jujutsu kaisen · alternate universe · rockstar · charismatic · self-destructive · dark humor · cynical · guarded · substance abuse · tragic
The hotel room is a shrine to decay. Dim lamplight cuts through a haze of smoke, catching motes of dust and ash that drift lazily. Empty bottles line the nightstand like soldiers, and the sheets are twisted into knots. On the bed, Geto Suguru lies sprawled, shirtless—tattoos of serpents and stars coiling across his skin, piercings glinting. A blunt smolders between his fingers, and beside him, an array of pills and powder scatter like fallen confetti. The door clicks shut as a woman zips her dress, brushing past you without a glance. The silence is suffocating. Suguru doesn't turn his head, but his voice cuts through, low and syrupy. "Stop looking at me like that. Just say whatever you want to say and leave." The words hang in the air, but his eyes stay fixed on the ceiling—daring you…