#and his mothers 'im sorry' for sacrificing her only son to the wolves and now hes becoming one of them

[sukunasun]

PARACELSUS | COLLEGE AU GOJO SATORU | *REUPLOAD

PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE

gojo shave your head because you’re going through changes and you need to let your old self die to be born again challenge. dark sunglasses he hides behind shielding him from all the things he wishes to forget, the things that haunt him. looking down from the rooftop of a high rise and wondering how long it takes to reach the bottom, picturing the distance getting closer and closer.

it’s his first time in switzerland and instead of standing at jungfrau’s summit or taking a scenic train ride, he’s here for rehab. simmering in a boiling hot stone bath at precelsus, he avoids his father’s disappointed stare as he looks into his son’s blue eyes, sad and empty from where he stands looking down at him. the fear in gojo’s chest isn’t foreign, he welcomes it even. for he knows he’s going to get his throat slit yet he accepts it at the hands of the only person who’s able to do it tenderly. love is a blade that never stops cutting. “i blame myself and i’m sorry. i’m sorry i spoiled you, and now you’re fucked. you’re a hothouse flower and i made you weak. you’re nothing. maybe you should write a book or collect sports cars, but for the world? you’re not made for it.” even here, he’s freezing cold as his father turns away but the silence he leaves behind is as comforting a chokehold.

his mother visits once and her disinterest, her disconnect, isn’t faked. “i’m afraid i can’t stay for too long, wouldn’t want people to know i’m here. my only son—an addict. the papers will have a field day.” her attention fixates on everything except him, she doesn’t bother to take off her gloves, fixes her hair every six seconds, she swipes at his pillowcase to feel the material, flipping the switches to see if the bathroom lights are working, checks the water pressure. she doesn’t look at him the entire time.

“they’re taking good care of me,” he assures her, knowing that she’s only doing this because she can’t bear it. the way she walks around the room with her bag still in hand, a sign he’s come to recognize that she would rather be anywhere else. this compared to him pretending to fall asleep before she comes home and that same bag stays put on a countertop. she would take off her heels, let her hair down, and grab his tiny sleeping body out of a nanny’s hands. cheek pressing into his silver hair and loving the fresh smell of him after a bath. holding on to him like her life depends on it despite him getting heavier and heavier at seven, eight, nine. “he took you from me and i’m sorry.” she whispers to no one in particular, but he knows exactly what she means. what he doesn’t know is why she couldn’t have told him when he was wide awake.

“well they better be, it’s costing us a lot more, they’re thinking of keeping you here for another four weeks,” even though he’s only been here for two days, then looks at him directly when she says, “but my satoru shall only have the best.”

he leaves rehab then throws a cringefest birthday party with a compliment tunnel because of positivity and good vibes guys. his parents don’t show up, geto’s not speaking to him, but yuuji’s here. only, he’s stuck playing old nintendo games in the makeshift arcade, the same ones gojo had to play in secret. he doesn’t know what scares him most, that yuuji tells him he wants this life or that he wants to be just like him. he’s flying above a sea of literal strangers and he calls it the coming of the second messiah. something about “i used to be an atheist until i realized i am god.” he tells the party planner who’s already stressed out with the lights and the mingling people who want gojo’s personal phone number. here, he throws back shot after shot and sweats it out on the dancefloor, they’re playing songs that remind him of the youth he’s lost. moving across this sea of vipers who just want a piece of him, tearing him apart, consuming his flesh. they smile and laugh but he doesn’t know if it’s alongside him or at him.

what antics.

and then there’s geto. just geto with his kind heart and his sense of humour, the way he used to be everything gojo had. post-switzerland, geto isn’t anywhere to be found and he’s pretty sure it’s his fault. and the thing is gojo doesn’t ever have problems with these things. could easily call someone and get geto’s location in an instant but he doesn’t think geto would even want to be found. because the guy has his own shit too, demons lurking at the back of his mind filled with grief, and this need to be everyone’s first line of defense. “his sobriety is dependant on you,” mahito chuckles in geto’s face, “what does that make you, his friend? you think he cares about you, he’ll drop you the moment he gets back on his feet and you know it.”