#jjk fix it

[system-to-the-madness]

Blessed (2/2) - Fushiguro Megumi x fem!Reader

SPOILERs for up to ch. 235 - canon complient until then Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x fem!Reader Genre: angst (Part 1), fluff (Part 2), hurt/comfort Word Count: 7 946 Warnings: death, injury, stitches, blood, pain Summary: Megumi woke up after having been saved by you, but will you recover, too?

Part One

The air smelled of wood and tatami. Megumi groaned slightly as he tried to stretch, feeling the soft blanket and the warm futon engulf him. His limbs felt stiff, like they had done when he had been bedridden for weeks with the flue when he had been thirteen. He grabbed his hands and intertwined the fingers, stretching them above his head, before eventually blinking his eyes open. The room he was in was lit up only by the orange light of a small lamp at the headend of his futon. Beyond the traditional room separations made of washi and wood the darkness of night lingered quietly. The tatami floor filled him with the comforting sense of familiarity. He was back at Jujutsu High, strangely enough the one place he had always felt safe at. Maybe because you had always been there.

A sudden noise at his feet drew his attention to it, and sitting up a little he was met with a sight that let his heart almost stop in his chest. Curled up at the end of his bed, hair dishevelled and one hand resting on Megumi’s ankle as if to make sure he wouldn’t get up unnoticed, lay Gojō.

His snow-white hair seemed to glimmer in the low light of the room. His eyes were closed, white lashes resting on his cheeks, even breaths moving his torso in a slow and steady rhythm. Megumi wondered when Gojō had lost so much weight. His cheeks seemed fallen in, exhaustion was written into his features, even while asleep.

The last time Megumi had seen his teacher and guardian had been before Halloween, before Gojō had been sealed away. And now it was… what day was it? How much time had passed since…

Megumi stopped, memories suddenly flooding back to him. Sukuna taking over his body and killing Tsumiki, the fight in Shinjuku on Christmas Eve against Gojō. And then? What had happened since then? How much time had passed since Christmas? Why was Gojō here, but you weren’t? Had something happened to you? Where were Yūji, Inumaki, Panda and Maki? Had something happened to them?

Slowly, not sure how strong his body was, he propped himself up on his elbow. Gojō looked peaceful, sleeping like this, and Megumi realised that in all the years he had been under the powerful sorcerer’s protection, he had never seen him sleep. Considering how exhausted he looked, Megumi was reluctant to wake him, but he needed answers. Badly. Especially concerning the question of where you were.

But before Megumi could reach out to shake Gojō awake, he stirred, blinking his eyes open. Over the years Megumi had gotten used to the stunning blue of Gojō’s eyes, but now, after all that had happened, after he had thought he had lost the only father figure he had ever had, he felt like all breath was knocked out of him, looking at Gojō with his dishevelled, white hair and those huge blue eyes.

Gojō seemed to take a moment to realise what he saw, as he slowly lifted his head, disbelieve written into his features.

“Megumi-“

No sound left Gojō’s lips, that formed the name of his protégé, and Megumi felt himself shrink under his teacher’s intense gaze, before the white haired man lurched forward and wrapped his arms around his student.

Megumi gasped in surprise as Gojō squeezed him in a hug, hesitantly returning it. Gojō was not the kind of man to hand out hugs just like that. Over the years, Megumi could probably count the times Gojō had hugged him, really hugged him, on one hand.

“I didn’t think you’d wake up,” Gojō breathed, pulling Megumi tighter against himself. “I thought I had lost you.”

Megumi nodded, trying to swallow down all the questions that were burning on his tongue and instead focus on what Gojō had said.

“You got locked away-,” he recalled. “I thought you’d be imprisoned forever.”

A beat of silence passed and all it took was an inhale by Gojō for Megumi to know the emotional reunion was over.

“Aww, did you miss me,” Gojō asked teasingly, pulling away, and causing Megumi to roll his eyes at him.

But then he stopped, looked at his teacher for a moment before he nodded.

“I did,” he admitted, knocking the wind out of Gojō’s sails, whose eyes widened in surprise at the honesty.

He swallowed thickly and nodded, pulling away far enough to sit up normally again.

“How are you feeling,” he asked instead of continuing his intended teasing, his eyes now scanning Megumi carefully.

“Pretty okay, I think,” Megumi answered, “A little stiff, maybe... wait- what happened to Sukuna?”

Gojō took a deep breath, making Megumi fear the worst for a moment. What was the worst? That Sukuna had possessed Yūji again? No, it would be worse if he were to possess you.

“Sukuna’s dead,” Gojō answered, and Megumi was glad that this time his usually annoying and always teasing teacher hadn’t made a big deal out of revealing the answer. “Yūji killed him through (y/n)’s technique.”

Megumi nodded, even though he was not sure what exactly Gojō had tried to say beyond that Sukuna was a problem of the past.

“So, he’s gone?”

“Dead, gone, never gonna possess or kill anybody again,” Gojō confirmed, a soft and relieved smile on his lips.

Megumi could feel the weight off the world fall off his shoulders, and he dropped back into his pillow, looking up at the wood panelled ceiling. Another question rose to his mind, and just as quickly the weight on his chest had disappeared, it increased again. What had happened to you? He was not sure he’d be able to ever get up from this futon if the answer was anything other than that you were fine.

“(Y/n)-“

The silence that followed his single word question made his heart plummet to unknown depths, and he screwed his eyes shut, but the tears welled up regardless. Why had he gone through all of this, all of it, if he could not even protect those he loved? Not only had this war demanded Nobara’s life, but he would have to spend the rest of his days living with the knowledge that his own hands, guided by an ancient evil, had killed his sister. And now the girl he loved, the girl he had thought was the one, the girl he had scolded himself over because you were basically still kids, how could he know you were the one, the girl he had secretly imagined he would marry one day… now you were gone, too?

Had it been summer, the silence would not have been as loud. Cicadas would have sung, and frogs would have quacked in the ponds outside. But in winter the school ground were quiet.

Gojō’s voice broke interrupted the quiet.

“She’s- well, her hear is beating, but she’s unconscious.”

Megumi’s eyes flew open again.

“What happened. Didn’t you say she helped Yūji kill Sukuna?”

Gojō deflated, shuffled his long legs around to sit more comfortably before he continued.

“We don’t know what exactly happened. One moment she allowed Yūji to reach through her to finish of Sukuna, the next she collapsed. Yūji and I are both certain we felt a… a wave of power at the moment of Sukuna’s death, so our best guess is that something happened on a level of their souls the moment Sukuna perished. He released so much energy that it would have torn all of us apart and she used her soul to protect us, you, me and Yuuij. Her soul couldn’t process all of it at once, but she tried absorbing it anyway…”

Gojō’s voice died down at the expression on Megumi’s face. Megumi looked exactly how Gojō imagined he had to feel. Grief, pain, self-reproach, hatred towards Sukuna, despair- all was written in his eyes, as he exhaled and let his head rest heavily into his pillow. Gojō almost expected him to send him away, to demand privacy, but the request did not come.

“Where is she now,” Megumi asked, closing his eyes in an attempt to shut the world with its cruelty out of his mind.

“She was in the hospital wing, but Shoko suggested she should better be in her own room. There isn’t really much she can do at the moment; anyone can do at the moment. If her soul wasn’t destroyed completely, she might recover in time, but there’s no way of knowing if it will work. A normal sorcerer would have died immediately, the only reason she’s still alive is her cursed technique. If she can manage to patch her soul back up-“

“Please-” Megumi’s voice was strained as he interrupted his teacher. “Please stop talking.”

Gojō immediately shut his mouth, his eyes flickering over the boy’s features.

“Do you want to be alone?”

Megumi hesitated for a moment, before he shook his head, keeping his eyes still closed. “No,” he answered truthfully. “I’m scared of where my mind will go when I’m alone.”

“Do you want me to talk to you?”

This time Megumi nodded. “Just not about her,” he asked, and Gojō complied happily.

He told Megumi about how he had been released from the prison realm, about the fight between him and Sukuna. He tried to make it sound funny, but he felt the pain radiate of Megumi, so he went on about his friends. Gojō told Megumi about Yūji, who had spent the whole first day glued to Megumi’s bedside, until Shoko had sent him to bed. It had only been less than 36 hours since the battle had ended. And Gojō told him about Inumaki and Panda, who had kept wake with Gojō since then. He told him about Maki, who had tried reading to them all, and then he told him about anything and everything that came to his mind, about all the things Gojō was looking forward to doing and eating again, now, that the threat of Sukuna was over. And he kept talking long after Megumi had fallen asleep again.

-

When Megumi woke for a second time, Gojō had resumed his position at Megumi’s foot end, curled into a tight ball, but this time with his back to Megumi. There was no clock around, but Megumi had the distinct feeling, dawn was closing in. Nightmares had plagued his sleep, and he was overcome with the sudden urge, like every time he had a nightmare, to seek the comfort of your presence.

How many times had he gotten up at night and walked over to your room just to stand in front of your closed door for half an hour, not having the courage to knock? How fast had his heart beaten when you had eventually caught him one time, and made him swear he would knock in the future? How many times since then had he rapped his knuckles against the thin wood of your dorm door, only to be called in by your sleepy voice and how many times had you beckoned him into bed beside you where he had spent the rest of the night sleeping peacefully?

Throwing another glance at Gojō, Megumi carefully peeled back his blanket, and rolled off the futon. He was dressed in a pair of loose grey sweatpants and an oversized, dark blue sweatshirt. With naked feet, he tapped over to the door, taking a last look at his fast asleep mentor and slipped out of the sliding door. The air in the corridor was cool and smelled of snow. Even though it had been months since he had last walked around the school and there was no light source to guide him, he easily found his way towards your room in the dark building. Halting in his steps, he found himself once again in front of your door, hesitating to knock or even enter. How many hours had he stood like this, shifting his weight from the left to the right and back? Bouncing on his heels, walking a few steps back towards his room, only to turn around and stare at your door again? But this time you would not randomly return from a midnight-snack trip to the kitchen and scold him for hesitating in asking for help. No, you were unconscious, laying in your bed on the other side of the door that separated him from you, and there was no one who knew if you would ever wake up again.

Even though he knew there would be no answer, he lifted his hand to the thin, wooden door and knocked. Silence followed, silence he had expected and still hoped would be interrupted by your voice. He pressed down the handle nonetheless, letting himself into your room, and closed the door behind his back.

Your room was warmer than the corridor, but smelled fresh, as if someone had aired it out just a few minutes ago. Through the glass of the window beside your bed, he could see that outside the sky began growing slightly brighter. White dust – no, snow – covered the small garden in front of your window and the yard beyond. It seemed to have snowed a little since the battle in Shinjuku, and Megumi desperately tried not to think about how today a year ago, on the 26th, you had dragged him around Tokyo to go looking at all the Christmas decorations together. Back then, too, snowflakes had fallen from stormy dark clouds, and had caught in your hat and scarf, had splayed over the dark fabric of your coat like stars in the night sky as you had tucked on Megumi’s sleeve to get him to follow you to the next attraction. You had known each other for just two weeks back then, but Megumi’s mind still had played with the idea what it would be like if this trip had been a date, had even toyed with the idea of asking if this was a date. Now, when his eyes flickered over to the sleeping form in your bed, his heart reacted so differently than it had last year to the touch of your gloved hand on his. Instead of excitedly skipping a beat, it felt like it sunk into the ground.

