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☁️ immortal by design, there's rotten things left in me . . . no one here but me. ☁️ ind. sel. 𝘨𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶 of gege akutami's jjk. by chloe, est. march 2023. 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘥.

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i'm gonna archive and move 🤭

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i'm gonna archive and move 🤭

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does a lil zoomie, anyway i really enjoy how so far, like . . . the anime-only consensus after just the first episode is so, like remarking on how this objectively bright and cheerful and energetic OP / ED feel melancholic still when you know in the back of your head that this is all just a flashback and things don't stay this way, that these characters leave or die or lose the light in their eyes. and that nobody's really clinging onto the perspective of getou being a bad guy, that ppl are seeing how he was and loving who he is and wanting to know what happened and how we got to where we end up. anyway jjk good, beautiful adaptation, improves upon the source material in almost every way. love to look at it.

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their line of sight breaks like a blade had passed through fish wire, and gojou lowers his head, feeling the muscle pull, the protest in the stretch away from so many pangs of his pulse gone in a state of stiffness. maybe suguru'd guessed wrong after all - he wasn't unhappy with him. the phrase sank, foul sitting in an entirely stretched out size, near juvenile to think that'd sum up the singing stabs, the boiling heat brushing from his heart to the dry channel of his throat, he wouldn't be what'd fill in the empty slot of reprimanding sensei or faceless gaggle of law - making men, god fearing when the gods had unlaced shoes &. tangle - haired heads this close to the earth. ❝ . . . i don't have a righteous speech to bring down on your head right now, ❞ he says, a second try needed for the noise dying under a hard swallow, under the shifting of his weight once he'd stepped to his feet and crouched to the ground    kneeling near suguru, chin level to the caps of his knees. ❝ i always just left that up to you. i bet you'd have a mouthful for me, if the case were the other way around. sorry. ❞ sorry, ( i can't be for you what you've always been for me. ) hair settles, parts between brows and white lashes with the upward angle of gojou's head, seeking to stare up past the shield of suguru's caged hands &. resting his own against his knees where the fabric'd worn thinner in use, trying, seeing    clawing in silence for a modicum of credence to a suggested solution. like it were only as bad as leftovers saved for too many nights, like they could detox, could pat suguru down with a damp towel and send him to bed with bread and broth and nothing else, but. unfamiliar as the words fogging up from suguru's lips were, what'd rested beyond blood and bone was someone gojou'd know in a room of one thousand, one million. his eyes couldn't mistake the shape of his energy, and his soul couldn't argue it either.

coping . . . lying ? compartmentalizing, maybe. as logical as himself, hunting for ways to explain it all away, fragmented truths stitching themselves together to blanket over the entirety of exposed skin    small fry things shrunken in the razor - edged sweep of gojou's stare where it'd flickered, all like crushed watercolor, eyes dry and stinging as he eased himself back off his knees, hands trailing to trace the bones of suguru's arms up to his wrists &. jumping to brush over the twist of his hair / pausing, considering. and half handled, half urged with a puffed out ❝ scootch up a little, come on, don't let me fall, ❞ gojou eases him forward until he could fit himself in, burrowing a pocket of space for his own body behind suguru, sharing, angling. shuffling until comfort'd found a decent medium with his spine pressed back, breathing room enough to raise hands up and scratch the polished blunts of his nails down through the crown of dark hair where gojou'd picked the tie loose, thumb pressed at the nape of his neck, the knob of a spine risen beneath skin. doting the way he'd liked having done to himself, the way he'd done to an old stuffed toy before its dry stuffing had lost its glamour.

he didn't have a righteous word. didn't have a working compass beyond that of his twisting gut sense, hadn't woken up days after tasting the blood from his own body with some higher clarity, some holier than thou stance towards justice, life on earth, sanctity. the world was the world, and killing fushiguro hadn't been hard. he wouldn't lose peace. it'd been easy, it'd been easy killing him, and . . . maybe that was why. care was needed, a stopper to disrupt the flow, a second opinion to slow the flick from the hand of a god who could shed it all in an instant    it was easy to kill. ( and special grades were just . . . ) gojou pulls his lip between his teeth, wetting the dry skin. clearing his throat and mumbling ❝ we're running up your time. let's, just. just get some sleep for now. okay, sugu ? ❞ &. heavy fingers drifted down from the loose stream of his hair, cupping instead at his own elbows once gojou'd stooped closer, chest knocking against the backs of suguru's ribs, arms caging tight around his middle : hugging, indulging. hoping to just plant painful ideas like seeds in soil instead of having to say any of it, that he hadn't been able to meet suguru right away after haibara. had been too slow to do anything for riko, for kuroi. that things happened, things he himself might've prevented, might've helped. that no one person should expect to save everyone, not even in one fell swoop.

