#Mahito JJK
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billygoat26 · 2 days ago
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JJK characters make the silliest faces omg…
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And these are only a few- still trying to get that one split second frame of Sukuna’s basically troll face during his fight with Jogo lmao
Edit: not the Sukuna one I was going for but I got this Absolute Cinema from the Mahoraga fight
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darkspectorr · 2 days ago
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One idiot two idiot curse idiot blue idiot
(I love them so much holy sheet)
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papercute · 3 days ago
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jjk au where mahito is homoerotically obsessed with nanami as his “first” (the first jujutsu sorcerer he fought, of course), and so refuses to kill him or allow him to come to harm. so instead they just have an intense and tension-heavy fight in shibuya. yes its just a “nanami lives” au. what you gonna do about it :3
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plushclownparty · 3 days ago
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is this anything.
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scuttlefishy · 1 day ago
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he is so cozy
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orochiposting · 11 months ago
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“I can fix him dw” [drill sounds] {screaming} [chainsaw revving]
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hitsuo · 3 months ago
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my lovers <3
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bao---143 · 2 months ago
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I love this trend
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imlovearm · 5 months ago
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diva queen mahito ok sorry i havwnt posted also somehow got 700+ followers on here hi
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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago
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Mahito x darling
TW: NSFW, noncon, psychological torture, Mahito in and of himself
fem reader
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Mahito is so scary because you're the only one who sees him. 
You can't tell your friends, you can't call the cops, you can't even discuss it with your therapist for fear of being committed. 
You're all alone with him – half the time convinced you’re going insane.
He doesn't even need to kidnap you. Why would he? He likes your cozy apartment. To see you in your natural habitat with all your personal trinkets. Your books, your decorations, the contents of your fridge, your makeup, your clothes, not to mention the soft warmth of your bed…
Sure, his sewer has its charm, but you probably wouldn’t like it there very much. Not that it would stop him, but he’s sure you’d be boring if all you did was stay cooped up there all day. 
This is much more interesting. To be there when you come home from work, having trifled through all your belongings, dragged everything out – made a mess like a new puppy would. To watch you try to cling to your sanity, going about life, trying to live it normally even when he’s right there on your sofa wanting to dish about how much you loath your pissy boss or that loud neighbor and what fun it might be to kill them.
You brush him off as intrusive thoughts – a manifestation within your mind. That’s the only explanation that allows you to keep your wits with you.
But it’s become hard to bring anyone home. Even though others can't see him, he’ll walk about your friends and the odd date and comment on all the things they do, ridiculing them when they say something cheesy, feigning puking before giving it away with a snicker, then asking you why you bother hanging out with them at all. And you wonder if that’s what you really think… why else would a figment of your imagination say something like that?
No. You decide. He doesn’t represent your thoughts. He’s just… a roommate who knows no boundaries. 
Funny enough, you don’t really recognize that he’s any dangerous before you’re getting dressed after a shower, opening a drawer on your dresser you rarely look in – only to find it overfilled with dozens of tiny shrunken heads.
You scurry back on the floor with your hand clasped over your mouth until your back meets your bed – skin crawling. There’s no air left in your lungs from the shock to produce any such thing as a scream – so instead, you start heaving – then crying.
“Oh – I was wondering when you’d find them!” A cheer is heard from your bedroom threshold.
Your eyes pan to look at him – or it. Mahito, with a big grin on his face – clapping as though impressed by your performance.
“Wh-what – what is this?” You splutter, trying not to throw up – casting shifty glances over at the lump that had fallen to the floor – its face twisted with agony, unrecognizable, but you think you still knew… “What have you done?”
It doesn’t smell of rot, but something else – like unwashed clothing – sweat and piss and shit – you don’t understand how you hadn’t smelled it before. You don’t understand how you hadn’t heard it before – the moaning, though only in hoarse weak voices, still there, in a chorus, crying in pain.
“I’ve been studying them.” He says – casually, padding across the floor before bending down to pick the one up.
