[ VISIT ]: Sender Goes To The Receiver's House For A Casual Visit. Oh No Mr Cult Leader Geto....gojo

i'll only hurt you if you let me . / Uta @ Yomo

hurt, by definition, comes together with pain.

pain is familiar. pain is something that ghouls as species have known for longer than they’d remembered each other’s faces, what little they saw of them, when the masks were cast off. renji observes more than he speaks, notices the wounds and torn skin already patching itself together in a gruesome display of rank: back then, they’d been considered a dangerous threat to the CCG, or to the general public. 

humans. ordinary humans whose bodies broke and didn’t mend. 

bodies that did nothing similar to what uta’s system is beginning to try, under the influence of whatever it is that kept that clownish smile plastered on his face. excitement? seems likely.

he waits until the open tissue is all healed, black ink molten across a pale canvas. there’s a revelation in the way uta’s eyes reflect the dim moonlight. fluorescent signs sprout from the tall buildings, further narrowing the already reduced space in this back alley, cascading them in bright hues and deep contrasts, their shapes a pair of protruding anachronisms in the urban landscape. 

this privacy - the pause that follows feels loud enough to drown everything else: noise of artillery, debris moved around and across the asphalt, disaster and what comes with chaos. even the rattling heartbeat in his ribcage which hadn’t ceased to plague him since they first laid their fists onto each other sinks deep into oblivion. he picks up where uta left off, his voice returning to its usual listless baritone, “it won’t be pleasant, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

there’s childish amusement in this, in the thrills uta seeks. he’s never understood it, always drawing a blank when he tried to sympathize with it. what he knows, however, is rage. he’d tasted it on the roof of his mouth, even now, if he searched long for it. on the cusp of an old era, only uta and, perhaps itori, were unburdened by it, his baggage, his vengeful appetite. 

they’d cannibalized, and they’d probably done so much worse, sins that follow them each to the grave - but it’s not all there is to it. not all there is to uta and him. perhaps he simply wants to drain it all dry: his options, the reasoning, any word that can keep his friend from self-immolation. renji paces closer. 

“aren’t you cold?” he doesn’t know if uta misses him. renji’s never asked. part of him, a shallow part, believes that uta’s unselfconsciousness is indicator enough that he’d do well no matter renji’s stance in his circle. another part - a more selfish, boyish part that hadn’t entirely died out since their rooftoof talks, had mistaken these jabs and mockery for fondness, of a kind. so it often went. he exhales through his nostrils, sharp breeze cutting through loose strands of white hair. the scent of rain, drying blood, this; it’s all a grim reminder that anything could’ve gone wrong, had he not been sincere from the start.

“do you remember” renji asks, “the first time we met? it wasn’t much different than how we are now.” normally, teens outgrow their fixations. renji doesn’t think uta has dropped it entirely, but it’s still difficult to figure him out in a way that won’t piss renji off. even now, he feels annoyed. there’s time for the two of them to try and hurt the other. that entirely depends on how well uta fares from here on. a creature of terrible potential. renji lowers his knees until they’re touching the ground, hooks uta’s arm around his shoulder, working as an achor, and eases him back to his feet, eye to eye, just like it’d been a decade or so ago. 

“it was like this, too.” his lip twitches, the birth of a smile, one that he’d thought long lost. “you can walk, let’s go.”

@antinomos

SUGURUUUUUUUUUUUU

GOJO SATORU

you're embarrassing . you embarrass me . i'm embarrassed of you . (Gino @ Kogami)

‘ isn’t that the whole point of this? make fools of ourselves to drive the rats out of the den? if you’re so certain that there’s another, more efficient way then i suppose that i wasted a good bourbon. ’ 

kogami didn’t always nurse a glass in the company of untrustworthy men - of strangers for that matter. gino being around brings reassurance, so makes an exception for tonight and for the greater outcome of the hunt. an exception for gino. the man knows how to crawl deep into his skin, convince him and root up any uncertainty lingering in his system. kogami watches the crowd, the many faces partly blurred by a shower of golden lights, shadows cast like dark veils, the image of a funeral. uncanny.

‘ feels less like we’re the hunters here, more like we’re prey being watched from the depths of the forest, don’t you think? light up a fire in the hills and see the kind of predators that scramble their way to your position. the effect of a lighthouse during the storm is the most effective with sneaky bastards like himself. ’

a sip.

glass descends with a loud tud against the table, his other hand reaching out to mess up gino’s carefully brushed hair.

