#whiterbone

❛    COULD     YOU        ( @whiterbone )       PUT   ON   YOUR    WRIST - STRAP         [   intonation  elevates  throughout  a  menacing  glare  darted  at  the  shaman  ]         I    don’t    want    to    replace      o͟n͟c͟e͟ ͟m͟o͟r͟e͟      another    broken    T̲V̲      ❜        implausible,     a   contrasting   duo  externalizing   an      YIN  &  YANG     dynamism.         if    wasn't    for    his    bantering,       i͟m͟p͟l͟y͟i͟n͟g͟ ͟h͟e͟r͟ ͟d͟e͟f͟e͟a͟t͟,        Utahime    wouldn't    engage    in    any    pastime    with    Gojo.  

she looks around shiftily at first--worried someone might overhear the sacred information gojo has to say. convinced it's life changing information, she couldn't risk it falling into the wrong person's hands. the possible outcomes appeared in her head (destruction, chaos, ruin!). no, she had to take this seriously. power alone held the world in the balance of her hands in this moment. “   WHAT?! i knew it! i knew there was something wrong with them. evil, really!   ” 

he is fatigued, brought to his knees and chest skinned to show a broken heart seething.  he wants to die ,        TO FIND HIM AGAIN        so that he can remember what it was like to breathe and so he cuts his fingers down to the bones and leaves the blood for  mercy to remember him by.  he goes inside and he starts to undress .    glasses taken off and so is the  glamour , he is a man now nothing more and nothing less.   then goes the shirt and  it is then he feels the hands around his waist  and a small kiss against his neck.  it’s         SWEET BUT VENOMOUS  ,       delicate but a blade as well.  he wants to hide from it all but it holds him. half a quip on the other’s side , half  demanded from his own .  he wants to throw gojo to the floor to make him see the            way his insides still burn at yu’s passing ,        how they want his throat for never looking after either of them . and how no matter how much time goes by there is still                  A NASTY PART OF HIM THAT STILL WANTS GOJO.   and so he goes to turn the kiss to the lips , its  a hungry  thing and it wants to  command  and  so he pushes the other against a wall ,         all the space between them eaten down to burned faces.  

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━   ❛        ＊   is this funny to you gojo ?? like the world do i seem weak to you , not worth a call until it suits your whims and  not worth a remembrance because i failed you  then .   so you want to keep me like a dog raging and roaring , rabid and unwanted .  i won’t be him for you  -  i will not be geto since i was close to him.  i am myself and you should take that or just go .      ❜   ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━     he throws a fist at the side of gojo , wanting to hit  and wanting to rip into for everything  but     HE  KNOWS HE IS NOTHING  IN FRONT OF HIM .   and so he just wavers  there face contorted  and body  falling at his feet.

                                                                                                           ❝  i know .  ❞

if there was any guarantee in their existence, it was gojou satoru. it was him and his form.

       at the very end, he would stand there, open arms and eyes  --  bellowing out, as he always did.   that was the  assurance  that uzumiya hibiki always held, from childhood to adulthood.  (  from the moment they clutched onto dragonfly painted fabric, from between their bloodstained fingertips  -  from that moment, they always knew.  )  it’s a certainty, something so childish  ;  but they speak it without regard to reality.    that even if he did not grow old, maybe one day he would  --  but even then, he would always be there. one large tuft of white hair, poking out from a crowd, with eyes wider than the expanding horizon.

❝  it will be cold, satoru .  ❞  brisk. not anything that he should worry about.  ❝  take this .  ❞  it’s a quiet movement, as many of their actions were, but it guides the orange fabric from their shoulders off onto his own.  residual warmth  ;  where the visage  struggles  to display in turn.  ❝  i ask that you return it, unlike the other item of clothing i had last given to you .  ❞  ties were easy to replace. that specific haori  ...  was special, in a bizarre way, for even they did not truly realize the true spectrum of its value.    but they know it does not fool him. the reason for asking for it to be given back  -  it always was the same.

he turns quickly away from the                  FOOL ,             disenchanted by the blue-eyed heathen. he finds the fundamental error of their perceived friendship to be that the world required          gojo to be a god and him a pawn.        and thus he turns frigid , withdrawing  and looking for something to give the otherinstead of himself .   he is asking for peace  a known                 PIPE DREAM       in face of their work and living standards           and so he does not go too  close ,       let mister popular live in his bubble .         let him  be a       something when he himself would always be a nothing. 

disbelief  tugs  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  whenever  a  certain  friend  of  his  became  involved  things  only  seemed  to  complicate.  for  someone  who  was  more  than  content  to  stay  isolated  and  confined  until  the  time  came  for  his  own  expiration.  albeit,  it  would  appear  mi  kyong's  own  input  fell  into  the  abyss,  the  man  that  mirrored  him  would  merely  do  the  opposite  with  a  smug  grin  and  smile  that  even  made  devils  shiver.  what  a  terrifying  ally  you've  made.  ❛  what  has  you  so  excited  anyhow  gojo  ,  though  ,  that  always  spells  trouble.  ❜  tonally  lacking  any  sort  of  enthuasism  ,  even  mi  kyong  did  hold  the  same  caliber  to  match  gojo's  own  energy  (  perhaps  due  to  being  locked  up  for  so  long  )  but  isn't  that  just  a  fancy  way  of  saying  anti-social?