He looked at it with disappointment, throwing it up and catching it like one would a baseball – then clicked his tongue. 
“But I must say you’ve got boring taste… I don’t feel like I learned much of use from any of them at all.” 
He drops it to the floor in a fleshy splat, and you cringed anew – wanting to crawl away, wanting to get out, to call the police – maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to be committed – maybe there was something genuinely wrong with you…
Mahito doesn't share your concerns, though. He’s got his mind on other things. 
“I think I’ll learn better through practice.”
You don’t realize what he’s talking about before you’re being lifted up on the bed and then pushed down against it.
His lean but muscular frame has you dwarfed as he crawls after you – caging you between his arms and legs.
“I wouldn’t mind the floor, but I’m sure you’d prefer the bed. That’s how you humans usually like it, right?” He smiles – as though he’s doing you a favor. 
He’s taken off his usual tunic – showcasing a pale grey chest patchworked together in crude stitches – and you don’t really understand why you’d ever conjure something that looked like it. So human, yet still… so not. 
“I didn’t know what size you’d want – they were all so different – but I think bigger is better, isn’t it?”
It doesn’t register before you feel the weight of it on your stomach. 
Fat and warm, ridged with veins and hard against you. 
Looking down, feeling the situation settle on your skin like the raw cold – you realize, though you don’t understand it – Mahito isn’t just some imaginary friend. 
Whatever he is – he’s no such thing as a friend at all.
Your chest flares. “Mahito, no – ”
Your hands fly to try and push him off, but they’re easily caught. His fingers stretch inhumanly like playdough, using only one hand to reign in both wrists, pinning them to the pillow above you.
“No? Still too small?” He asks, as though your uproar had been a cry for more – his voice in a playful lilt. “I can make it bigger if you like~”
You squirm when the thing between your thighs grows an inch – swelling up into something fatter than your wrist – weighty and twitching atop you. 
It alone churns your guts, but the sight of his face gleaming so innocently makes it all so much worse. 
You whimper as he drags a rude finger through your folds – bluntly poking at your hole.
“You’re supposed to be wet, no?” He posed, keen eyes watching your face grimace in discomfort – drilling his digit inside you despite it. 
When knuckle-deep, he curled it, nail scraping into the gummy of your tender walls – making your whole body twist with an ache, shaking your head while sinking your teeth into your lip.
“Stop-” You croaked pitifully, still trying to wring your wrists free – but the hand keeping them jailed had hardened into something that was no longer skin.
He just yawned at your struggle. “So noisy...” Bored while looking down at you and the ugly way your lips curled at his crude fingering – but then his eyes widened. “Wait – oh! I get it now! So, this is what kissing is for…”
He didn’t give you much time to turn away before his mouth locked on yours – more in an attempt to swallow than to kiss, feeding you his tongue – which felt so much longer than it should be – winding through you until it licked your gag-reflex and made you choke.
You tensed in response, clenching the finger prodding you – and he took it as an invitation to squeeze another in – making you squeal out a sob in his mouth. 
But though it was a cruel ministration, it was enough to tickle the instinct – dragging wet out from within you, bathing the digits that now slid with greater ease in and out.
“See~ I told you I’d learn better through practice...” He mumbled against your lips – having felt the change – also noticing the quiet that befell you… looking so cute beneath him. 
He chuckled – the taste of your kiss still warm and wet on his lips.
“That really did shut you up, hm~ you humans are so funny.”
That thing resting heavily on your belly does a little jump, and you flinch with it. Left panting after being throat-fucked by a tongue – you’re really only able to shake your head as he slips the beastly thing down between your thighs – its fat head licking your clit on its way until kissing your entrance.
Two fingers haven't done you any justice – nothing could – to prep you for something of that size.
“I think this is correct…” He muses, nudging himself against the slim coin-sized hole – looking a little confused while he did so – though not exactly unsure of himself… more as though it was the whole procedure in and of itself that was at fault and not him. He was just following instructions, after all.
Sucking his teeth at the tautness, he continued to press the tip through you. 