Your hair was spread over the pillow, the blanket neatly pulled up to the middle of your chest, with your hands resting on it at your sides. You were wearing a long-armed sweatshirt, one that Megumi had gifted to you for Christmas last year. On the first glance it looked like a plain sweatshirt, but on the lower hem and on the arms, small, stitched-on flowers ranked around the seams, reaching a few centimetres up into the fabric. Megumi had seen the sweatshirt on a trip to Shibuya the day before Christmas Eve, and it had made him think of you, so he had bought it spontaneously, even though he had not planned on getting anything for you. You had smiled so brightly and admired the details when you had unwrapped it, that Megumi completely forgot how embarrassed he had been about it at first. The embarrassment returned tenfold though, when you ended up wearing the sweatshirt to the movie nights with all the other students, telling them how Megumi had gifted it to you. And now someone had dressed you in it, as you lay in bed lifelessly, the only sign that you were not dead being the shallow movement of your chest with each breath you took.

Carefully Megumi stepped further into the room. Usually when he had come to your room at such late hour, you had sleepily waved him over to join you in bed. You had always attempted to pull your blanket over him as well, but he had refused. It seemed inappropriate to join you under your blanket when he could not even confess his feelings for you, and he was certain, feeling you sleeping this close beside him would drive him mad. The temptation of wrapping you in his arms, tangling his long legs with your shorter ones, burring his nose against your hair, and inhaling your familiar and calming scent would have been too big. So instead he had always preferred the protective barrier of the blanket between your bodies. Now he wished for nothing more than you to attempt to tuck him in next to you, to feel your arms wrap around him securely and hold yourself close to him.

Feeling like it was not appropriate to join you in bed as he had done so many nights before, he instead grabbed the chair from your desk, and pulled it over next to your bed, sitting down in the dark. He didn’t dare turning on the lights, the little bit of morning grey that fell through the window illuminating enough of your features for him to know that the state you were in was worse than he had seen in his dream. Your cheeks were hollowed out from when you had poured all your energy into healing Megumi through Sukuna. There were cuts and not yet healed bruises all over your face and doubtlessly other parts of your body too. Megumi wondered where those had originated, but the thought that they were a result of Sukuna’s death were not too farfetched. Your skin had a grey hue to it, sickly and dead, and your hair was matt and void of any of the vibrancy Megumi knew. It looked like at one point it had been drenched in sweat but had dried since, single strands of hair sticking together.

Megumi’s eyes wandered to your hand laying on the blanket next to you. Small cuts and lacerations littered your beautiful skin, and even though it had only been less than two days, they already seemed to have started healing. He wondered if you’d be in pain if he were to take your hand in his. If so, would the pain be enough to wake you up? Was it even a good idea to wake you up? Wasn’t it better to wait until you woke up by yourself, when your soul was completely restored, assuming Gojō’s theory was correct? Megumi bit down on his own teeth, and quickly pushed his hands underneath his thighs, sitting on them to resist the urge to take your hand in his.

Beyond the window, in the grey light of the slowly approaching morning, sparrows tweeted in the yard, already up and making a fuzz as they always did. Megumi tore his attention away from your unconscious form, and directed it into the fading night beyond the glass instead. In front of your window was a small garden, conifers cut into bizarre shapes, ferns and different kinds of moss covering the rocks that lined a tiny brook that lead past the students’ dorms into a bigger garden behind the house. Beyond the small strip of carefully curated nature, a plastered yard opened up. Many afternoons he had spent training with you or Maki there.

A smile threatened to tuck at his lips at the memory of both of you facing off, afternoon sun beating down on you, sweat running down the side of his face and catching in the collar of his uniform. Even though you were smaller than him, you were almost equally matched. Unlike in his sparing sessions with Yūji, where Megumi almost always won, the chance to come out on top in a match with you were pretty much 50/50.

Well, not entirely. There was a third option, in which both of you were really equally matched, going on for sometimes hours without neither of you resigning or getting defeated. Those were his favourite sparing sessions with you. When in the end you both would all but collapse on the cobble stones, breathing heavily, and staring at each other for a moment before breaking out in tired laughter and laying on your backs on the hard ground, staring up at the sky with its clouds changing colour from white to yellow and orange to deep red and pink, before they turned blue in the sunset.

Oh, how much Megumi would give to get these times back. Sure, it had not always been easy, it had not always been fun. But you had been there with him, safe and uninjured, and Megumi had bathed in the illusion of having at least a little bit control over his life: when to study, when to eat and sleep, when to train. When to seek you out to hear your beautiful laughter.

Megumi turned back to you. Somehow you looked cold, he thought. As if the air in the room was too cool, giving you a chill.

Quickly he got up and fetched the woolly blanket from your wardrobe, which you had bought so Megumi could have a blanket too, when he was staying over in your room more than twice a week most times, since he always had refused to join you under yours. Working as quietly as possible, Megumi unfolded the blanket and threw it over your sleeping form before he settled down on the chair next to you again.

You still looked cold, but at least now your arms were covered as well, and there was an additional layer keeping you warmer. Megumi looked over your body, noticing that there was still the tip of your pinkie finger poking out from underneath the blanket. The same thoughts as before shot through his mind. Would you be in pain if he took your hand? Would you wake up? But this time he did not have the strength to deny himself the feeling of your hand in his, and very slowly, very carefully, he pulled the blanket away from your hand, pushing his own underneath your fingers. They were cold, as they rested in his palm, and quickly he brought his other hand down over it, covering it in hopes of offering a little warmth.

His fingers ghosted over the healing cuts and bruises on the delicate skin of the back of your hand. He wished he could do something to make them heal faster, something to warm your fingers up quicker, something to help you heal and wake up with the memories of what had happened no stronger than the memories of a distant nightmare.

He exhaled shakily. How long could he stay here with you? His heart screamed As long as it takes her to wake up!, but his head was more rational than that. He’d need to eat soon. Or use the bathroom. He needed to wash up and dress into something fresh, something he had not slept in. And if you stayed unconscious for longer, he’d need to get back to training, to studying. Sure, Sukuna was defeated, but there were still curses out there that needed to be dealt with.

Then there was the matter of the Zenin clan, the Zenin clan, which’s head he now was. By the gods, he really didn’t want that position, but he held it now, and even with how Maki had decimated the ranks, and the decision of the other clans to cast the Zenin clan out of the Big Three, there was still a lot of responsibility to bear, a lot of politics to learn. At least he did not have to worry so much about the Gojō clan, with Gojō Satoru, his guardian, being the head of it. But then again, he already dreaded the meetings. There was no way Gojō would behave maturely during those, was there?

What came after? After studying and training and fighting curses and handling clan politics? His fingers tightened around yours, not squeezing, but just enough for him to feel your hand rest heavily in his. After all that, he’d come back here, hold your hand, pray for you to wake up. He didn’t really believe in the gods, but he’d also daily go to a shrine, and make an offering to them, asking them to bring you back to him.

Megumi slumped deeper into the chain. He felt sleep already tuck at his eyelids again, his thoughts growing fuzzy, dizziness taking over his vision, even when he tried to fight it. It made sense, he guessed, that he was still easily exhausted after everything that had happened. And he had a feeling Sukuna had not really cared to take good care of Megumi’s body while he had possessed him, so that he was weakened from months of physical neglect. Still he tried to refuse his body the need for rest, and instead turned to watch your face once more. The sky outside had brightened enough to give him a clearer image of what state you were in, and Megumi’s heart tucked painfully as he was able to make out the cuts across your face more clearly now. A deeper one, that had been stitched up, ran from the corner of your mouth to the side of your nose, another one right underneath your left eye and countless shallow ones were littered all over you face.

Megumi blinked slowly, exhaling shakily. He wished he could help you somehow, could do more than stare at you and hold your cold hand. He wove the fingers of his left hand through your right, continuing to brush over the tiny cuts on the back of your hand with the other one.

Was it just a figment of his imagination, wishful thinking, or had your hand become a bit warmer between his, your skin regained a little bit of its colour? No, he told himself, he was just exhausted, beginning to confuse reality with what he wanted to see. Looking back at your face, he inhaled with a shudder before he closed his eyes. He needed to sleep. He was of little help as it was, but completely exhausted he’d be even less useful. If you stayed asleep for a longer time, he wanted to be in shape and back in the game before you woke up. Maybe even have figured out all the clan business by then. And if you woke sooner, which he hoped for, he at least wouldn’t look quite as battered as he felt at the moment if he napped a little now.

His mind began drifting off eventually, the dizziness of exhaustion pulling him under, back into memories of spring afternoons sparing with you under the fall of Sakura petals. He wished he could summon those memories at will anytime he wanted, the feeling of the soft spring breeze on his skin, the touch of petals brushing over his face, the sound of your breathless laughter, the strain in his muscles and the shock in his bones whenever your staff hit his with unbroken ferocity. He was on the strange border between waking and sleeping, just wondering if he could manipulate the memory enough to stir his time with you away from the sparing exercise and instead convince dream-you to take a break sitting on the stairs, when suddenly there was something moving against his hand.

Half asleep, Megumi tried shooing the sensation away, wanting to stay in the beautiful memory of this afternoon in spring he had spent with you, but the motion in his hand returned and he jolted out of the dream.

The third time around, Megumi was certain that he was not just imagining it: Your fingers were weakly flexing against his, and before he had time to sit up or even direct his attention to your face, your raspy voice broke the silence that otherwise was only interrupted by the chirping of the birds outside in the snow.

“Megumi?”

It felt like Megumi’s whole world began collapsing in on itself, his heart first stopping and then beating with twice the speed at the sound of your familiar voice whispering his name.

“Megumi, is that you?”

Along with your question you tucked at his hand, and he finally looked up at your face.

Your eyes were still heavy, but open and fixed on him, flitting over his features as if you were searching for any indication that the boy in front of you was someone else, someone who just looked like him.

Megumi wanted to answer, but his throat closed up painfully. So he just nodded, grabbed your hand tighter into his, and nodded. At the gesture a smile began tucking at your lips, a sad smile that he desperately wanted to turn into a happy one, and panic began gripping his heart, when he suddenly noticed tears springing into your eyes. Quickly he shifted from the chair to sit beside you on the mattress of your bed, the softness of it familiar under him, your body pressing heavily against him through the blankets.

“It’s really you,” you answered your own question, a tear running down you’re the side of your face and into your hairline. Megumi wanted to brush it away, but he still held your hand with both of his and refused to let go. Instead, he just held your hand tighter, bringing it up to his chest. He was not sure if it was a gesture to comfort you by letting you feel his heartbeat, or a gesture to comfort himself.

Leaning a little closer to you he finally managed to press out a few words, his voice raspy and thick with unshed tears of relief. “’s me.”

You moved, pulling your other hand from underneath the blanket, and reached up towards Megumi’s face. Leaning in further, he met it halfway, letting you brush your fingers over his face. Cold fingertips traced the skin along his chin, over his forehead and over the bridge of his nose. It was only when your featherlight touch ran along the thin skin under his eyes that Megumi understood that you were tracing the parts of his skin where Sukuna’s marks had once been. A shiver went through him at the thought, suddenly uncomfortably aware of how much his body had been violated by the ancient sorcerer.

“He’s gone,” Megumi whispered into the narrow space between you, scared that if he spoke any louder, you might draw your hand away. He wanted to avoid that desperately. After all, your fingers left a sweet, tingling sensation in their wake.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you replied, drawing back from the subtle touch, and instead cupping the side of Megumi’s face. Instinctively he nuzzled into your palm, not minding that your cold fingers set the little hairs on his neck standing up.

“I was scared you wouldn’t wake up,” Megumi voiced his own confession.

Now that he was so close to you, close enough to smell the faint fragrance of the laundry detergent you used, and the dullness of the scent that only engulfed you when you were sleepy, he could no longer hold the thoughts at bay that had scratched at the surface to his consciousness since his conversation with Gojō. He had leant in close enough to feel your warm breath ghost over his cheek, and all of a sudden he was not sure why he had ever been scared of being anything but honest with you. Honest about his feelings for you, honest about how scared he was at the prospect of you getting hurt, or even worse, dying.