suguru , for once , feels it . he feels the chill that's suddenly come over the entire room , like a corpse was found . possibly the corpse of the person who once believed with all his heart and strength that jujutsu was for good rather than for evil , helpful compared to violence . & yet now , all he can imagine doing is nothing but that : violence . satoru's reaction to lean away brought suguru's eyes back to him , taunt as a muscle or a noose . he felt bad enough , but maybe it was for the better than satoru never understand what had happened while he was recovering from death . ( please don't give up on me . don't be afraid of me . i'd never hurt you . i'm not your monster . kill me if you want , but don't look so hurt . ) oh , how cruelly he'd treated even his fellow human beings , fushiguro toji , and left the shrine in such a state that suguru wasn't sure they'd be able to put it back together . no one came down there , after all . he felt shame though , under that gaze , like he was confessing as a child & being reprimanded for his tainted thoughts . that's what they were, after all : tainted , twisted into a monstrous amalgamation of what has happened over the past year . decrepit , twisted , insidious and malicious in intent . is it what he wanted to think , what he wanted to say to satoru ? never , he shakes his head in response ; no , he doesn't want to be thinking like this , he doesn't want to feel so helpless , so small . so rarely did those feelings arise , and only twice had they come to the surface ; one of those times being after everything was said and done with fushiguro . he was useless , but satoru had destroyed the opposition despite everything , had managed to get back up and defeat him , like a walking miracle . yet suguru . . . what did he do ? . . . nothing . maybe it was shock , maybe it was pain , but he couldn't even stand up . he had a chance , and he'd squandered it . a hand comes up to cover his face , shying away from their eyes , ashamed , and a little afraid . the only person who could hurt a strong person was another strong person .

❝ toru . . . something's wrong with me . something's been wrong with me . ❞ how did he even go about explaining it , what he was afraid was happening ? the curses he had been swallowing were now acidic , poisoning even his thoughts instead of just being satisfied in poisoning his stomach . ❝ of course i don't want to think like this . . . ! i know it's wrong , i know how i sound . i feel like i'm going crazy . the only thing i can think of is . . . maybe the rapid consumption of curses made my mental state deteriorate faster . . . ? . . . that's all i did without you around . to get stronger . . . to keep up with you . ❞ ( i was being left behind . so don't abandon me . don't leave me . ) a rainy evening in the middle of nowhere , it hit him while he stared down at the ball of condensed energy , the fact he hasn't seen satoru in weeks , and that since their last glance , he's done nothing but absorb these disgusting things . exorcised , ingested , exorcised , ingested , exorcised , ingested . absorbed all the dirty energy into his body because it was all he was useful for . ❝ . . . i don't want to kill people . i don't . so why're none of these thoughts going away ? ❞ ( trying to convince himself of his morals , his purpose , trying to reinforce a crumbling wall with pillars of sand that barely took shape nor remained in shape . he felt like his whole world was going up in flames , and he was useless to stop it . bit by bit , every ugly thing inside of suguru was coming to light & it was terrifying . )

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distantly, over too few hours to account for the calcified candied casing closing a fist around his calm - beating heart, he may've guessed it wouldn't matter. the outcome, it'd be a whatever thing, that their performative obligations would be met and they'd wash their hands of the ordeal with a tossed out hey, we tried ! whether it were addressed to yaga sensei's silenced opinions or tengen - sama's shriveled up husk. but in the breadth of the sharp grin splitting his face between two halves, gojou'd made a liar of his own disposition - it'd matter. amanai riko ceases to exists now and he'd have gone storming up and down hallways, kicking over rocks. complaining. passing off for a waste of time what'd had more in common with salt into paper cuts, ocean water in his eyes : small pains, the worst kind. the ones that ruin your day. laughter rocks him regardless, buzzes under his ribs with a hand rising across his face, teeth bared against his palm in passing to rake fingers through his hair, to toss it off his forehead &. look properly at her. the whole mess of her, right the way she'd been, picture - perfect accurate to memories kept laminated off a contingency hardly a day after the fact      stubborn about remembering the shape of the sun when it'd hung over their heads, the way the ocean'd smelled. an abrupt decision in the half hour's difference of where and when their own share of blood had pressed into the shape of footsteps over dirt.