‘ keep your eyes open, gino. we’re in for a surprise, if my gut doesn’t fail me. ’

@lustraveil

"good luck taking care of yourself." // geto @ gojo, hidden inventory setting mayhaps

gojo satoru never says please . all the blessing of the heavens and six eyes to back it up , all that unbalanced source of energy on the tip of his fingers , all because simply ; gojo satoru never begs . he stands amidst the crowd with dull greyed eyes , stares with a clenched jaw as suguru's black eyes disappear through his smile . his head feels hot , he recognizes this , rage . his shoulder blades feel tense and he knows this too ─ lost , heavens he has no idea how to deal with this . suguru takes his silence as an answer and turns to leave . he manages to take a few steps before satoru is right behind him , a cold hand curled around suguru's arm . oversized shirt wrinkles under his tight grip , bare eyes catch suguru's . and he doesn't look angry anymore , not when he saw suguru is actually able to leave . ‘ suguru .. ‘ he's pathetic , he swallows and doesn't know what to say . no , satoru can't survive this one with a blank face and empty eyes ─ can't push his way through the world without him . it feels like being a star and burning , it feels like he's being pulled apart atom by atom . he licks his lips , his eyes were bare since this morning and he feels exhausted , he needs to eat a few plates of sweets before he can function properly and with acceptable sugar levels in his blood . ‘ we ─ let's sit and talk . burgers on me . ‘ black rings are deeper under his eyes , he feels like he's aged centuries . his hold loosens before he tries to stand straighter , his phone rings ; it's yaga , he turns it off and slips it back into his pocket . heart hammering in his chest . ‘ come on . sit . ‘ he even pulls the seat for him , a couple of chairs tucked under the table in front of mcdonald's . satoru leans over to dust the seat off with his palm , a hand that can't touch many things because everyone knows that once you become untouchable you're also unable to touch ; he blinks , with parted lips , almost aggressively does he gesture to the chair he's pulled for suguru .

* ( preacher's daughter. ) accepting

❛  is this what you wanted to see?  ❜ / also grimm to ulqui....

🐝  *  ―  𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑶𝑴 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑨 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺. // @chipen

he knew better than to taunt. but this is not taunting: it’s exploration, it’s mindplay, the sort of dynamics that only the espada found delight in, and while delight itself is not a source of pleasure and much less what he seeks, ulquiorra would be concealing the truth if he’d denied that seeing grimmjow this exposed, open and raw like fresh-cut meat didn’t gnaw at the corners of his mind with new-found curiosity.

‘ if i say yes, will it change anything? will it make you cover the scar again?... or maybe you will mirror shame as humans feel when their most vulnerable sides are exposed?  ’

arrancar flesh didn’t bend, hard like a carcass. even more difficult it is for it to scar, to leave behind traces of soul energy that isn’t your own — for grimmjow’s body to have patched itself up like molten stone on a crass surface, that must mean the boy drove him into a position where it was either stay and fight or early suicide. grimmjow is strong, so it ought to be the former.

there’s only a brief fire in his eye, like the sharp flutter of a candlelight before it’s blown out. his hand moves slowly, pointedly reaching its destination atop grimmjow’s bare chest, where skin meets tissue, muscle and whatever else their bodies are made of. cold, hardened — the quartz trees on the outside would bend beneath his touch, yet this body doesn’t.

ulquiorra glances up, surprised to find a vacancy of fury in his features. where there should be anger, there’s only an unwavering gaze thrown back at him. ulquiorra is patient, far too patient, and albeit only momentarily, ulquiorra has the sinking feeling that something is amiss, that the longer his fingers remain static it would only give grimmjow another reason to gloat, same as he always did, always expectant that ulquiorra will react in kind. ( he didn’t - on most occassions. )

he knows it’s inevitable, so his hand is withdrawn, back into his pockets.

‘ it’s pointless. i’m merely assessing the damage on lord aizen’s orders. ’

geese be like. log off tumblr. log off twitter. every half half hour ..... girl where i am supposed to go 😭

I promised this girl (geto) the world so idk where yall gonna live from now on but it can't be here

I miss him :(

ALIEN STAGE - Ivan -

“I can’t reach you, so I imagine alone” [Black Sorrow]

maybe the real kaisen was the sugurus we fumbled along the way