“Gojō said, you took the blow of Sukuna’s soul, when he died,” Megumi pressed out, his voice hoarse and scratching in his throat. “That you shielded our souls with yours. To protect us…”

You nodded at his words, your eyes carefully watching the emotions on Megumi’s face, as he furrowed his brows slightly.

“You could have died,” he accused. “Your soul could have gotten blown to bits and you could have died-“ Megumi was not sure if he was sad, angry or despaired at the thought. “Why did you do that, put yourself on the line like that?”

“What would have been the alternative, hm? Let Sukuna blow all of us up? Sure, my chances certainly would have been better if I hadn’t tried to absorb the blast, but then you’d be dead now. Yūji and Gojō-sensei too.”

Your breathing had gotten heavy over the few sentences you had spoken, as if it took great physical effort to talk. Worriedly Megumi shook his head at you.

“But did you think for one moment about how I’d feel if something had happened to you?”

You laughed, but it was one of the humourless laughs you paid Megumi whenever he had missed the point in something you had told him.

“Did you think for one moment how I felt? Watching you being possessed by Sukuna?” You took a deep breath, trying to counteract the strain the conversation put on you, and had Megumi not been as desperate to hear your voice as he was, he would have asked you to continue the conversation another time. “How I felt watching him use your body to fight against the strongest sorcerer of our time, letting Gojō blow you to bits?”

Your fingers tightened around his left hand, the faint memory of searing pain tucking in his mind somewhere.

“And just for the record, I did think about how you might feel. And I came to the conclusion that I’d be lucky if you’d feel anything close to the despair I felt, watching you go through all that.”

Megumi stared at you, your argument only half registering in his mind, as his eyes stayed fixed on your chapped lips moving around the words you spoke.

“You’re an idiot Fushiguro Megumi,” you continued, slightly out of breath, and pulling your hand away from his face to softly flick his forehead, “if you think I’d risk your life if I might as well safe it.”

The flick against his forehead pulled Megumi back into the moment, your cold fingers smoothing over the spot where your nail had gently snapped against his skin, and then cupping his face again.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” Megumi mumbled, his eyes wandering to your lips before he hung his head.

He was tired, physically and emotionally. It felt like his body had been drained of all its energy over the past months, and now even the shortest conversations tired him out immediately. And he was sick of fearing getting rejected by you. He finally wanted to tell you how he felt, wanted you to know that in him you would always have someone who would look out for you, even if you turned him down. But was now really the right moment to spring this on you? Hardly.

“Me neither, Megumi,” you replied, “me neither.”

He felt you gently tuck at his chin, making him look up at you again. You were carefully observing his face, the way your eyes skipped to his lips again and again not escaping his notice, while he watched their flickering in a mixture of hope and anticipation as well as amusement. He wasn’t sure for how long you sat and simply observed each other, but when the first beams of winter sunlight began blinding him, he finally gave into the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since you had reached up to cup his face.

“May I kiss you?”

The question was but a breath in the little space between your faces, and he could feel your breath hitch once you had processed the meaning of his words.

For a terrible second Megumi thought you would deny him, would turn him down with the way your eyes widened and stared at him in surprise. But then they softened, and you nodded.

“Please,” you whispered back, your breath fanning over his skin like a gentle caress.

Megumi watched your face for a moment longer, wanting to see if you really meant your answer or if you had just agreed in order to please him. But the expectant nervousness, the anticipation and slight giddiness written into your features was proof enough for Megumi to slowly lean down to where you were still resting on the pillow. His eyes fluttered closed as his lips were but a hair width away from yours, hesitating to close the last bit of distance. His heart was doing summersaults in his chest, your hand he was still holding clutched to his chest, the only lifeline he had to hold onto to stay in control of the spinning in his head. For a second he waited, let the tension between your lips and his sizzle and burn him, felt the heat your skin radiated, the shaky up and down of your chest as you patiently anticipated him kissing you.

And when it all got too much, when his senses got so overwhelmed with your presence, when his ears were ringing with his own heartbeat, he eventually gave in, closing the last bit of distance and pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

Neither you nor Megumi had much, if any, experience with kissing, which an outsider would have been painfully aware to, watching the way Megumi was leaning over you, almost like frozen as his brain tried to process the sensation of your soft, sweet lips against his. But when he lifted one of his hands away from yours, and cupped your face instead, pushing his fingertips past your hairline, pulling you closer to him, the tension seemed to fall away, and he melted into the touch. Carefully he moved his lips against yours, his heart stuttering at the way your hand at his chest closed more tightly around his fingers, while the other moved from the side of his face to his neck, beckoning him closer and closer. His senses narrowed in on you, his world consisting of nothing but the sound of your hitching breath, the taste of your lips, the smell of your skin, the warmth of your body.

Megumi had often imagined what it might be like to kiss you, but never in his life had he imagined that your kisses might be so sweet, so soft and warm and gentle. The way our lips moved against his was heaven, and Megumi found himself wishing he could stay in that moment forever. Thin morning sunlight brushed over the two of you, warming his skin beyond the blush that hard started to burn on his cheeks, and his heart felt like it was beating in rhythm with yours as a soft gasp slipped over your lips when he ran his tongue experimentally against it.

That little sound was what made Megumi decide that he had to pull away from the kiss, lest his heart might give out, and with a shaky exhale he turned his head just enough to break away. Only then he noticed how out of breath he was, how shaky his hand on the side of your face had become. He rested his forehead against yours, playfully brushing his nose against yours, eliciting a small giggle, that made his heart swell.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, not caring anymore about whether it was a good or a bad time to talk about matters this serious. From where he was standing – or rather sitting – the two of you had barely escaped death, had won a battle against the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer of all time, and now had kissed in a morning-sun flooded room while outside snow crystals glimmered in the light. When would he ever have the courage to tell the truth if not now? “I know it sounds stupid, like a cliché or something, but I think I’ve been in love with you since we first me. It feels like that day in Shinjuku, when Gojō sent me to pick you up… I knew who I was looking for, as if my heart knew something my head didn’t.”

He expected you to say something, but instead you stayed quiet, only breathing heavily from the kiss you had just shared, and Megumi almost wondered if you had fallen asleep again, when you suddenly tucked on his sweatshirt.

It took him a moment to understand that you were wordlessly asking him to lay down with you, so he hastily swung his legs onto the mattress, and when you tried pulling the blankets over him this time, he did not protest, but settled under the soft and warm fabric like he had secretly wanted to do since the first time you had invited him to stay the night. Next to him you shifted, and before Megumi knew what you were doing, you had rested your head on his shoulder, just where his arm connected to his torso. Your ear was pressed to his body, as if you were listening to his heartbeat and you brought your arm over his chest in a comfortable hug.

Ignoring the way his heartrate was spiking, Megumi wrapped the arm you were resting in, around your back, pulling you closer to him, settling you more securely against his chest, and linked his ankle with yours. In response you shifted again, shifted more of your weight unto Megumi until you were both laying comfortably in each other’s arms. It felt like a puzzle made of two pieces with very difficult patterns had clicked into place, and it took everything in Megumi not to start crying at how happy it made him to have you rest by his side like this. Even though you had not answered to his confession.

As if you had read his mind, you suddenly spoke up.

“It wasn’t your heart,” you whispered against his shirt, tilting your head up a little to be able to look at him. “It wasn’t your heart that knew something your head didn’t. It was your soul. That’s how I found you that day. There was this call… not for the new student at Jujutsu High, but the call for me. As if your soul had been looking for me. And when I saw you, it felt like something had fallen into place and I knew that our lives had been meant to be intertwined even long before we first met.”

Megumi blinked into the by now sun flooded room.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t know if something like soulmates exist, but if they do, you’re mine.” Megumi felt your lashes against his jaw as you leant up to press a kiss to his chin, and then the side of his neck, sending a warm shiver down his spine. You settled back against his chest, before you asked: “Is that stupid?”

Megumi shook his head. “No,” he answered, “No, it’s not.”

He remembered how he had just followed an instinct that day, trying to find you, how he had been magnetically pulled towards you. He was certain soulmates were nothing but a fairytale made up by media trying to sell love to young girls, but the idea that there was someone out there destined for him was addicting. Especially if this someone were you. Scrap that. If that someone weren’t you, he wouldn’t want them either way. With you in his arms, he had everything he had ever dreamt of.

Megumi knew, that when he woke up again, there would be work he had to do. He’d have to deal with Yūji’s doubtlessly overly enthusiastic response to see him alive and well, and with Panda and Inumaki too. Yuuta and Maki probably would have the decency to greet him without violating his personal space. And then there’d be Gojō, who, now that his biggest possible enemy was gone, would turn into an unsufferable source of stupid ideas and childish behaviours. Megumi was almost looking forward to seeing the man he considered perhaps not his father but at least an older brother, back to his old, happy self. Then he’d have to deal with the Zenin clan, and the other clans. Maybe Gojō could help with that. But in between, whenever he wasn’t busy, he would come and find you, and maybe you’d allow him to steal a kiss or two.

“Hey, Megumi?”

Your voice was already thick with sleep as you pulled him out of his thoughts again. He hummed in response, too tired to form a coherent answer.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

Seemed like the chances that you’d allow him to steal a kiss or two were pretty good then. He hummed again, this time with a smile on his face, burying his nose in your hair, and you pressed yourself closer to him in response.

-

It was around noon, when Gojō made his way towards your room. When he had woken up, Megumi was gone, and there was only one place really the raven-haired boy would run off to. Not bothering to knock, Gojō pushed the door to your room open, fully prepared to find his protégé slumped in a chair beside your bed, holding your cold hand or staring at your lifeless features.

Indeed, there was a chair pushed to your bedside, but Gojō had not been prepared to find Megumi laying in bed with you, your arm dragged over his middle, head resting on his chest. It was obvious that both of you were exhausted, but the colour had returned to your skin, nothing like the last time Gojō had seen you, all grey and void of life. Even your hair seemed to have regained some of its old glow. It seemed like you had woken up at some point and dragged Megumi into bed with you. The way the boy had his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his face buried in your hair, not to mention the way Gojō remembered him looking at you for the past year, indicated that Megumi had been only all too happy to join you.

For a while Gojō watched his two students quietly. A part of him already wanted to tease Megumi, and he knew eventually he could, but he would also make it abundantly clear to both of you, how happy he was for you. After all you had been through, you deserved happiness.

Steps in the corridor approaching the room made Gojō pull out of his thoughts, and a moment later Yūji pocked his head in. Just like Gojō he took in the scene, and his mouth formed a little o before a grin split his face.

“About time,” he whispered with a grin, and Gojō couldn’t help but join in with one of his own.

“Finally, huh,” he agreed before he turned towards the door. “Come on, let’s let them sleep a while longer.”

Yūji nodded and bounced back into the corridor, the happiness for his friends unmistakable in the way he skipped away. Gojō turned to look at Megumi and you one last time.

There was a lot of work to be done when you woke up, but for now you deserved to rest. You had almost been killed and Megumi had been possessed by the mightiest sorcerer there had ever been. At least until Gojō had been born, the white-haired man thought smugly to himself. Megumi had lost so much, his father and mother, his sister, and almost the girl he loved. It was time that the wish that resonated in his name finally came true, that Megumi finally could live a blessed life.

Gojō quietly closed the door behind him as he stepped into the hallway. If there was one thing Gojō was certain of, it was that Megumi already considered himself blessed for getting to hold you in his arms, for getting loved by you and being allowed to love you back.

Tags: @natriae

#fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi x reader #megumi x reader angst #megumi x reader fluff #megumi x you #megumi x you angst #megumi x you fluff #hurt/comfort #jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fix it fic #jjk fix it

[sukeyumei]

In another life.