A whine was ripped from your chest as it arched off the bed – thighs quaking on each side of his hips, kept spread despite wanting to force themselves shut.
“It’s better if you relax.” He offered then, though without much sympathy. Sounding almost jaded – as though you were keeping him waiting. 
But then a thumb pressed down on your clit, forcing another jolt to rush through you. 
“Women like to be touched here, right?” He rubbed crass circles into it – worse than amateurishly – rough patterns that bore no real intention of making you feel good. 
Then his mouth slid from your mouth, down your neck – only to sink teeth in your tit.
“And here~” He giggled while nomming your nipple, rolling the little nib between his teeth before flicking over it with his tongue again and again, sucking on it harshly.
None of it made you relax like he’d suggested. Either way, he continued to sink his length one thick chub at a time as fast as your hole allowed. And soon enough, he reached your end before your hole could reach his. But that was no issue…
The hand on your clit, cupped your mound instead – and beneath it, where warmth pooled, you felt inner things alter – change, rearrange, allowing the giant member inside you to sink deeper even though you knew there couldn’t possibly be any deeper to go.
“Wow~ look at that…” He awed when his pelvis smushed against your mound – kneading into your clit as he pressed a curious hand down on the bulge he was making in your belly.
Strings of drool stuck from his lips to your chest – and a sick look pooled in his eyes.
Thicker and thicker breaths left him. He swallowed thickly. Barely blinking.
“I think I get it now…” His voice had shed its humorous tone, now sounding soft with something you didn’t want to have the attention of. “It’s like our souls are playing together…” 
His hand stroked your stomach – like he was petting something.
“Feels good.”
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lilacxquartz · 3 months ago
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part 6 of 19 of kinktober: foursome
mahito x reader
plot: mahito surprises you by splitting his body into three copies of himself — themes: group sex, mahito changing his body to have tentacles, tongue throating, smut, anal, m/m/m/f, foursomes, f!reader — a/n: all consensual here, wanted to play around with such an imagine — w.c: ~1.6k
kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3
“Can I help you with something?” you asked Mahito who was otherwise stood right before you; his eyes so dazed yet so focused at the same time, as though wide with fleeting wonder.
“Wanna see something fun?” he asked after a moment of unsettling silence.
Knowing Mahito, you couldn’t help but feel some sort of dread nestle within the depths of your stomach. Albeit reluctantly, you however did nod as to confirm your curiosity.
Noticing your discomfort, the patch faced cursed spirit giggled to himself rather suspiciously but seemed to be restraining himself into a smoother, more casual demeanour.
You then watched with wary eyes as he did something not only strange, but surely impossible.
Even for him.
Like the tethering flame of a dry wick kissing a burning flame, Mahito slowly emerged as a secondary, seemingly separated life form. You stared with a wide, unblinking gaze as his body began to split, plopping out another version of him.
It took a hot moment for you to even process what was going on. A thought that you must have been hallucinating had crossed your mind for a second, but no matter how you tried to shake off what you were seeing; you couldn’t.
You faltered for a second longer before regaining your voice again, quizzing him at an almost bewildered tone, “I beg your finest pardon?”
“Impressed?” the Mahito closest to you had asked. The clone version. His voice was equally smooth and seemingly equally just as playful as his original counterpart.
Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to ground yourself while taking a long, deep breath. With a still shaky tone, you tried your best to keep it all together, but you couldn’t quite retain your composure completely, “I’m not… too surprised, actually. I’m just floored that this is even possible to begin with.”
The two of them laughed in response, both sounding eerily similar yet somehow vaguely different. It was very clearly that they both found this whole situation deeply amusing, although there was a slight inkling of something else that lingered beneath the surface. It wasn’t quite unlike Mahito to prod at your boundaries and test the limits of what you could and could not handle, but it didn’t seem to be going in such a direction.
Before you had a chance to gather your thoughts and finalise them however, the cursed spirit managed to split off once more and reveal a third addition to his two other copies.
