Koseigu - Blog Posts

[ slap ] sender slaps receiver in the face ( gojo @ geto. make it hurt )

a shadow crosses his face, then, like clouds passing over the sun. he tastes blood numbing the back row of his teeth, he testes the joints, thumb and index finger pressed around his jaw. everything seems back place. save for the hair that sticks to his sweat-damped forehead, he’s the perfect image of nonchalance. suguru laughs only after he’s made stock of it, a shallow rumble, humorless. “did it make you feel better? i hope it did. there won’t be a second time.”

he could hear the flickering lights, electricity’s vibrations as though every lightbulb was close to give out at any moment and submerge them in total darkness. that would make it easy, should he opt to kill satoru here. but he figures he’d prefer watching it, make sure their eyes meet before one of them huffs out their last breath. the bandages around his knuckles are tight as they were from the beginning, satoru’s shirtless frame bathed in the dim lights and a perfect contrast to the concrete walls closing in around them, the longer their attention remained on each other. suguru’s sides are bruised, he can feel it as he swallows in air. not a ruptured rib but something else. as for his face… well, all he had left was the vague hope that it wouldn’t swell come morning.

“isn’t it a tragedy? that we couldn’t do this when we were younger.” he recalls in that moment how many times they’d come close to defeat one another. 

though the competition was a half-hearted attempt at showing off their prowess, the confrontation never escalated into anything worthy worrying about by the standers. for masamichi, however, it was the source of many headaches. looking back now, and their current positions, sizing each other up within the limits of their territories, blooded and dirty, anything from years past might as well have been a childish dream. it hurt, because deep down they wanted it to hurt. if that was satoru’s attempt - suguru’s own attempt at channeling misery elsewhere, the broken shards, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do once the feeling had been conveyed. the only thing he’s sure of, and the reason they’re here, exchanging blows, is that he wants satoru to look nowhere else. focus on me.

“try to get your memories back, satoru. when have you ever defeated me in hand-to-hand combat?” a sharp kick, a flip in the air, and his other heel connects with satoru’s jaw. “an eye for an eye.”

suddenly they’re seventeen again, his cocky grin and the raised fists taunting him, goading satoru into something harsher, because jumping head on to a challenge has always been his virtue and his biggest weakness. suguru laughed, again, the sound echoing in the vacant room in a way that the previous one hadn’t. suguru lures him in, flitting two fingers at satoru’s wide-eyed expression. “try even closer, satoru. i have yet to pay you back for the headlock from earlier.”

@koseigu

cheek  kiss. ( mei mei for getito )

“unprompted sweetness won’t garner any favors, will it? i thought we’d agreed not to overdo with it as to not build debt on either side.” he speaks idly, head leant into the petal-soft kiss and when the lips part, he almost misses it.

experience tells him something must be given in exchange, a trade between devil and sin-abiding witch. it doesn’t quite feel like it this time, so he watches carefully as her posture regains the usual siren-like leisure. suguru revels in the embers left behind, right above his cheek, where their skin touched. sweet, addicting, as any poison should be.

and then he laughs. unbridled, like he hasn’t done in a long while.

perhaps it’s the familiar perfume, the drunken haze of fine liquor, but he can’t entirely blame the sake in his cup when there’s barely more than one and a half in his system. it can only be mirth, genuine bliss at her company. he’s growing sentimental. “well, not that it will stop you.”

taking as much as she wanted, giving little back in return. that is the way things are, that’s the way they’d been since the first time words were exchanged between them. and a little more than that, too, but he doesn’t dwell on memories past midnight. suguru lowers his cup with a tud.

“any other sorcerer would’ve stated their business since entering the room. while i do enjoy the company, i’d rather not assume that my executioner has been changed on such short notice. you probably won’t believe it, but i don’t enjoy spilling blood from my old comrades. i try not to, if i can help it.”

@koseigu

i don't write with you because if i do i'll get so hard that i'll break my computer desk and i can't afford another one (all my figures are on there)

so we keep the milf locked until further notice got it (puts geto back in the basement)

beckon, sender beckons receiver closer with a finger. ( suku to kashimo )

foul play to be provoked like this.

though they never met in their original time, he’s heard enough tales of the calamity known as ryomen sukuna. he takes the gesture for what it is: a trap, sure to slice him by the neck if not rip him apart. he’d back away, avoid collision of any kind. his instinct tells him otherwise: he walks towards the man, mouth twisted in a scornful pout and his eyebrows drawn close.

‘ and what’s that supposed to mean? ’ he nods towards the hand that calls him, unsure what to make out of it. hands on his waist, kashimo glances around and finds no one else that might’ve been urged closer, too, so he scoffs. ‘ taking advantage of my thirst for your blood — it never occurred to me that it could be a two-way street. i’ve got to warn you: it’s not going to be easy. you’ll have to give me some of yours. ’

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zip, sender needs receiver's help to zip up the back of their dress. ( sho for mei )

‘ it’s a shame that mandatory regulation forbids us from dressing our best at all times. ’ she speaks above her shoulder, a single eye searching for the soft features that she likes most among her old classmates.

utahime did always favor shoko above everyone else. mei mei couldn’t find any fault in the hierarchy of sympathy and for all she cared, a reverse-curse user is far more valuable for their rareness than a couple of hot-headed men roaming about boasting strength and arrogance. sorcerers were short-lived, after all. still, shoko is a pleasant company, kinder when approached with coffee or cigarette in your pockets. ambition took on very amusing forms, she thinks.

she hears the zip slide up and tighten the silk around her neck, like a collar. if shoko agreed or not with her statement, she makes no more signal than an uncommitted hum and a pat on the back. such indifference! it made her heart pound, if only a little.

‘ stockings would suit you. they are comfortable, during winter. fashionable. a weapon, depending on the looker. ’ she glances at her reflection in the mirror, appraising. 

the dress is as pretty as its worth, weavened using the finest threads, with small details of silver that heightened its price by a million. mei mei turned her attention back to shoko, setting her braid aside as she approached and their faces came inches apart from each other. she says in a soft voice, ‘ how does it look? does it match my axe, or should i ask if they have it in black? ’

@koseigu