Pt1 of 2

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk #jjk fanart #jjk fix it #fix it of sorts #anime art #anime fanart #drawing #illustrators on tumblr #webtoon

[jjksugurugeto]

Satoru Pays Attention This Time

Satosugu, Fix-It

What if Satoru was there for all the moments when Suguru needed him most?

----

Suguru is sitting with Haibara in the hall in front of the vending machines when she walks in. 

“Hey! You with the hair… Are you Geto? I was wondering what kind of women you go for?” She struck a pose. 

Suddenly, Suguru was even more tired than he had been before. He could just tell just by looking at her that this conversation would end up being really draining. 

“Who are you?” He said, instead of answering the woman directly. 

“I like the type of girls that eat a lot.” Haibara said, with his typical uncensored enthusiasm. 

“Oh?” She said, with minimal interest.  

“Haibara.” Suguru could only manage, at his junior’s naive audacity. It made him feel that much older and ten times more exhausted.

“Don’t worry about her, Geto. She’s not a bad person. I can tell, I’m a great judge of character.” Haibara said, confidently. 

“I always kind of thought you were stupid, Haibara...” Everyone looked around as Satoru walked up to the group. “...but now it’s confirmed.” Satoru grinned, looking right at Suguru. 

They hadn't seen each other in a while. All the curses rattling around inside Suguru, in his gut, making him nauseous, keeping him up at night, seemed to settle down as he and Satoru made eye-contact.  

“Satoru.” Suguru said, just to say his name, “You’re being rude.” 

Satoru walked right past the strange woman and sat between Suguru and Haibara on the bench, spreading his legs annoyingly wide so that his knee pressed against Suguru’s. He put his arm around Suguru on the bench top behind him. 

More wild and cruel things settled in Suguru’s chest. 

“That’s okay, Geto. Gojo’s not a bad person either, y’know?” Haibara said, enthusiastic smile still firmly on his face. 

Poor, sweet, Haibara. A child born of summer and watching too much Power Rangers. Suguru bit back the impulse to shake his head pityingly and simply say “Haibara” again. 

He and Satoru exchanged a look. 

Suguru bumped his own knee against Satoru’s.

Be nice. 

Satoru grinned at him smug like a well-fed cat. 

“Well, I guess I’m out of here!” Haibara said, jumping up suddenly. “I’ve got to go meet up with Kento for our next mission. Don’t want to be late!” 

Before anyone could get out so much as a, “goodbye,” he was around the corner and out of sight. “He’s annoying.” Satoru said, but his smile was kind, “And so much energy. How does he do it? Hey, Suguru, were we that annoying when we were his age?” He leaned into him as he said it, pushing his face close to Suguru’s, like he was trying to monopolize his view. 

For a moment, Suguru was lost in thought. They had been that boyish at one time. What a difference a year could make.

“So,” the woman cut in, “Do you plan on answering my original question?” She said, smiling directly at Suguru. 

“What question?” Satoru asked, butting in. 

“Not until you answer my question first.” Suguru said.

“Suguruuuu what question?” Satoru said, poking Suguru’s arm, and then his cheek when Suguru ignored him. 

“Who are you?” He asked her, continuing to ignore Satoru as he started a barrage of pokes, with both hands now. 

“Don’t ignore me, Suguruuuu.”  

“Special Grade Sorcerer Yuki Tsukumo.” She said, striking another pose. “Does that name ring any bells?” 

“Suguruuu. Suguru. Suguru. Su-gu-ru.” 

Poke. Poke. Pokepokepokepokepoke. 

“Wait, so you’re her?” Suguru said.

That got Satoru’s attention. 

“Oh, I like the sound of that.” She said, beaming. “What have you heard?” She purred. 

Satoru had finally stopped poking Suguru and was staring at the side of his face instead as if he too was waiting, rapt, for Suguru’s answer. His stupid laser-beam eyes burning a hole in his cheek.  

“That you’re a special grade who never accepts any missions.” Suguru said, bluntly.

“Yea,” Satoru cut in, with relish, turning his stare on Tsukumo, “A real good-for-nothing. Who I heard has been wasting her time abroad.” He said, smiling his most angelic smile at her. 

Suguru couldn’t understand why he seemed to dislike her so much. Maybe they had history Suguru didn’t know about? 

“Man. I really hate Jujutsu High School.” She said, slumping suddenly. Clearly pouting. 

Suguru and Satoru exchanged another look. 

“I’m joking. Though it is true that I don’t get along with Jujutsu High’s policies.” She said, coming out of her slouch. Her tone suddenly more serious. 

That caught Suguru’s attention. 

“All they’re interested in is treating the symptoms of a problem.” She continued. “And I want to do something to treat the cause.”  

“You… want to treat the cause?” Suguru asked. 

Satoru was looking back and forth between Suguru and Tsukumo now. Probably annoyed they weren’t paying any attention to him. 

“Right. Except rather than hunting cursed spirits, I want to create a world where they don’t get born in the first place.” 

“I love cutting off my own nose to spite my face.” Satoru said, turning to Tsukumo with a smile fixed in its dulcet acidity. “Except I would never do that, because I’m not stupid, and also because I have a perfect nose. Don’t I, Suguru?” He turned again and started pushing his way into Suguru’s line of vision again, trying to get him to make eye contact, but Suguru wasn’t really paying attention. 

He leaned forward. Yuki Tsukumo had his full attention now. 

“Would you care to learn a little lesson?” She said, quirking her eyebrow like a challenge, once again looking directly at Suguru.

“Uhg. Boooooring.” Satoru said, drawing out the word obnoxiously. 

“Hush.” Suguru said, cupping one hand behind Satoru’s neck and the other over his mouth. 

Satoru licked his hand. 

“Satoru, that’s disgusting. He said, mildly, “Where are your manners in front of our guest?” Then pushed his hand harder into Satoru’s face, attempting to smother him.

Satoru flailed accordingly.

A brief scuffle ensued. 

“I can see you’re busy.” Tsukumo actually seemed a little irritated now. She didn’t have the same tolerance for the Satoru Gojo Effect as most people on campus. You had to build it up slowly. Like resistance to poison. “Maybe we can talk more about my research some other time, Geto?” 

“Like that’s going to happen.” Satoru said, finally managing to pull Suguru’s hand away from his mouth. 

A shame. His face had been turning the most lovely shade of purple, Suguru thought. 

He turned back to Tsukumo then, not really feeling apologetic for their behavior at all. 

“Yes. I’d like that.” He managed, giving her a charming smile. 

Satoru made a noise like cats fighting. 

“Maybe next time we can discuss things more privately.” Suguru could see Satoru’s hackles raising, inexplicably, from the corner of his eye. “And hey, maybe next time you’ll tell me what kind of women you go for.” She said, as she walked away, with a wink over her shoulder in Suguru’s direction. She did not, Suguru noticed, say “goodbye” to Satoru. 

“Blehhh.” Satoru stuck his tongue out and pulled the skin on his cheeks to make a ghoulish face at her back as she too disappeared around the same corner Haibara had earlier.

“Jeez, what a weirdo.” Satoru said casually, like he hadn't acted like a feral cat the entire time they had been talking. He leaned back, crossing his leg over his knee and placing his arm back on the bench behind Suguru's back.

It would be weird if Suguru leaned into it a little, right? He did it anyway.

They both sat there, not looking at each other, staring down the hallway instead.

“Did you know her?” Suguru asked. He was genuinely curious. 

“Never met her in my life. In fact, I still haven't met her. I refuse to have met her. Who are we talking about again?" Satoru said, in a rush.

Suguru pressed his fingers into the space between his eyes, which was sometimes the only correct response to anything Satoru said or did. 

Also, he was still extremely exhausted. 

"Besides,” Satoru said, finally becoming a little more serious, “you know what she was talking about, right? Genocide.” 

Suguru froze.

There it was, really. Laid out plainly in the space between them.

“C’mon. Have you had dinner yet? I’ll take you out to eat and point out all the many many reasons why Yuki Tsukumo is wrong. And why I’m always right.” Satoru said. 

Treating it like a game, a philosophical argument. Not like Tsukumo and by extension, Suguru, was entertaining mass genocide as any kind of viable solution.

Which, Suguru wasn’t, not really….

#satosugu #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto #satoru gojo #satosugu fic #fix it #jjk fix it #ficlet #jjk ficlet #might expand of this at a later time #my post #genocide mention #jealous!satoru #jealous!satorugojo

[kenjakusbrainstem]

Shall I Save You? (Kenjaku x Mahito)

Next Chapter: Trust.

The next to last prompt for Mahito Month, Fix-It! So I figured I would try and change every Mahito fans least favorite moment, Kenjaku swallowing him. I'm really proud of this so I hope it doesn't feel ooc, I kind of played with Kenjaku's abilities as he is very much my favorite canvas to paint. Let me know if you like, as I may post a part two! Reblogs & comment if you want, cross-posted to Ao3 and shared to twitter as kenjakusbrain.

Mahito’s mind was racing. He could feel himself growing weaker with every step he took away from the monster that Yuuji Itadoti had become. Though he was the one who insisted they were the same, the last thing he had expected was to become cornered like this. Running for his life, full of the very fear he loved to strike in humans.

His run was a fumbling one, the only thing keeping Mahito from tripping was the thought that maybe he could escape, if he could just find something…

Mahito’s heart jumped in his chest as he sensed the one person in the whole of Shibuya who could possibly help him. Through the blood running down his face he could hardly see ahead clearly. It was impossible to mistake the strange, jumbled soul in front of him though. Geto, he was here. Relief flooded Mahito’s body at the mere thought of getting out of this mess.

In that moment, he realized the bond that he shared with Geto, the reliance and relief he felt for the man. He truly was the same as Yuuji Itadori, putting all of his faith, his own life, in the hands of another person. Mahito should have felt disgust for the rush of emotion inside of him but the overwhelming thought of someone being here to save him won.

“Geto!” Mahito yelled, running toward the man. It was all he could muster at the moment as he tripped, landing directly in front of Geto. Looking up, Mahito couldn't quite make out the look on Geto’s face. It was a strange one, he looked excited, almost proud. As if all of this had worked out exactly as he wanted it to and he was relishing in the moment. 

Mahito shook his head as he knelt on the ground, having so suddenly come to terms with the humanity of the emotions inside him he couldn’t let himself believe that Geto wanted to see him like this. Or that Geto had somehow planned for him to end up on the receiving end of the destructive force that was Yuuji Itadori. 

“Shall I save you, Mahito?” the condescending words dripped smoothly from Geto’s lips as he continued to stare down at the curse. Mahito’s nature as a curse screamed inside of him to deny the assistance of a human, to just die here. However the one thing inside of Mahito that was stronger than his pride in being a curse, was his sense of self preservation. 

Mahito had never felt more at a loss for words in his entire existence, he could feel Itadori’s presence behind him, waiting to see what this new person would bring into the fold. He may be enraged at the moment, but he wasn’t an idiot. 

Reaching out his hand, Mahito silently pleaded with Geto to help him up, to save him in any way. Mahito knew that there was something Geto had been keeping from him in regards to his technique, he was a special grade curse user after all. There had to be some way he could help Mahito at a time like this. In the back of Mahito’s mind he wondered briefly if Geto would even want to save him, he had failed after all. 

The trust that Mahito had in Geto ran deeper than that, his strangely human feelings for the man after everything he’d taught or shown the juvenile curse boiled inside him. Geto would save him, Geto cared for him. He could be useful to Geto, even if that use was an experiment to be researched. All of these things Mahito wanted to say, to beg for his own life, but nothing came out of his panting lips.

Geto extended a hand down toward the curse, not quite far enough to reach his own. Mahito scrambled to move closer but froze when he felt something within himself being pulled toward the curse user. It felt indescribably painful, as if he were being unmade. Panic filled him again alongside desperation.

