had happened time and time before. 

It had, just not with the charming addition of words that Satoru should have swallowed. 

He does know that much when the smile worn by his friend had grown that bit larger, sharper. Contemplating the situation had taken mere heartbeats felt and traced beneath rolling motions, gently beating away in his grasp. And it was the same with the following question, meant to put an end to the other's shenanigans that already pulled on his nerves more often than not.

Infuriating guy, really: " How are you, Satoru~? "

[doueegezh]

( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) ( ͡• ͜ʖ ͡• )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

@anvevennad |:

(; ･`д･´) (╬ Ò ‸ Ó) （；¬＿¬)

[nerdreamer]

[digouezh]

@doueegezh - *squints*

It's persistent doubt that leads him down this corridor, memories of an earlier trip to the shops in search of something for dinner eating at him, uncertainty dogging his every step. These feelings. They were because of them, no ? Their endless chatter was pointless and loud, mere presence enough to sicken him as he browsed through items. Why did they exist ? If he cast his mind back, he could even picture those stupid mon-- non-sorcerers staring at him when he had made his purchases.

Yannick stops in his tracks. Fuck. When did he start thinking like this ? Those words, these thoughts, that revulsion simmering in his heart. Was that him now ? Did he believe in that ? Or has he simply spent too much time listening to his boyfriend ? Leaning against the wall outside his partner's room, he takes a moment to himself. Gods, his Grandparents. His parents. What would they say if they found out ? Killing like he had was one thing ( to protect, he tells himself. it was only to protect ), but this ? It's a step too far, views they were fervently against. Views he should be against too, having argued over them countless times with Suguru, trying to save those he could ( it never worked ). Yet it's changed without him realising, hasn't it ? He didn't do that anymore. Didn't even look away during those horrific sacrifices, carefully watching instead. Repeated the same terrible things as the others did, catching himself less and less often. It's too much. He needs to talk. Reaching for the door, he opens it and finds the other waiting.

With the way he sits, that gaze piercing through him, Yannick has to wonder if he's already aware of his disturbed thoughts. There's a moment of indecision, mind still clear enough to realise he might not come out of this the same. But in the end, it's brushed aside and swept under the rug; desperation makes you do stupid things at times ( an answer and direction are better than nothing ). Slumping into a nearby chair, fingers run through his hair as he mumbles. "-- Suguru. Can we talk for a moment ? Please." He's tired, so tired. Sleep hasn't come easy in weeks, evading him no matter how hard he chased it. "I have something on my mind. Multiple things, actually." Then, quieter. "... I think I need help."

[doueegezh]

Arguments seemingly never-ending, yet always would come to a close when Suguru had willed it, would not quite fall on deaf ears, but on the explanations rehearsed and rehashed so much that anybody who could see them from the outside might assume they could be sung with the highest tunes in the most gentle of voices. Mattered little if he were to think about it, it was easy to have his partner come around again with a few well-placed pacifications, winding him down from displeasure to see whatever are supposed to be 'non-sorcerers' as their true selves. Monkeys, nothing else. The rabble of weakness strewn about, ready to be carved up and placed in front of an altar, a sacrifice worthwhile, yet their discardable masses were worthless all the same. Sometimes he wonders how easy it would be to take this whole country and turn it inside out with his army. 

He had waited, indeed. Had known already that something was off, following the pathway of cursed energy torn and frayed, displeasure settled into the depth's oh his boyfriend's core after having run just a few errands. " Of course, you look a bit out of yourself, did something happen? " All words brought together in the request brought forth to just have someone listen. To offer answers to unasked questions, while turning and twisting in his place with the book in hand so slowly, nearly methodically, closed and placed on the side table. As if anything he ever did was just a picture-perfect presentation of a man that should not exist the way he was right now. He was willing to help out with whatever was needed, and had always been willing to chant the prayers of those who could not heed them, those who were still torn and forlorn, driven into following orders of those who should long have been dethroned. 

" Just tell me what you want to say, hm? " Soft in his hums. In his encouragement to unravel what had been kept so closely hidden and as a secret cradled in someone's heart, both hands closed above it, shielded in the middle of his palms. It's easy to assume; after all? - when was the last time they truly had their sing-song displeasure with each other upon his fair views and sudden loss of a reaction fitting towards it? When was - in fact - the last time? 