he rights himself up, singular fluid motion with the bag emptied &. crumpling between his hands, cracking apart the little leftovers of what somber air he'd trudged into not five minutes earlier with the lift of his voice ( not an inside one, too loud, too childish ) ❝ y'never said thank you. automatic forfeit. but      ❞ fingers jump to bump up at the bottom of her wrist, urging it up, elevated and swaying with the shift of the mattress once he'd hopped to his feet in a scramble for some gauze and tape. ❝ stain the bed and we're both in trouble. ❞ the novelty sits unsaid : there'd be more grapes. more time. more . . . everything.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍  .    golden light pours through the halfway opened window  ,    casting an ethereal glow over pallid shades turned phosphorescent  .    perennial florets dot amidst the meadow alike a prismatic constellation  ,    yawning into maturity in gander of temporary bravura  .    those wildflowers sprout     ━━            an uncultivated variety  ,    growing freely without human intervention .    amanai admires them  ,    𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞  .    digits coil  ,    shape around the cotton sheets into fists  .   rummaging into our souls  ,    we often dig up something that ought to have lain unnoticed  .    this memorandum however is both a blessing    &.    curse  ,    for it holds the key she seeks  .    clusters of stars had burst to life behind her eyes  ,    a splitting ache fleeting in nature giving way to a relentless dark  ;     a brush of death  .   afore her head scattered as a morbid painting upon empty canvas  ,    𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚  .    a way out  .    a life offering a modicum of normalcy  .    thought desires of such communalities were not for her  ;    she had loved    &.    lost  ,    now ready to part with the people she loved so dearly  ,    of the world she cherished so much   .    no more loneliness  or sadness  .    but  ,    if given the chance  ,    amanai would have taken his hand  .    ❝     this type of destiny  .  .  .    i don’t want it  !     ❞   

in an outer display of rebellion  ,    she tears away the many tubes    &.    needles that were no doubt connected to her in name of safety  .    still her hearts feels heavy within the constraints of her chest  ,    𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞  .    silent tears dry upon the arc of her cheek  ,    and she swallows the coppery taste coating her mouth  . perhaps the encounter with death has made her unkind ; her worries for tengen were long spilled .    ❝    will you get in trouble for telling me all this  ?    no wait   ━━       you are already in trouble  ,    aren’t you  ?    for eating all my grapes  .    ❞    

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maladjusted gojo is actually so real. spoiled gojo born in a world in love with him right off the bat, didn't socially adjust so much as take a running start, never watching where he's going, touching what he wants and taking all he likes. gojo who never again reaches past the surface level once his spring is over, won't give more than generous flashes behind a mask with a smile stuck on, leveling with yuuta, momentary honesty for someone deserving of it, guiding megumi whose advancement is his treasured personal project, asking a favor from nanami and knowing the cost for cooperation. but gojo when things were an endless depth of truth and reciprocation, jealous gojo. whiny and poorly communicated. huffing and insisting he should get to stand outside with geto and shoko even if he doesn't smoke, even if he fidgets and complains and gets bored, can't stand not being included, feeling like he's missing out. wants to be a shining point of consideration in their minds, a person you can't live without, wants to be loved back.

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❝ 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙚 & 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 . 𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙩 , 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙨 . ❞

indie , selective , private & panfandom animanga multimuse featuring YUJI ITADORI & RYOMEN SUKUNA as studied & characterized by percy . ( 26 ) . trigger warning for topics of horror , terror , blood , gore & murder .

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day 53, i scratch the walls. i'm still not over gojo sitting on geto's dragon. it was cute. but also like says a lot without saying anything. neat.

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private. selective. singleship,  multiverse  blog  of  𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈  𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎  of  𝙹𝚄𝙹𝚄𝚃𝚂𝚄  𝙺𝙰𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙽. [  heavily  head  canon  and  canon  divergent  ,  branches  off  during  the  shibuya  incident. ]  content  will  contain  triggering warnings  such  as    :  violence  ,  massacre  and  nsfw. viewer  descrision  is  advised. cursed by kaine. 29.