With fluttering eyes, you locked in on the sight before you.
There were three of them.
Three.
Your mouth opened to say something, anything, but no such words came.
Just what the hell was this, exactly?
“What’s the matter?” one of them asked, their voice taunting yet somehow alluring at the same time.
“What’s the matter…?” you repeated in a strained whisper, your mind still racing to process whatever mess he had plunged you into now. Which one of them was even speaking to you right now, anyway? Was this the original? Or was it one of the other… clones?
Another Mahito that hovered near the side of the other two decided to chime in as well, “You’re looking a little overwhelmed, huh?”
Was… was this one the original? You couldn’t even tell anymore. Although, there was one version of him that was surely unsettling. The one that lingered towards the side, watching you from the shadows. That particular version of him had no playfulness leftover in his demeanour, with all accounts of his nonchalant personality replaced with something dread inducing instead.
“Just think,” one of the more laidback versions spoke up, tearing your attention away, “the more of me, the better right?”
The other one seemed to agree with himself, “Yeah, that’s right. Now you get to have three times the fun.”
You hadn’t really quite noticed it right away, but the three of them had managed to close in on you by now, walking you up against the living room wall. The sensation of the cool brick pressing against your spine threw you off a little, prompting you to flinch.
Yet, the three Mahitos were undeterred, still easing as closely possible towards you. It wasn’t that you were put off by this development—it was quite the opposite actually—but you didn’t want to admit it. That in the presence of three of him, you were flustered, maybe even aroused.
And given the hungry looks on each of their faces, it was highly likely that they all had the same idea going on. You paused for a moment, narrowing your eyes at the sight. Of course they were all thinking the same thing, surely. They were still one person—one curse, after all—just sectioned off into three.
Ah, how confusing it all was, but you were slowly losing your ability to otherwise care, blinded by your own arousal.
The middle Mahito pressed his body against your own, trapping you between him and the wall. His hand snaked around your waist, coiling down to your core like organic springs, while the others manoeuvred around however and wherever they could.
Dipping your arm below your hips, the middle Mahito continued onwards with his pursuit by pushing down at your jeans and your underwear in unison, dropping the fabric down to the floor. His fingers then closed and pointed, webbing together and morphing into a tentacle-like appendage that speared into the enveloping pull of your cunt.
The quieter, more unnerving Mahito turned your head off to the side while the middle one continued to drive himself into your body, by pressing his lips against yourself and slipping his tongue inside. Similar to the middle version, the fleshy muscle seemed to only lengthen itself, vining into the back of your throat and quite literally taking your breath away.
Muffled whines and moans slipped out of your throat as you barely processed the progression of events. The writhing pass in between your legs had bloated and swelled, pushing inhuman lengths of reach. It partially hurt, but also felt pleasurable in a way that was unlike anything you have ever felt before. At last however, the tongue retracted from your throat, allowing you to pass a low whimper on its removal.
The one opposite off to the side didn’t give you too much time to think however, turning you over towards him with an impatient gesture and repeating the actions of the quieter one—of who positioned himself right behind you next. While both your pussy and your throat were occupied, he freed his erection from slightly pulling down at his trousers and position himself at your slightly parted cheeks. Spitting onto his tip, he coated the head of cock in saliva before pressing it against the opening of your ass, easing himself into the tight position, though allowing you to take him in slowly.
“Keep up,” the quieter one murmured, the playfulness still somehow absent from his voice unlike with the other two. Something about such a development was both thrilling yet worrying, but you didn’t have neither the time nor the opportunity to think.
You tried your best to keep up, feeling his throbbing length press become swallowed by the encasing muscles, feeling ever so slightly overwhelmed at the prospect of being filled up by three of him. The one tightly packed in your behind, pushing himself back and forth in heated, almost feverish motion. It almost felt like he was tearing you apart, splitting into you with every grunted plunge.
Meanwhile, the one in the front was quickly getting a rise from within you. Morphing veins and ridges over his twisting arm, he elicited raw pleasure from filling you out in every sense of the word. His other hand focused on creating a suction-like addition, that he held clean over your clit, further feeding into the sensation.
