uminohoshi reblogged
Oh. Another alternate of Kakyoin being perfectly alive and well. Jotaro just shrugs, fixing his hat.
« I have some family business to fix here, even if I actually move a lot between Morioh and America. I hope you're fine. »
uminohoshi reblogged
chardargent
Sometimes he indeed asked himself when he and the Frenchman stepped beyond the barrier dividing friendship-like douchebaggery from actual married couple snarkiness.
Nevertheless, the soon-to-be biologist was already setting the various needed things for a proper portion of sushi, the various ingredients starting to fill the counter. « So --salmon and wasabi. You have five more minutes to tell me what else do you want before I start. »
uminohoshi reblogged
emeraldsplashes
« If it makes you feel better. I'm not even interested to eventual avances of yours, if there was even the slightest possibility of your person doing such a thing. I have a child and I'm going to marry my job quite soon. »
uminohoshi reblogged
emeraldsplashes
« Sometimes it happens. . . I suppose. Memory and the brain itself are quite feeble and fickle, even if someone may seem the strongest human being on Earth.
You don't have to worry. He's not that harmful. . . unless he decides to punch you. »
uminohoshi reblogged
« Good. » Puts his hat on the other's head. Then proceeds to go in the kitchen and check if he has at least the ingredients. « Are you okay with salmon or do you prefer some other fish? »
uminohoshi reblogged
emeraldsplashes
« No, but I can perfectly hear people screaming about me or whatever alternate of mine's ass like every single person on earth can hear someone screaming. There's an alternate of me who can actually read minds, and I truly warn you not to go closer to him.
By the way, I think introductions are useless, at this point. »
uminohoshi reblogged
Ruffles hair. « With or without wasabi? »
uminohoshi reblogged
Pinches cheek. « What if I prepare you sushi? Or buy you a pizza? »
uminohoshi reblogged
« Yeah, »I love you too, asshat. »
uminohoshi reblogged
soranoryogyokuseki
Blood and flesh desire to slough from his body, but those words make his body’s functions come to a stop in an instant. The decay and rot that wished to leech through his body is frozen for a moment when Jotaro speaks—not out of a weight being lifted, but because of something else.
How he “treated” him? Trying “to cure”?
There was nothing ever wrong with Jotaro from what he saw. Jotaro was normal. He might have had a Stand, but he was a normal boy. He was handsome, he was cool. He was kind. Had he ever been unwell? He was the one who had been some sort of monster for thinking that way, for knowing that he did not just look at Jotaro with the eyes of a friend.
He had been treated appropriately, he had been treated as he should have been. He had been shown that it was a fault in himself—and it was only natural for Jotaro to come to view it as the opposite.
"You did nothing wrong," he eventually says in a whisper, horrified that he might have done more. "I have not forgotten anything. That was the happiest I had ever been."
He could feel his blood boiling deep , even inside his pumping muscle. It was like looking at his own smiling reflection in a mirror, the same lies being webbed around himself.
Was that how people felt, whenever he dared saying he was fine --negating the wrongs he definitely did and stained his soul deep and permanently? Was that how people saw him --the stubbornness and the blindness being something making him want to grab the other and shake those fragile shoulders or slap away that fake happiness from his facial features.
A gulp.
What an hypocrite he was. What a hopeless, merciless hypocrite.
« I treated you like shit --I could have been a better person, a better friend. . . but I fucked up. Don't deny it --it's the blatant truth. I bet you would be still here, still alive, if I didn't fuck up. »
The sentence was spit out with hoarse voice, almost finding painful to remove that weight from his shoulders. Jotaro couldn't bear himself to look at the other --unworthy, unwilling to let the other see what a miserable wreck he was.
« You deserved far better than an idiot hiding his problem instead of. . . talking about it, and maybe being helped to find the solution. »
uminohoshi reblogged
soranoryogyokuseki
All he can do is stand there, useless, and watch. His horrific visage lingers, and he wishes he were like storybook ghosts—ones that could hide themselves with invisibilty and take refuge in corners or objects. He is some unsightly, unholy thing.
So different and disgusting.
He feels as if he can only spiral downward as he hears the steady drip of cold blood rolling from the wound on his back to nothingness on the floor. He was a ghost. Dead. A spirit.
But he can find his voice when Jotaro turns it on himself.
"Your sin…? I don’t understand. I-I’m… I wanted to see you. Please, Jojo, do not blame yourself."
For a split second, he glared. A moment, envy zapping in the sea of melancholy and regret, as the pathetic figure of the Star moved, hand feverishly flushing the toilet, then looking for something to use to wipe the mess that was his face.
How much he envied the other --his normality, his lack of that disgusting demon too busy devouring him completely with a desire he couldn't achieve because it was wrong, so wrong to even think about it. How much he envied the clueless attention the other donated to him, unaware of the beast inside of him, gurgling and cackling because of such gestures.
« You really don't remember, don't you? » It was instinctive, the shadow of the hat covering the suffering gaze. « How I. . . treated you. Or what I have been trying to cure, with no avail. That's my sin. And I have to be blamed for it. »
uminohoshi reblogged
YOU SMOOTH MOTHERFUCKER.
uminohoshi reblogged
It was supposed to be a se--what the hell Noriaki are you hittin' on me.