“Please, I'll do anything!” Mahito begged, a choked cry leaving his throat at a last attempt to persuade the man he trusted.

As quickly as the pain started, it stopped. Geto’s once open hand was now a tight fist. Mahito could see the force with which he held his palm shut by the bulging veins through the skin. 

For the first time in the entirety of the time Mahito had known Geto, he could see visible confusion on the man’s face. As if he had made a split decision without even realizing he had made it. As quickly as it appeared though, the doubt on Geto’s face was replaced with determination. Things had changed in a matter of seconds as Geto’s hand wrapped around Mahito’s wrist and he pulled the curse to his feet.

Immediately Geto pushed Mahito behind himself, shielding him with his own body. The curse stumbled as he was moved but steadied himself by holding onto part of Geto’s clothing, not unlike a toddler would hold onto a parent’s pant leg. 

Mahito felt Geto’s hands leave him at the same time that he felt a large crash before them, peeking over Geto’s shoulder he was able to see an impossibly deep hole in the ground where Itadori had stood previously. Was this Geto’s doing?

“Mahito, you’ve grown so strong, I need you to do something for me. Remember the talisman we used to help you detect Sukuna’s finger? Spread out your idle transfiguration into the earth and touch everything you detect with that energy. I will get you back to full strength. If you can’t do that for me, I’m afraid this will be it for us,” Geto spoke slowly. He hadn’t turned to face Mahito but the curse could feel the weight of Geto’s request upon his shoulders.

He would do anything. Mahito knew that he had reached a level of strength that he previously thought was impossible, so he felt confident that he could do what Geto was asking of him. Geto trusted him, it was a feeling Mahito hadn’t known he wanted. Some part of him, that was more human than curse, was rejoicing inside him at the surprising turn of events.

Mahito didn’t speak, he could still taste his own blood in his throat. He simply nodded against Geto’s back frantically, trying to make sure the man understood that he would do anything he needed. He was now indebted to Geto, not that debts meant much to curses, but Mahito definitely understood what it meant to owe someone for saving your life.

“Good, hold still while I rejuvenate your energy, I’ve never tried this on a curse before,” Geto said, as he focused his energy into something similar to reversed curse technique. Putting a hand behind his back and onto Mahito’s side he flooded the curse with his own energy. Mahito felt like water was pouring over his soul, bathing his very being in the essence of Geto’s energy. It felt cleansing and like torture at the same time somehow, like there wasn’t enough air to breath and standing in the suns warm light all at once.

Through the mesmerizing feeling of having his energy restored, Mahito registered that Geto was talking. It wasn’t to him though, he could also hear the voice of Yuuji Itadori somewhere in front of them. 

Suddenly the conversation stopped and Mahito felt Geto’s hand around him tighten, before he knew it they were moving together. Another crash from where they were just standing followed by Geto mentioning something about the usage of bullets against sorcerers. With his head buried in Geto’s back it was hard for him to understand exactly what was going on. 

The flow of energy into Mahito’s body slowed, leaving the curse feeling half replenished as he stood there. Dizziness from the sudden lack of energy caused him to lean more onto Geto’s body, which turned out to help as Geto whirled the two of them around, the feeling of a simple domain around them almost alarmed the curse. But before he knew it the feeling was gone, replaced by something more sinister.

“Maximum Uzumaki,” Geto said, his arms spread in reverence as Mahito felt the power coursing from the man he hid behind. Above them was a maelstrom of curses, twisting into a devastatingly powerful attack that landed somewhere in front of them. Mahito could only imagine being struck by it. He was awestruck, the strength that Geto had kept hidden from him, from all the curses, was astonishing. Had they known Geto was capable of this, Mahito wasn’t sure what it could have changed, but he did know that this surprise changed the way he saw the man.

After the attack landed Mahito felt the slow trickle of energy resume as Geto had stopped outwardly attacking with cursed energy. It wouldn’t take much longer until he would be back at full strength. Mahito tried to pay attention to what was happening around them as he regained his strength, but it was hard to follow when he wasn’t looking at those around them. It seemed they were surrounded by sorcerers, and yet Geto seemed to be unwavering in his confidence. 

The main part of the conversation Mahito managed to grasp onto was that ‘Geto,’ wasn’t exactly Geto. He also went by the name Norotoshi Kamo, which sounded oddly like one of the students he had heard the name of from Hanami while he was breaking into the school. It seemed there was a lot more to the man he had been working with than he had been previously aware of. Intrigued, Mahito couldn’t wait to talk to him about it later.

He hoped the man would trust him enough to share the truth, as he had trusted Geto with his life. 

Mahito was brought out of his thoughts by Geto suddenly moving him back around and out from behind his back, as if the curse were some secret weapon he’d kept hidden. Flexing his fingers, Mahito realized he was back at full strength, but before he could do as he pleased and go off to fight Yuuji Itadori, he felt Geto’s hand grip his shoulder tightly. Like some sort of tether between the two of them, the message was clear.

Dropping to the ground, and out of Geto’s grip, Mahito pressed both palms to the ground. He focused reaching his energy out as far as he could spread it, searching for the markers Geto had mentioned. There were so many of them, more than he could have ever imagined. As he used his technique he felt something in each of them change. For once Mahito had no idea what the use of his technique would do, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

“Come, Mahito,” Geto spoke, many curses around them prevented any of the sorcerers from approaching. This was their chance to escape. “Goodbye Yuuji Itadori, I expect much from you.”

#jjk #getomahi #kenjaku #mahito #shibuya arc #mahito month #jjk fix it #jujutsu kaisen

[kymsys]

what could've been. 💔🩹

#im not crying youre crying #this is fine #fixing it for gege #jjk #stsg #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu #jujutsu kaisen

[pseudowho]

I'm certain that just one "good girl" from Nanami Kento, would fix 95% of my problems.

#He could fix me #I don't want someone I need to repair #Kintsugi me Nanami #Repair me and make me golden #kento nanami #jjk #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x y/n #jjk nanami #nanami fluff

[bluebeesknees]

It’ll grow back

#Sipping some fix-it juice before bed y’all want some #my art #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk geto #satosugu #stsg #gego #jujutsu kaisen #digital art #doodle #sketch

[orochiposting]

“I can fix him dw” [drill sounds] {screaming} [chainsaw revving]

#i can fix him #madara uchiha #obito uchiha #naruto orochimaru #orochimaru #f/o #f/o community #imagine your f/o #sterling archer #adam hazbin hotel #rick sanchez #shigaraki tomura #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #professor stein #stein soul eater #mahito #mahito jjk #tag your faves #tag your f/o #hazbin vox #naruto akatsuki #akatsuki #hidan #hidan akatsuki #shitpost #text post #text #my text #800 notes

[savagegood]

"throughout heaven and earth, i alone am the honoured one": love an unhinged boy with pretty blue eyes

#HE'S HERE AND HE'S BEAUTIFULLLL. the epitome of I could fix him I could make him worse #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjkedit #jjk spoilers #flashing tw #gojo satoru #anime #long post

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

he’s staring.

in the corner of your eye lies a silhouette, a blur of black hair and sharp facial features. awfully hard not to notice, when he’s standing so close to you — gazing at you so intently. waiting for you to say something.

(resisting the urge to look at him directly is a struggle.)

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, something giddy and sweet flooding your veins. he’s just standing there. all while you tap at the keys of your laptop, trying to focus on your work. in vain.

because, inevitably, the rubber band of your patience snaps — and you can do nothing but give in to the temptation. feeling him shift from foot to foot, silent as a mouse. you turn your head.

suguru looks meek.

there he stands, tired eyes trailing over your facial features, before falling down to the floor. something about it makes you want to coo — almost like he’s a little flustered. fidgeting with his hands, wringing his long fingers together, so patiently waiting for your attention to fall on him. 

you swear you see the ghost of a pout slip into the curve of his lips. wearing a comfortable sweater, oversized and fluffy, framed by the obsidian of his hair; cascading down his shoulders like a black river. let loose, free to fall as it please, a signature sign that he’s tired.

and as soon as your eyes meet his, a certain something blossoms within the scope of his iris. peeling at the corners, slipping into the amber and cedar, an emotion you can’t quite place. would it be too tacky to call it love?

a giggle slips from your lips, dancing on the tip of your tongue. it’s soft, a little teasing, but who could blame you when he looks so cute? suguru, with his tall stature and broad shoulders, sharp eyes and intimidating presence, staring meekly in your direction. as if too embarrassed to ask for something, curling into himself.

”hey there,” you exhale, something amused laced into the vowels. ”everything okay?”

he averts his gaze. enamored with the smile on your face, the crinkle of your eyes, the melodic lilt of your sweet laughter. like peach blossoms and duvet covers, too soft for him to handle. far too sweet, the mere sight of you, all cozied up on the couch; legs crossed and laptop balanced on your thigh. 

(suguru wishes he could take its place.)

a tilt of your head beckons him to speak, and he can’t help but notice the remnants of something teasing in the gesture. he feels a little out of his element, almost shy, and it’s discomforting — but he’s just so tired. much too plagued by the need to be close to you.

he can live with a little teasing, if it’s you, only if it’s you. 

”what’re you working on?” he asks, delicate, soft voice flowing from his lips like melted honey. there’s a raspy tilt to it, a little scratchy. you smile, gaze drawn towards the screen in front of you.

”nothing much, just some essay. i’m almost finished.” a low sigh, as you lazily scroll through the text. suguru hums. when you look over at him, the smile on your face grows just a tad softer. ”did you need something?”

suguru stills. blinking drowsily, slow and awfully endearing, a flutter of his black lashes. absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his puffy sleeve. the silence lingers, a contemplation etched onto his features, until he clears his throat — still unable to look at you properly. 

(there’s only one thing he wants. needs. asking for it is just a little bit tough, though.)

patiently waiting, you begin to study his expression. second nature, to tuck his features in between your ribs, smoothe along the contours you’ve come to love so dearly. memorizing every dip and birthmark.

there’s a barely noticeable flush to his cheeks, a crimson smear that starts at his ears and only ever nips along his cheekbones, but it’s enough to let you know that he’s embarrassed. more than enough, seeing as his gaze won’t even land on you, seeing the fatigue beneath his eyes, the crease between his brows. something that sticks to his skin and drags him down. 

he has been a little stressed, lately. more so than usual. and you’ve noticed, of course you have — worriedly waiting for him to approach you, to let you help. winters are never very kind to him. 

he’s gorgeous, though, even like this. especially like this. sleepy, just a little unkempt, in his natural state. bare, somehow. like he just woke up, like the morning sun is kissing up his collarbone and he just made a cute little sleepy noise that you’re going to tease him for over breakfast. like he’s unguarded, at peace, safe in your arms.

it makes your heart soften considerably. crumbling at the corners, a pang of lovesick ache tugging at your fragile heartstrings.

and finally, you speak up. urging him to continue, gently, not wanting to rush him. ”well?” 

suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, just a little chapped. his tongue flits out to lick along the dry skin, and he does a little cough under his breath. you’re patient, waiting for him to speak, but it’s tough when all you want is to tug him close.

(you have an idea of what he’s going to ask you, what it is he wants. because you know him — and you want it too.)