Thoroughly stuffed to the brim by all three of them, your body began to quickly writhe and convulse as it succumbed to almost numbing bliss.
“Aw, are you going to cum already?” the one in front of you teased, although his tone of voice seemed to be almost endearing.
All you could do was give a slight nod of your occupied head, still being throated by his other self pushing his elongated tongue back and forth down your throat while the other continued to pound away ruthlessly into your ass.
Still keeping the sensation going, he removed his other hand from your clit, easing down to his knees instead while keeping his arm still thrusting into you. Propping open his mouth, he speared his tongue over towards your clit in a similar fashion to how the other two used their tongues, driving a focus on the sensitive bud. The wet muscle flicked and lapped over the nub, bringing you closer and closer towards your finish.
It was swift due to the overwhelming amount of both pleasure and pressure alike, but your lower stomach soon had found its limit. In a tight squeeze, your thighs quivered and clenched tight against his arm, while your hips stuttered from an intensely milked out orgasm.
Melting against the wall in much sought after recovery, the other two withdrew from you and seemed to fuse back together with the original, who seemed to be the one in the middle. You blinked at the sight, but didn’t question it anymore, needing to rest more than to process the madness he just demonstrated.
“Now imagine if i could make even more of me,” Mahito laughed to himself, settling right beside you to join you in your rest.
You gulped, unable to quite imagine the prospect of even more of him, feeling your cheeks redden from the very thought in near anticipation.
With a weary light hearted scoff, you leaned your head over his shoulder and felt your eyes droop shut. “Yeah, imagine…”
(Although a part of you couldn’t wait for all this to happen again. And again. …And again.)
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kayliraine · 6 months ago
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02.04.2024
hello mahito nation???
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juvianism · 1 year ago
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🐺🐇 I'm you, Mahito.
rendering to study more about coloring n stuff.
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sscarletvenus · 8 months ago
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yes suguru's plans to exterminate a vast majority of humanity is undeniably evil, but to say that he is murderous from the very start, cruel for the sake of being so, or lacks compassion or any emotional nuance is a gross disservice to his character's writing.
suguru is a case study of a romantic idealist and self-sacrificial saviour whose absurdly rigid, quixotic ideals are shattered brutally by reality intervening. the intense hatred he has for humanity is born out of, is an inverse of, the intense love he once possessesed for it. this is also why even though satoru is portrayed as brash and selfish and arrogant in the hidden inventory arc, it is suguru that turns "villainous."
suguru places his faith in the goodness of humanity, believes the duty of shamans is to protect the weak, their existence solely hinged upon saving the lives of non-sorcerers, and for that he is disappointed so tremendously, betrayed to an extent that makes it impossible for him to recover his ideals and past self.
ultimately there are also more than one reasons why satoru doesn't become "evil" : 1) "protecting humanity" was never his cause to begin with. he hardly cared about preserving human life, as is evident in his intentions to kill the cultists who cheered on riko's death, and 2) he had someone shielding his inner self : suguru. for it is suguru that tells him the duty of shamans is to protect non-shamans and the weak, suguru who asks him to sympathise with riko, suguru who persuades him to not kill meaninglessly.
satoru is indeed attached to riko, as well. he is the one who decides not to hand riko over to tengen if she wishes to return home, and tries to enliven her last days as a lucid person. it would thus not surpass one’s expectations if satoru turned to villainy post riko's demise, since he never even liked non-shamans to begin with. and yet, he doesn't. suguru protects his heart, which is a part of why he is able to steadily process his grief and anguish over riko's death.
suguru doesn't have anyone to do that for him, he is strong in his own right but not the "strongest", nobody notices how deep of an abyss his soul has sunken in, and he succumbs to the lethal loneliness, falters in this marathon of sorcery.