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what are friends for

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kenny you dumb bitch

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an expression primed so ready to soak in anything reels back some, eyebrows that'd raised slip slackened, eyes deadened. waiting on the end of a cradled breath for the punchline to fall would've left him glued to his seat forever, sweetened strawberries turned to lead in his stomach, stones in a riverbed sitting wrong against the coming ebbs. if, if, everything tied to the flimsy swing of a shitty word and gojou leans back, removing himself from the pull of an orbit he'd done everything to strong arm himself into, any other day, any other night, wanting to ribbon - tie himself to suguru &. let their world recognize them as a singular thing sprouting by a shared definition. now, he sits back, away. stares through the clouds in the blue of his eyes at the one he'd have traded it all away for, the blood in purple veins and the sky where it'd been silver spoon fed between his teeth      he stares and thinks, for a beat : ❝ you'd force me to stop you, ❞ and it's breathed out thoughtlessly, the blank surface of his face cracks with a split of an incredulous smile, a last moment to wait, make this a joke, call me stupid for falling for it      the name in his throat squeezes, ❝ suguru. ❞ clawed out from around a sharp breath all prettied up to pass like a laugh. high. unsteady.

so that was it. and like a confession gojou hadn't meant to make, there was the line drawn in an instant. easy as breathing, the outer surface of all of suguru's steadfast influence ripped away to bear the stain, wine spill bruises like words he'd mocked, balled between sweaty hands, jujutsu exists to help the weak. or at least . . . couldn't exist just to annihilate them. just like that, the meaning shifts. the feeling that'd come fondly tied to an idea of running away with suguru fell limp like a balloon that'd lost its air, everything twisting &. tilting so far off center that it'd made his head start to spin, had his lashes rapidly flickering and a heavy hand jumping up to drag slow across his face. just like that, a small selfish crime into an instantaneous execution order. ( don't . . . do things that'll take you away from me. the thought sharpens, clarity in the idea with the blood pumping hot in his head, don't destroy us. ) ❝ is that what you want still ? ❞ reconciliation of the idea's difficult, burden big as the effort to roll his neck, to rip his hands from digging fingers into his face and swing a sharp stare back onto suguru    reconcile the boy with the words, a beloved thing stitched to something that didn't match, something he didn't recognize. something even the six eyes had been too preoccupied to notice. ❝ is that how it is, i'll wake up at night and you're looking for a reason to go ahead and let your curses run around killing people ? ❞

❝ . . . . ❞ a creepily similar feeling he's felt before struck up his spine ; the same kind of emotional vacancy in the aftermath of toji's massacre , where satoru turned to ask in a childish voice ; should we kill them ? suguru's response on that day had been that it would be a fruitless endeavor , so it was better to leave it alone . however , he's flipped and regretted the answer multple times since then , since they'd both been high on adrenaline , soaked in blood , viscera , guts . ( still , as suguru tried to think of how he wanted to explain this . . . he could feel satoru's six eyes on him , relentless , piercing him through like a butterfly in a collection , not allowing him to escape . wanting to know . . . but suguru wanted to know too . he'd wanted to know since that day a year back . )

❝ . . . there's not much else . because we left , there's not much else . i don't know if i would be able to say that if . . . we had stayed . ❞ spoken in an attempt to do damage control , to alleviate any concerns that satoru had done something to cause this disenchantment . talking with tsukumo must have strained his foundational beliefs more than he thought ; curses come from humans , so in order to create a curse - free world , he just needed to get rid of them completely . it'd be a good thing , wouldn't it ? he was no gojo satoru , but he was still special grade , he could take out a lot of humans if he wanted to . release curses , cause an international accident , wipe curses out of japan at least . god , this is exactly the problem . . . ! moral , good people didn't think like this ! GOOD people didn't think this way . did that mean geto suguru was a bad person ? had he already slipped ? the idea of that made him recoil , almost curling in on himself in the chair , positioning his arms defensively as if doing it would help : god was he already lost ? ❝ . . . a lot of things happened while you were busy . i didn't want to bring any of them to you . i mean , you're the strongest now . you didn't need me dumping more stressful things on to you for no reason . toru , haibara's dead now . like riko . he was younger than you and i . and curses , we know where they come from . i thought if i just . . . killed every non - sorcerer . . . maybe it'd never happen again . ❞ ( you lost to a monkey like me , who can't even use jujutsu ! suguru clenched his jaw , he recalls those words perfectly . another horrible memory of laying on the stone floor , looking at the lifeless glassy eyes of riko amani as red stains spread underneath her cheek , believing for a time he was the only survivor , that this monster had killed everyone and that he was next . the worst , absolute worst three minutes of his life , bar none . ) ❝ no more incidents like riko's , no more curses . hell , even you wouldn't have to work as hard as you do . why do we have to die for humans who don't even try to help us ? why do good people have to die while those . . . monkeys live their lives in blissful ignorance ? it's disgusting , it's not fair , but it could be , if I just . . . killed them all myself . i think if I had stayed at the school for much longer , i would have done something terrible like that . ❞