”… can,” he starts, tentative. slow, as if he’s trying to swallow the embarrassment, gulp down the nervous flutter of his heartbeat. then he continues. ”i get a hug?”

finally, he looks at you; and your heart ricochets in your chest. amber eyes boring into yours, deep and warm, soft around the edges. kind of shy. 

a sharp intake of breath. you can’t help the grin that crawls up to your lips, and you can’t help the words that spill from them. ”gosh, you’re so cute.”

suguru turns away, with what you’re almost sure is a low grumble — buzzing in his throat, like a dragonfly itching to break out. he really does look meek, a little needy, so cute you’re afraid your lungs might collapse. when a chuckle pushes past your lips, the red tint on his neck and ears only seems to exacerbate. 

with swift movements, you close your laptop, plopping it down on the table in front of you. not wanting to waste any time, a little afraid that he’ll change his mind. ”of course you can,” you assure him, a soft lull of your tongue.

leaning back, you rest your head against a pile of cushiony pillows, melting into the couch beneath you. extending your arms; beckoning him close, into your embrace. the smile you grace him with is a little teasing, but mostly soft, inviting.

and suguru can’t resist it.

he still seems a little flustered, as he crawls along the couch, to take his rightful place in your arms. flopping down on top of you with a huff, like a big dog, cheek squished against your chest — eager to listen to the echo of your heartbeat. steady and soothing, a lullaby to his muddled mind.

a long, satisfied sigh escapes him, muffled into the fabric of your shirt. he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling a little further into your touch. slowly melting.

ah, he’s just too much. try as you might, you don’t fully manage to stifle the coo that laces the tip of your tongue. just admiring him, in the dim lighting of the room, all sleepy and content. that palpable fatigue, slowly dissipating. a soft groan slips from his lips when your hand goes to card through his hair, softly, nails raking over his scalp.

”my big baby,” you murmur, planting a kiss on the top of his head. suguru wants to grumble, protest a bit, but all he can do is soak in the words, the skip of his heartbeat that follows. ”everything okay?”

he nods. groggy, cheek against your soft chest. no longer able to hide his neediness, to muster the strenght, thoroughly soothed by the warmth that seeps from your body. from your veins to his. and he sighs, barely above a whisper. ”jus’ missed you.”

he must notice it, you think — the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat, something erratic in the decisive thumps of blood. a little louder than they should be. 

but if he does, he doesn’t mention it. only shifting a little in your arms, nuzzling further into your chest, relishing in the sensation of your hand in between his messy locks. so cozy. 

”i missed you too,” you echo, unable to fight off the sappy grin on your lips. so much affection in every caress, every soft glance. eager to be let out. ”’m sorry if i’ve been neglecting you.” 

suguru shakes his head — brushing off your guilt. always so willing to put your peace of mind before his. it only weakens you further, thoughts fuzzy with the image of him, the love that clouds your vision. how to properly convey it in words. 

”i’m always so proud of you,” you exhale, a little shaky. so earnest that you falter. a loud mantra of your heartbeat filling your ears, so much fondness stuffed inside your chest. ”working so hard. love you so, so much, honey.”

this time, it’s suguru’s heart that stutters and flails. reduced to a desperate instinct, something intimate and bare. the term of endearment slips off your tongue like it was always meant to be there, like that’s where it belongs, coupled with the soft sensation of your fingers ghosting over his skin. brushing away his bangs to smear a kiss against his forehead.

”i’m never gonna let you go,” you promise, unable to control the affection smeared into your voice. like you’d explode if you didn’t speak it out loud. ”my angel.”

”okay — that’s,” suguru croaks, before you can continue. exasperated, deeply embarrassed. at this point, he’s sure his face must be red, and he’s sure you can see it. despite his attempts to hide away in the crook of your neck. ”that’s enough.”

laughter bubbles up in your throat, sweet like osmanthus and whipped cream. giddy and teasing, in equal measure, sending a jolt of fondness running through his veins. ”are you embarrassed?”

”no,” he scoffs, too quickly. you both know he’s lying. it’s a rare treat, seeing him this flustered — how could you resist the urge to tease him a bit? 

”then why d’you want me to stop?” you grin, searching for his gaze. but suguru refuses to look at you.

”it’s just…” he mumbles, a string of tiny words. gnawing at his bottom lip. ”a little much, don’t you think?”

”i mean it, though.”

suguru groans, and a bout of giggles pushes past your lips. the smile on your face is starting to make your cheeks hurt, an achy kind of joy. yeah — suguru is just far too cute. he’s cute, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous. how could you keep yourself away?

reaching for a strand of his hair, you let it fall between your fingers. smooth and silky, brushing against your skin, soft and familiar. memories bloom from your fingertips, seeping into your subconscious; the first time he let you touch his hair, that content purr in his throat, the time you braided it as the world fell asleep around you. he takes good care of it, always has. attentive and delicate, almost as lovingly as he handles you.

a great surge of affection sprouts in between your ribs, spreading throughout every cell of your body, wholly engulfing you. it’s too much to bear.

a blissful sigh. you tilt your head, softly, a bleeding tenderness to every word you speak. and you do, with a sincerity to your voice that he’s never been able to handle. “is it really so strange if i want to give the love of my life some affection?” 

— and suguru’s resolve crumbles into dust. 

”… you’re,” he tries, a shiver of his weak voice. under normal circumstances, he could think of a suave reply, something to get the upper hand; but today, suguru happens to be very tired, and you seem awfully set on making him melt through the couch. ”— awful. you know that?”

his heart aches, when the bitter words make you giggle. a little sleepy. it makes him want to tuck you into his chest, hide you away inside his ribcage. kiss you breathless.

”so mean,” you pout, entirely fabricated. a heavy amusement lays thick on your tongue. “i’m professing my undying love for you here, y’know?”

”that’s exactly what i mean,” he sighs, unable to repress the slight smile on his lips. a little tug, that says more than his words ever could.

the laughter in your throat lingers, for a bit, until the intimacy of the moment softens you up. something tender and genuine in the depths of your eyes. ”i mean it, though. i’m not just teasing you.” 

your hand goes to cup his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. and then you’re leaning in, to press your lips against his forehead — pulling away with a drawn out mwah, a soft grin, a little boyish. terribly cute. 

”i really do love you,” you profess, a whisper. he believes you. “i love everything about you.”

a moment passes. the soft ticking of the clock fills the space between your words, and the scent of leftover curry and brewed coffee simmers in the faraway kitchen. wafting out into the living room. 

suguru places his hand over yours. a rough palm, always so gentle with you, slipping down to your wrist so he can hoist himself up. 

you blink. 

before you know it, he’s pressed his lips to yours, slow and methodical. tender, tender, tender. always. he sighs into the kiss, content, and your heartbeat quickens — he tastes like honey and rain.

when he pulls away, he’s smiling. a little lovesick.

”i love you too,” he hums, a soft purr that trails down your spine. he delights in the way you finally blush, cheeks warm beneath his heavy hands. ”so, so much.”

all you can do is stare, entirely transfixed. 

then you’re averting your gaze, and he’s stifling a soft bout of laughter, and something warm and wonderful blooms in the nearly non-existent space between you. his cheek finds itself pressed against your chest, again, allowing the soft and rapid thumping of your heartbeat to carry him away.

an anchor for him to hold on to, his lighthouse at the end of a murky ocean. it’s always, always there — that soft mantra of thump, thump, thump.

(he can’t tell you how many times it’s saved him.)

”… you can’t do stuff like that when my guard is down,” you murmur, after a moment. sheepish. ”what if my heart explodes?” 

suguru only chuckles, sleepy and raspy, the same as ever. he turns his head to press a kiss against the fabric of your shirt, right above your heart, a kind of cheeky, soft apology that you know he doesn’t actually mean. 

(he could never feel sorry for telling you how much he loves you; no matter how flustered you get.)

and, at last, suguru thinks the fatigue clinging to his soul may have slipped off entirely. substantially. soothed by your presence, your very being. 

it’s embarrassing, being so very doted on, being so painfully unaccustomed to it. but suguru could never hate it. he could never hate a single thing you do to him, grant him with, from your soft touches and cheeky kisses to the burnt pancakes you worked so hard on. 

he’d rather die than deny you. 

so he has no choice but to bask in it; the feeling of your hands in his hair, nails on his scalp, breath against his skin. the change you’ve brought into his life. bringing with you the fading scent of peach blossoms and chewing gum, sweetness and softness. happy dreams.

yeah, that’s right. he has no choice but to melt into your touch, nuzzle into your chest, fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. 

no choice at all.

#didnt have time to write a full fic this week </3 so mindless fluff drabble it is!! #hes sooo babygirl perhaps even more babygirl than gojo #not really. but its close!! #ive said this abt gojo too but being babied really WOULD fix sugu #he needs his hair brushed + chest squished + forehead kissed + etc etc. i volunteer!! dw guys ill handle it #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

[system-to-the-madness]

Taiyaki and Bike Rides - Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

SPOILERS for up to Chapter 240 (just to be sure)

Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) AU: post-war!AU, Everybody(ExceptSukuna)Lives!AU Genre: fluff Word Count: 4 481 Warnings: Spoilers for up to chapter 240, mentions of curses, death etc., fix-it, everybody lives Summary: Tired after a mission, you get stuck in a convenience store while it rains. Luckily Megumi turns up to save the day.

When the first raindrops hit your skin, you decided that today was officially shitty. First Gojō-sensei had woken you up at dawn – far too cheerful for this early hour in your opinion – and sent you on a mission to exorcise a house full of curses.

It had been an abandoned school building at the edge of town, and the curses had gained power over the years, making them dangerous to the neighboring houses, which was why they needed to be taken care of. You had spent all morning with the mission, taking almost two hours to get there in the buzz of the Tokyo morning rush hour, and when you finally felt the last curse vanishing, the sun had risen past its late autumn zenith.

Your stomach was grumbling in frustration with you, having seen no food since the bowl of rice you had quickly shoveled into your mouth before heading out to the mission, so you had planned on getting some ramen before heading home. You couldn’t help but picture Megumi’s frown if he were to find out that you hadn’t eaten properly. He always seemed to look out for you, and you could not help the little images of his face that sometimes flickered through your mind.

You had almost reached the ramen shop you had decided on, when Nobara had sent you a list with things she asked you to get for her, once she heard you were in the city. You ended up searching for the stupid perfume she had asked you to buy for over two hours, still not having eaten anything. At this point you had decided to just find her stuff, take the train home, buy something in the closest convenience store and head back to the dorm. Secretly you wished Megumi would magically stumble into you so you wouldn’t have to ride the train all on your own, surrounded by groups of other students who all made their way home in groups. You didn’t look so different from them, you thought. Your uniform was just a bit dustier, and there was this rip in your blouse you had covered up with your jacket.

When you had made it on the train (which would only get you so close to the school), two stations away from where you had to get off, Yūji had sent you a message, panicking about the group assignment he had forgotten about. You didn’t know who you were more disappointed in: Yūji for forgetting it, or yourself, having done everything on your own, knowing he’d forget it. The thought of Megumi’s reaction once he’d hear about this – bonking Yūji on the head with his pencil case and sending you a reprimanding look – put a small smile to your face. After you had finally made it to the train station closest to the school, and gotten out of its long, tiled corridors, you were aching to get home as quickly as possible. Only for the rain to pick up.

It was November, no unusual time for rain, and any other day you would have admired the drops hitting the yellow leaves of the gingko trees and the red ones of the maple trees that lined the street left and right. But today you only worried about the rain penetrating your uniform and making you feel cold and even more miserable than you already did.

You knew that seeking shelter in the convenience store would draw out your trip, but not feeling like getting soaked to the core, you hurried the last steps into the familiar shop. The cashier greeted you absent mindedly, as you shook a few drops out of your hair. It had been a while since you had looked through the shelves, and since you were stuck here now, with nothing better to do, you went on to inspect the few shelves of food and living supplies.

The sight of the onigiri in the refrigerator shelf reminded you of how hungry you were, so you grabbed two, along with a bag of rice crackers and the latest edition of the manga publishing magazine, before stopping in front of the shelve with the sweets, automatically reaching for the white chewy taiyaki with chocolate cream filling. Whenever Megumi and you headed to the convenience store together, he treated you to this, and over time it had started becoming your favourite treat, so you even bought it when you went to the store without him, just because it reminded you of him.

