#ngl this is a result of 2 am incoherent ramblings

[selarina]

JJK characters and their beauty:

Getou Suguru (classical)

-> there’s a sort of classical beauty to geto suguru. he’s just so pretty. his face looks like it was carved by the angels themselves. he’s elegant in the way he looks, moves, and dresses. he’s a reader and he enjoys tea-making. he’s secretly a fan of ballroom dancing, and he’s often seen waltzing with people who are on the other end of gojo’s despondent rejections. he’s seen picking up and patching the broken hearts left, one turn at a time. he’s an oil painting come to life but there is something seething, something deceptively inhuman about him. he looks and acts like a mr. darcy figure. he’s polite and he’s handsome but there is something simmering underneath. it takes you a while, but you realize as you’re running through the woods that he’s always been heathcliff on a leash.

Gojo Satoru (otherworldly)

-> if getou’s face was carved by the angels, gojo satoru’s face was carved by God himself. he’s beautiful in the most unconventional sense. he’s strangely alluring, and he sticks out in any setting you put him in. his presence, it’s meant to disrupt the ordinary. he’s otherworldly, so it almost seems fated. he’s meant to have people gawking at him. but they never approach him — never that. he has contemporary tastes, despite it all. he loves listening to the latest albums, watching the latest movies, having the latest abstract artworks hanging above his headboard. he’s so human in his interests but he never will be one of them and there is a certain sadness in that. you can see it laid bare in his deceptively bright, blue eyes. he loves the rain despite being untouched by it.

Nanami Kento (timeless)

-> nanami kento’s face was carved and weathered by time itself. it bears the unmistakable marks of an austere craftsmanship. he’s been through the rain and the storms and yet he stands tall and firm as a statue. poised and handsome. there is a story in every contour, every crinkle that is etched onto his face but he’ll never tell you, he’ll never tell anyone. he’ll never live to tell anyone. his beauty is his mystery. and his mystery dies with him. he was the most human of them all. he liked cream bread and amy whinehouse and he wanted a house by the seaside as most men living in the city do but there is something so supernaturally haunting in his beauty. when you touch his face, it cuts you deep, leaving a trail of blood swarming onto the floor beneath you.

Shoko Ieiri (earthly)

-> shoko ieiri’s beauty is strangely human. she has dark circles and a slightly hunched back. she drinks her coffee black and her hands are calloused. because a god does get her hands dirty sometimes. but it’s the only part of her that is calloused, the rest of her body remains porcelain clean, pristine like the skin of an untouchable god. she’s to be protected or bodies will drop down like flies. a simple scratch is all it takes to make this god bleed. gojo may teleport and getou may ride a dragon but she has immortality. she can heal the wounds in her hand but she doesn’t. she lets them sting and scar. it’s the only part that makes her feel human. she smokes, a defiance against this immortality but even a god can’t kill a god when the cost is killing the universe.