suguru is brimming with love and compassion: it is what drives his heroism in youth and villainy as a cult leader. he is able to protect gojo's heart but not his own. he fluctuates between two polar extremes : utter distaste of humanity Vs. a duty to protect it despite its horrors. three things serve as final nails to the metaphorical coffin : yuki's words, haibara's death, miminana's abuse. he describes imbibing curses for curse manipulation is "like eating a rag used to clean vomit". how macabre, how grotesque, how enlightening - who is he doing all this for? the humans who killed riko? it was these humans haibara died serving, these same humans violently mistreated miminana.
toji and sonoda encapsulate evil very blatantly, and aren't enough to shake suguru's belief in humanity. but the turning point is the non-shaman cultists rejoicing : suguru is thus forced to confront the banality of evil.
and suguru responds by rejecting what he once loved, embraces the darkness plaguing him. believes the only way to eradicate curses is to uproot their source : humanity. humans, for as long as they will live, will give rise to curses born out of their negative emotions. there is no one to tell him any better, or protect his self-identity. he loses himself to his own sense of empathy, his own ideals.
he isn't indifferent at all, cannot pick and choose whom he loves and doesn't. his love and hatred is collective, in both he gives his all. even amidst his hatred, he doesn't lose his love.
who does he choose to target first, once amassing enough money, power, and reputation? sonoda, the man who ordered riko's assassination. someone who lies in wait to enact vengeance does it out of love. if he was nothing more than a corrupt tyrant, he wouldn't remember the circumstances of riko's demise or care enough about them. suguru's rise as a hero and his subsequent fall as a villain has always been about love. and it seems, to me, up until his death, he prioritizes satoru over himself. doesn't see satoru as a weapon at all, or he would have directly asked satoru to join his cause. instead he poses to satoru a question, presents him with a choice - which in turn makes satoru shaken enough to question his identity, his place in the system, becoming a teacher and dedicating his all to a fitting reformist centrism from an isolated and dare i say, individualistic person such as himself, who stands on the pinnacle of power. but he wouldn't have come to such a conclusion without suguru's experiences shaping his worldview (he himself apologizes to riko during his fight with toji because rather than feeling depressed over her death, he feels the pure pleasure of the world in that moment. killing toji endows him with a sense of duty towards megumi, and riko's death but obviously impacts him, but the change from full apathy, to neutral indifference except in the case of his students, was losing suguru.)
as evil as suguru becomes, he is not a hypocrite. that he kills his own parents is to show the seriousness and conviction he has in his ideals. his code of operation is consistent, even when it turns from pro-human to pro-shaman.
reminds you of what mahito tells yuuji: does yuuji ever consider how many curses he kills? so why should mahito account for how many humans he kills? suguru geto presents us with a possible answer : someone has to care about how many shamans are killed.
you can condemn him for his use of collective punishment, but suguru is a villain!
you can criticize his killing of innocents, but jjk conveys the carefully crafted narrative of a villain who once held staunch traditional and moral ideals.
suguru is evil for proposing collective punishment, but it is incredibly consistent with how emotional he is. he is empathetic because he cares about a girl like riko, doomed by the actions of the rest of the world, forgotten in her misery. he cares and it drives him to the deepest pits of despair, where life loses all color and meaning, despite only knowing her for so long and haibara as well, he enshrines haibara in his memory, when no one other than nanami does. hardly anyone remembers riko's existence, haibara's laughing face, but he does! and for that he spends each moment sinking in the quagmire of his grief and torment. his empathy is a sword of damocles hanging over his neck! to say that he is cruel and unfeeling is to contradict the very agony that drives his (wrongful?) actions. and he is indeed wrong for externalizing this indelible pain, wanting to inflict it upon innocents. but suguru is a villain! has been set up as such!
mahito raises this question to junpei,"is the opposite of love really indifference?" to satoru, it is. but to suguru, it is hatred which is the opposite of love.
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sillylilili · 25 days ago
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Onw more Mahito sketch....
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chuuyasballz · 1 year ago
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Jujutsu Kaisen characters as random screenshots in my phone (part 20)
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Link to other parts
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