You had almost grabbed the taiyaki, when you suddenly stopped, your eyes falling to the normal taiyaki with custard filling, which you had always had before getting closer with Megumi, and suddenly you questioned why you never bought these anymore. The answer was simple: because you felt closer to Megumi when you ate the white taiyaki. You tried to create a closeness that was not there, something you wished for, but knew would only ever happen in your dreams.

You sighed, dropping your hand back to your side, deciding against a sweet treat for once, and headed to the register to pay for the goods you had grabbed.

After paying, you sat down in one of the seats by the window, the one furthest away from the door, slapping the thick weekly manga magazine on the surface of the table. Unwrapping your first onigiri, you flipped through the thin, coloured pages, searching for the continuation of the series you had followed over the past year. Your eyes flickered over the pages, stopping occasionally to take in a more detailed drawing of your favourite character while absentmindedly chewing on the onigiri. The door to the shop rang a few times with new customers entering, each ring of the bell followed by the mechanic “Irasshaimase” of the shop keeper.

Outside wind was throwing rain drops against the window, and even though the shop itself was warm, you shivered at the sound of the autumn weather. You had just reached the last page of the manga, when suddenly a white, chewy taiyaki in its clear plastic wrapper got thrown right onto the page you had been about to finish reading.

Startled, you looked up, eyes meeting familiar blue ones, as Megumi slipped into the seat next to you. Questioningly he raised his eyebrows at you as stared at him in surprise.

“Gojō sent me to come look for you,” he explained at your confused expression. “He thought you’d be back from your mission sooner and got worried.”

“Gojō-sensei and worried,” you asked.

Megumi shrugged. “Maybe he developed a consciousness. Here for you.” He slid a paper cup with hot chocolate over. “Careful, it’s hot.”

You smiled thankfully, and wrapped your cold fingers around the warm paper, before you brought the cup up to your lips to take a tiny sip.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“I didn’t. I just wanted to grab something to eat on my way to the train station to go where Gojō sent you,” Megumi answered, while watching you struggle with the tough material of the clear packaging of the taiyaki he had thrown on your manga. “Imagine my surprise when I found you here. Did you spend all this time reading manga and eating onigiri?”

“Joke as much as you like,” you grumbled, your fingers slipping of the plastic wrapper without tearing it. “Nobara heard I was in the city and sent me her shopping list.” You nodded to the paper bags next to your chair. “Had me running around Shinjuku for hours.” With a small sigh you dropped your hands back to the table, still holding the tightly sealed taiyaki package. If Megumi hadn’t been here, or you hadn’t been as exhausted from the day, you’d probably tear it open with your teeth. But not now.

“You’re too soft,” Megumi sighed, reaching over. His warm fingers brushed against your cold ones, his skin rough and his hand so much bigger than yours, taking the taiyaki package. Effortlessly he ripped it open before handing it back to you. His fingers left tingling traces where they brushed against yours, the almost subconscious action of opening your packaged food for you making your heart race. “Itadori also said you finished the teamwork for him. You have to be careful the others don’t use you.”

“Says the guy who buys his classmate hot chocolate and taiyaki,” you raised your eyebrow at him challengingly, while biting into the treat.

Megumi’s eyes stayed fixed on you, on the way you chewed on the treat he bought you, and you were wondering what he was thinking about.

“This is different,” he insisted, and finally he averted his gaze, opting to stare out of the window instead, while opening his own taiyaki, one with custard filling. You asked yourself why he’d chosen that one for himself this time.

For a while you sat in silence, finishing your sweets and drinking the hot chocolate he’d bought for the two of you. The sky outside the window was slowly brightening, rain having almost stopped, only a slight drizzle now, and sun beams, already lowering towards the horizon, poked through the clouds. Wind carried fallen leaves in gold and red across the parking lot, and you suddenly longed for a time when curses were nothing but a few bad words, when your eyes had still seen the world in all its innocence. But the anniversary of Megumi getting possessed by Sukuna today, and somehow you felt it weight down on you. It’s been almost eleven months since Sukuna was defeated, but the memories of that time still haunted you. You wondered if Megumi felt the same.

“Let’s go home,” Megumi interrupted your thoughts, but the side glance he’s throwing you made you suspect he felt that your thoughts had begun spiralling.

You grabbed your manga and shoved it into your backpack, before taking your garbage and the paper bags for Nobara, and followed Megumi outside the shop. He held his hand out for the empty paper cup and the food wrappers, and you handed them to him, watching as he disposed of them in the bin in front of the shop.

“My bike’s here,” he motioned over to the side of the parking lot. He’d gotten a new bike since last year, a belated birthday present by Gojō. Nobody was entirely sure why Gojō felt the need to get Megumi a new bike, the old one still in perfect condition and somewhat more Megumi than the new one with its basket at the handlebars and the luggage carrier in the back. “Give me your bags.”

It was not a question, but a request, and wordlessly you handed over the paper bags you’d been carrying. Somehow you couldn’t help but notice how Megumi had developed a habit of taking stuff from you: your garbage, your bags, at school when you were carrying books, he helped you with them as well… He also held doors open for you, made sure he was walking on the side of the street when you were walking on the pavement, grabbed your jacket whenever you were approaching a red traffic light or a cross walk, as if to keep you from running into the street.

You were deep enough in your thoughts, that you did not notice he had placed all the paper bags in the basket and had reached his hand out again.

“Backpack, come on,” he encouraged you, once again tearing you out of your thoughts.

Hurriedly you shrugged off the backpack with the weapon you had used on the mission this morning and thanked him quietly.

“Don’t worry,” he shrugged it off, before he unlocked his bike and got on.

You were about to start walking towards the exit of the parking lot, thinking he would ride next to you, while you walked, when he called for you.

“Where are you going?”

“Home? Back to the school,” you answered, turning to him confused.

“I thought we’d ride back,” he questioned, motioning to the luggage carrier. “It’s not really comfortable, but we won’t take long.”

For a moment you stared at him, trying to process his offer. Sitting on the luggage carrier would make you sit very close to him, and you’d probably have to hold onto him during the ride. It’d be a lie if you were to claim you had not imagined situations like this, but to be faced with them actually becoming a possibility was an entirely different matter. Your heart raced in your chest, and you watched the autumn wind tuck at Megumi’s black hair. It was shorter than last year around this time, not as short as Yūji’s but shorter than it had been. You liked the new length.

Megumi seemed to take your silence as a rejection, because his shoulders dropped ever so slightly. “Of course we can just-”

“Okay,” you interrupted him, and he perked up as you wandered back over to him. “But just so you know, I’ve never done this before and if we fall off the bike it’s on you.”

“Thanks for trusting me to crash us,” Megumi rolled his eyes at you. “Come on now, climb on.”

You did as he asked, and swung a leg over the luggage carrier. The bike was a bit too high for you, only one foot making contact with the ground as you sat down. Megumi had been right, it was not very comfortable, but you had imagined it to be worse.

“You need to hold onto me,” Megumi instructed, but his voice had lost its edge from before, sounding a little softer now.

You barely had time to react before he righted the bike, your second foot loosing contact to the ground as well, and quickly you wrapped your arms around Megumi’s waist holding onto him while he pushed off the ground and began pedaling. His chest rumbled underneath your touch, and you could have sworn he chuckled at your reaction.  The first few meters were a little unstable, but by the time you had made it halfway across the parking lot, Megumi was riding in a straight line. He was going slower than he usually would have, but you didn’t find it in you to mind. This would gibe you a little more time to keep your arms around him.

As Megumi steered the bike down the street, you began relaxing into the situation. The autumn air was cool around you, wind carrying fallen leaves over the pavement, puddles reflecting the clouds. The sky had taken a pink shade by now, and the rain had almost completely stopped. Only a fine spray, not even real droplets, drifted through the air, sometimes accompanied by heavier drops that fell from the leaves of the golden ginkgo and red maple trees that lined the street.

The wind was sending a chill down your spine, even with Megumi’s body warming your front through the layers of both of your uniforms. Hesitating for a moment, wondering if he would mind, you finally opted to lean your cheek against his back. Underneath your touch, you felt his body working. Muscles in his torso were shifting from where he was cycling, his even breathing caused his chest to expand and contract, and over the rushing of wind in your one ear, you could even hear his heartbeat with the other. You didn’t want this moment to end, and so you closed your eyes, trying to focus better on the other sensations; the sound of his heartbeat and his breaths, the motions of his body and the warmth it provided against the fine spray of rain in the chilly autumn evening, the scent of him, clinging to his clothes, and the taste of the taiyaki that kept lingering on your tongue. Thinking back to the taiyaki, you remembered how he had chosen a normal one, while giving you the white one. Usually he bought the same for both of you, but lately he had more often opted for the custard taiyaka. Maybe today there had only been one of the white ones left? Or maybe he had had enough of the chocolate filling and preferred the custard now.

“Rainbow. On our left.”

You felt his voice more as a rumble in his chest, than you heard it, and reluctantly you blinked your eyes open. Megumi was right. As you were riding over a bridge, a rainbow was visible in the sky, hanging between two mountains, it’s colours vibrant against a dark rain cloud. Red and golden leaves drifted through the air, a denser spray of rain hitting you, as you held tightly onto Megumi’s warm body. The scene felt like it was straight out of a movie, and you wished life would always be so simple: having someone who took care of you, who let you hold onto them, while nature around you provided you with its wonders.

Even though Megumi had been riding for a few minutes, you realized you had not made it as far as you had assumed, while keeping your eyes closed. In fact, Megumi was going really slowly, drawing out the inevitable arrival at your destination. The realization made you smile a little, and you nuzzled your cheek a bit closer to his back, drawing a little hum from him, which got carried away in the wind, but its vibration rumbled gently against your ear.

Eventually the rainbow disappeared behind the next mountain, but you kept your eyes closed, instead watching trees and the last houses pass by, before you entered the last stretch of the way, where you were surrounded by nothing but forest. You passed the entrance to an inari shrine, the red tori seeming to almost glow in the twilight. And eventually you reached the steps that would lead up to the school.

Megumi slowed down the bike. “Okay, careful now,” he warned as he stopped, placing his feet on the ground, and tilting the bike slightly so you could get off. Hesitantly you lifted your cheek away from his back, your arms slowly falling away from around him. Immediately the cold evening air began soaking through the fabric of your uniform. Without the warm rays of the sun, it got cool quickly this late in the year, and with exhaustion slowly setting in, the cold got to you even quicker, especially after the loss of Megumi’s body heat.

You watched him lock his bike, and before you could protest, he had shouldered your backpack and grabbed most of the paper bags you had bought for Nobara.

“I can take my own stuff,” you mumbled with a pout, as you took the remaining paper bags out of the basket, carrying them with one hand, while following Megumi who had already begun climbing the stairs. With the other hand you reached out for Megumi to give you the bags to carry.

“I know you can,” he answered. He stopped, looking over his shoulder, his eyes skipping to your hand that was stretched out for the paper bags, before turning to face the stairs again. “But you don’t have to.”

Blindly he reached behind himself, his free hand meeting yours, and his warmer fingers wrapped around your cool ones, before he continued walking.

You thought your heart had stopped in your chest, as you walked up the stair, half a step behind Megumi, your fingers growing a little warmer in his grip. Had he thought you had wanted him to take your hand? Well, you didn’t mind, not at all, but he had to think you were weird, right?

“I meant for you to give me the bags, you know,” you mumbled, knowing your voice was so quiet that he could easily pretend to have missed it over the sound of the wind in the bamboo.

“I know,” Megumi answered, sounding indifferently. “You can always pull away if you don’t like me holding your hand.”