" Did they bother you? " --- or should I say do?

When was the last time? When, indeed, had been that remainder of one's old invasive thoughts be brushed off to not cling to the inside of his skull, scraped clean from the sticky substance of lies and falsehoods, strewn about by those that would want to have sorcerers bow at their feet, have them run around in circles and break them down, make them work for those that couldn't even see the unaccounted grandeur of their own wimpy emotions? When was the last time? " Did they say something? Sometimes I feel like their voices are just so grating on the ears, no matter how much they try and be pleasant to be around. " Worthless. Useless. Spineless. " Or is it something else? "

[doueegezh]

It's easy to spot him. Easy to know where one of his former friends would work, would move in and out of the befall of daily drivel picked up for himself and made his own for the desire to be as far away as possible from their 'current 'pleasant' society. It had been a chance moment to perceive the other sorcerer when leaving one of his shows, tentatively coming closer and closer and then meandering away again, sole for the fact that Suguru had been capable of hiding himself if only wanted [ but did he ever truly want? ]. It mattered little. Now to sit outside of the tall building, to wait and wait, till the night has already blanketed the city in the darkness of forgiveness, of forgetting. 

" Good evening, Kento. " Voice was as usual, soft as silk, similarly as out of the blue, no indication how he had been there, when he had come here, drowned out all the masking knowledge of his presence, not that the Strongest might have any lead to follow or any rat's tail to pursue through the winding maze of their city. He would, if he wanted to, they all were aware. 

" Might I whisk you away for a drink? My treat, of course, you seem like you might need it. "

An easy invitation. An easy means to refuse. Nothing past the pliability of the tempting possibility. He only sat here, with all the pleasantry able to muster for a fellow man broken; who had been done dirty by their world. He would never hate them, he could never hate them, even if his mind teetering upon the knowledge's edge that those coated in weakness were leading their society. Could proclaim different, wanted to fold them together into a beautiful and shining silver ball. Mental image fitting for who he was, wasn't it? " There's a bar a few streets over I frequent when I have the time. You might like it, I presume. " @shokutsus 💕

[doueegezh]

At times he had to wonder why he even agreed to these things: mindlessly wandering around in the presence of those that made his stomach convulse and his blood boil. If not keeping himself in check, he might exterminate every single one of these ants, grind them down to dust beneath his heel and smear them across shined tiles. Leave nothing more but splatters of blood and guts--- " Hm? Yes, if you want that one, you can have it. " --- it's an idle way of interacting with his surroundings chosen by force alone. A pleasant way of keeping up a facade where none would ever expect one to even exist, enjoyable conversations to be made, attention drawn to the twin girls running to and fro in picking out monkey-made oddities, burnt into the happenstance of realisation that this was something common to do - and it might have been some odd years ago. 

By now, it was just a chore. So why exactly had he agreed to it in the first place, now meandering the halls of a far too crowded and overrun furniture store, getting stopped here and there by the attempts of a seller or two, trying to approach and offer even more of the uselessness of garbage-made objects. It's what he thinks most of the time, with the way he barely turns his back, the way his eyes, piercing as they were, would be enough to drive off any unwanted attention past that one odd fool brave enough. Something in the whispers he was able to catch drenched in the allure of the proposition [ his looks? it was always so easy to discern what they wanted, wasn't it? ], of the attention, of the danger floating in wafts around him---

" Apologies, love. " Until a fog would lift the moment Yannick had driven them off yet once more. Had managed to scatter their worthless endeavours, and save their hides, even though he was still capable enough of keeping himself in check for however long their daughters would want to find this or that piece to embellish their rooms with. Exactly that was why they were here right now. When Mimiko and Nanako had been so adamant in wanting to refurbish their place in his apartment, who would he be to deny them? Pleads brought forth to come with so that he could give his input, input by any chance that would just lead to him agreeing to pay for it all [ he would need to call an associate later to take all the monkey residue off of it? ] as long as they were happy. Alas, he had denied one or two items, one being an exceedingly tacky throw with clashing colours of bright neon pink and muted greys. " I would think they give up if they are unable to come close and can't see why. Apparently not. " Xiuhcōātl had been eager to make sure that nobody could come near him. " I will repay you later, but also pick out whatever you like if there is something. I will pay. " Repayments in different forms will be once they are in private.  @digouezh 💕