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pour one out for bestie robin ✨🙏

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whatever he'd gone fishing for casting out blind in the dark, to feel a bite had his smile easing small, teeth clicking closed behind a mouth gone quiet. a lucky stab, then. a distant suspicion that'd gone sprouting from seeds plucked from suguru's words back then      where tsukumo - san fit at the scene of the state of him, pale and stricken and rambling on like a potential singular disagreement was gonna spell the end for them, as if it ever could. listening, folding a leg up one at a time to slouch criss - crossed, thinking ( damn, wasn't that my bad ? i freaked out. clammed him up. didn't wanna talk about that guy. easy to forget what you don't mean to remember ) gojou cupped his palm over his mouth, gaze drifting in consideration, slowly starting ❝ not like i've never been unhappy with you before . . . when's that ever stopped you ? ❞ &. tipped to pillow his cheek to his palm. an urge for a centering, still the swaying feeling in so few words cracking open a chasm of something that'd gone bare of his own fingertips for so long      how bad, hadn't they brushed an apex already back then ? matched plum purple bruises about the worst, the gambles, the failures. the costs of doing business that'd greeted society's only special grades at the door.

even . . . if they hadn't really sat down and talked about it, even if a year'd passed since then already . . . even then. when'd their status quo start looking so shakable in suguru's eyes ? ❝ i      didn't think there was that much else, ❞ gojou blurts, words toppling out through the gaps of a painfully open expression &. the sunken height of himself straights up in his seat, reaching to swipe an arm through the space keeping them separated : unspoken, hey, hey, pay attention to me. look at me. stop being like this. ❝ did i fuck up ? something . . . happened, to you ? like on assignment or something ? i just thought someone'd fill me in if that were ever the case, and. you're strong ! i didn't think . . . ❞ ( didn't think he'd need to consider suguru. )

maybe coming here to rest was initially satoru's idea , but the tiredness had only hit geto properly when he entered the safety of the private room that was assigned to them . the way that gojo suddenly speaks up though leaves no question that the other had something to say ; maybe they should just invent a code word for serious matters ? something that didn't feel so damning , like they had their crimes dragged into a spotlight . or was that just him that felt that way ? ( it was like that one movie , given a chance to survive without dragging the one person who mattered anything to him down alongside him . choosing to freeze & drown in an endless abyss wasn't such a big deal when faced with those kinds of consequences . . . when the scale wavered , suguru was more than willing to let his partner stay to weigh it than risk overburdening . if someone was going to die , it was going to be him . there's no argument to be made . )

even if it's something bad ? ( would satoru be shocked to know that suguru had been contemplating a way out of this life for a while now , the permanent solution ? or that he was throwing himself into danger with the sliver of hope for getting killed so he didn't have to do it by his own hand ? would he be disgusted ? . . . well , satoru had already surprised him once , taking his initial confession so well . maybe , then , there was a chance that he'd take another just as well ? ) what did the word bad encompass ? suicide ? mass murder ? all of which he's already entertained to some degree . breath drawn , suguru rests his chin on his hand , elbow on the arm of the chair . it was easier to talk if he didn't look right at satoru , avoided the initial reaction that was certainly going to be terrible . ❝ . . . it might make you incredibly unhappy with me . ❞ it's a warning he decides to pose , a sort of red tape that satoru would have to agree to cutting first -- it's been forever , since he was able to speak freely , maybe a year or more by now . the pit in his stomach grew deeper , more barren at the idea of continuing to hide the fact that he was rapidly decreasing in purpose . . . and simply leaving the campus wasn't the miracle cure he thought it would be . fuck . of course it wasn't . nothing was ever that easy . ❝ . . . how bad , toru ? ❞

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just watched episode 1 !!!^-^

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