Surprised you blinked at him, knowing he couldn’t see your reaction. His words were as cool and collected as always, but there was a hint of nervousness in his voice. A hint of nervousness that gave away that he was not at all as confident about the whole situation as he tried to appear to be. It made you wonder if he had also been nervous during the bike ride, maybe even as nervous as you had been. But if he was nervous… what did that mean? Was there maybe a chance…

You pushed the thought out of your head, deciding to instead focus on the moment, feel his slightly rough fingers around your hand, inhale the fresh air, and be happy that you still got the chance to experience this with him. Even today, almost a year after the war had ended, it still scared you to think how close you had been to losing him.

When you reached the top of the stairs, Megumi abruptly stopped and turned around. Following his line of sight, your breath caught in your throat. Before you lay Tokyo. You always forgot how high up Jujutsu High was actually build, and it still surprised you how quickly you had gotten used to the many stairs leading up here. In the distance, the setting sun was reflecting in millions of windows, some of which already lit up with lights behind them. From up here everything seemed so calm. There was no sign of the people that bustled about in these streets, no city noise that hammered down on your ears relentlessly, only wind in the branches of trees which’s leaves had taken on the warm colours of the sunset before you.

For a while Megumi and you stood at the top of the stairs, looking down over the land opening up before you, hands still intertwined. Within minutes the warm pinks and oranges of the sunset turned into purples and blues before the colours faded into the grey of night. The lights of the city begun twinkling brighter, as heavy clouds begun dragging themselves over the sky, hiding any stars from sight.

A cold gust of wind made you shiver, and the spell was broken, pulling Megumi and you back into the moment. You wanted to suggest hurrying back to the school, to get inside and get warm, but Megumi spoke first.

 “Gojō didn’t actually send me to find you,” he suddenly confessed, making you look over to him. His fingers tightened around yours. “He wasn’t worried about you, I was. You’d been gone the whole day, and all I could think was that something might have happened to you, and that you were laying somewhere, bleeding out, by yourself, and- I just had to make sure you were okay.”

You let his words sink in for a moment before you smiled. You wanted to say something, reply, but he continued.

“And when I saw you through the window at the convenience store, I just- I don’t know the last time I felt such relief at anything.”

“If it’s any consolation, I was never in any real danger,” you let him know, squeezing his hand back.

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. It’s just- after everything that’s happened, I sometimes worry that I’ll lose everyone I still have left. I sometimes get this irrational fear and… what I’m trying to say is that I can’t lose you. Just can’t. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“You won’t lose me, I promise.” You squeezed his hand again, hoping that the expression on your face was one of reassurance, even when Megumi’s eyes were still trained on the city before you.

“Not even when I ask you to go out with me?”

It took you a few seconds to process your surprise and excitement at his question, but then you shook your head. “Pretty sure this does the exact opposite of losing me,” you teased, and finally a smile tucked at Megumi’s lips.

“Tomorrow after school then? For coffee?” He turned to face you, his midnight blue eyes sparkling with held-back excitement, but also relief and a hint of nervousness.

“It’s a date,” you grinned at him, watching his eyes widen and shining as if a light shone from within them.

The motion was quick, as he lifted your intertwined hands up to his face and pressed his lips against the back of your hand in a quick hand kiss, that made your cheeks burn and his tint an adorable pink. His lips left a warm imprint on your skin, and when he pulled back, not being faced with any sort of negative reaction, the last bit of nervousness seemed to melt away and he smiled at you.

“Wanna go home,” you asked, unable to tear your eyes away from the way he was looking at you. Megumi was usually very guarded with his emotions, rarely letting on what he was thinking or how he was feeling, especially when he was happy. But now his expression was soft and warm, making your hearth flutter in your chest. You liked the way he looked right now. Not just because it was directed at you, but also because it showed you that he was happy. And he deserved it more than almost anyone else you knew.

“Yeah,” Megumi breathed, “Let’s go home.”

Together you turned to walk down the paved way that led to the school, lined with stone lanterns. Megumi tucked you as close to him as possible with the paper bags you were both carrying, excusing his action with a “you’re shivering”, but really you both knew he just wanted to be close to you. You didn’t steal him the illusion of needing an excuse, just let him tuck you close against his side, inhaling his familiar scent and bathing in the warmth he radiated.

There were many walks like this to follow, even though you didn’t know it yet. Many more, countless more times when Megumi would tuck you into his side, always a lame excuse at the tip of his tongue just to hide how desperate he was to feel you by his side. There would be so many times you stood together at the top of the stairs and looked out over Tokyo, so many times, years’ and years’ worth of him taking hold of your hand, or you of his, always ending with a kiss to the back of the other’s. There would be so many times where he picked up you from somewhere with his bike, just so you could ride on the luggage carrier and wrap your arms around him, and there’d be a whole lifetime worth of taiyaki he bought for you. But there’d be only one time he’d reveal he had started eating the custard taiyaki because he knew you liked them, and he had started preferring them, because they made him think of you.

#fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #megumi x reader fluff #jjk fix it #fix it fic #mad fluff #mad jjk #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk spoilers #jjk x reader #jjk #everybody lives AU

[sukeyumei]

🇲🇾

#anime art #anime fanart #anime and manga #digital art #digital drawing #doodle #anime #jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk fix it #JJK

[thislittlecowcanfly]

Senseis who like to go on lunch dates

#satosugu #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk art #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk geto #jjk gojo #artists on tumblr #the fix-it art to heal my wounds #my art

[kenjakusbrainstem]

Trust (Kenjaku x Mahito)

Sequel to Shall I Save You?

This is the last prompt for Mahito Month, and its been so much fun writing with intention all month! Having prompts and deadlines really helps me focus my creative energy, and to put all of that into my favorite pairing was so enjoyable. I really loved exploring their relationship and the idea of them interacting with each other after Shibuya following my Fix-It fic. Hopefully it doesn't seem too rambling! Cross-posted to Ao3 and shared to twitter as Kenjakusbrain.

Mahito had been many places with the curses and Geto but they were often places in nature, like forests or hot springs. It wasn’t often that he ventured into places filled with sorcerers without trying to conceal his presence, so following behind Geto as they made their way through the Kamo Clan Residence was somewhat surreal.

He’d never seen Geto use his powers the way he was in this moment. Knowing that he had some sort of mind altering ability all along was astonishing. Mahito was surprised how many people were calling Geto ‘Noritoshi Kamo’ after just one glance. This ability could have been so helpful in regards to the things they’d planned in Shibuya. Though it seemed the majority of their planning had been but a simple cover for whatever Geto’s actual plan was.

Mahito followed along like a lost puppy, he felt fairly weak despite Geto healing him and somehow rejuvenating all of his energy. It was as if the Idle Transfiguration that he’d used for Geto in that moment had taken up nearly all of his strength again in just one motion. While Geto had brought him along upon escaping Shibuya, they hadn’t had a moment of rest for Mahito to gain his energy back or even for Geto to help him get energy back either. 

The curse didn’t often feel weak, but after his fight with Itadori and needing to hide behind Geto just to survive, he was at a loss.

However, Mahito also was feeling strangely thankful, without Geto he would have been killed by Itadori most likely. If it hadn’t been for the bond he’d formed with Geto, the man likely would have killed him in front of Itadori. He’d had the thought earlier that evening that he trusted Geto, but it seemed like the man he trusted was someone he didn’t know at all. Between the abilities the man kept secret, his identity, and the fact that Geto had almost killed him, Mahito didn’t know what to think.

All of these thoughts had been consuming Mahito for the duration of their journey to the Kamo Clan Residence. It wasn’t that he didn’t often find himself wondering about the differences between humans and curses or the philosophy of life and death in general, but he did wonder what it was that made Geto keep him alive if that wasn’t a part of his original plan. 

He remembered so vividly the look of confusion on Geto’s face, staring down at him as if Mahito had said something so unexpected. Mahito wondered how it was so unfathomable that he would beg for his own life, when everything he had done up until that point had been to continue growing as a curse?

Lost in thought, Mahito had barely noticed that Geto had led him into a room at the end of a hallway that seemingly was their destination. It wasn’t long before Mahito felt hands on his shoulders, moving him into a sitting position as if the curse was nothing more than a doll. Looking up, Mahito once again saw Geto looking down at him, though this time his eyes held no confusion in them at all. 

“I’m assuming you have questions, Mahito,” Geto asked, the tone of his voice no different than any other time he had needed to explain something to the curse. As if nothing had changed at all in the last several hours.

Mahito was unsure where to start. He wanted to ask many questions, about their plans, Geto’s own plans, the status of the other curses, and why he felt such strange and clearly human emotions within himself. His mind was foggy and he had no way of anticipating any of the answers Geto would give him. Things had devolved into chaos quicker than he could have ever imagined. One question stood out to Mahito above anything else.

“Who are you?” Mahito asked, the easiest of all the questions. Mahito knew there was more to the man that called himself Geto ever since he’d seen the mouth resting in the soft tissue of his brain.

Following Geto’s movements with his eyes, Mahito watched as the man sat down across from him, a soft smile still on his face. They appeared to be in a study of some sort, both seated in plush chairs that even Mahito acknowledged would be great for reading in.

“Why, I told you my name is Geto Suguru,” Geto said, a cheshire cat grin spreading across his face. “At least that’s the name for this body. It’s been a while since I’ve told someone new my name, but it is Kenjaku. You do know me a bit better than the last person I told, as they found out I wasn’t who they thought a little too late.”

The name was one Mahito had never heard before, Geto, or Kenjaku however wasn’t one to let all of his cards show at once. So the slow reveal of his identity wasn’t that much of a surprise to the curse. Though this name didn’t feel quite right either, he did remember Choso calling him by another name. Kenjaku seemed like he was in the mood to explain himself, or at least answer a few questions, so Mahito wracked his tired brain for more.

“But didn’t Choso call you Noritoshi Kamo? And hey while we’re at it, didn’t he say you were his father?” Mahito asked, his questions lacking the thoughtfulness he’d meant them to have. He sounded more like a confused child than a special grade curse.

Kenjaku chuckled at the wording of Mahito’s questions. It was no surprise that the curse wasn’t as articulate as he normally was, since he hadn’t expected Mahito could follow the conversation he’d shared with Choso earlier. At that point, Mahito was on death's door, so he didn’t mind catching the curse up to speed. Part of him was almost excited to tell him the truth, it wasn’t often that Kenjaku could trust someone enough to be honest about his identity. 

“Kamo, like Geto, is just the name of a person who’s body it was convenient for me to use. Without Geto’s body, our Shibuya plan never would have worked, and without Kamo’s body, I wouldn’t have been able to experiment as much with the Cursed Womb Death Paintings,” Kenjaku explained. He was surprisingly patient when speaking with Mahito. 

This actually didn’t surprise Mahito very much. Kenjaku was very knowledgeable about the Death Paintings, the curse had honestly considered him to be obsessed with them. This made much more sense though, it was his own experiment so of course he looked to perfect it by way of using a better curse. Some part of Mahito was proud, beyond being useful, to know that he was better than other curses did brighten his mood.

Mahito nodded, he didn’t need to get into the motives behind Kenjaku’s actions, he just was curious to know the man he’d grown close to. It was strange for Mahito, while there was always something off about him that the curse just couldn’t put his finger on, knowing he was a completely different person was strange. He didn’t feel betrayed, as this wasn’t something Kenjaku was keeping from him specifically, but knowing the intense human emotion of trust inside of him had been tested made Mahito wary.

“Were you going to kill me?” Mahito asked, an uncharacteristically somber tone filled his voice. He had truly felt like he had been at the cusp of death, finding himself alive at Kenjaku’s feet had been a surprise even once he realized the faith he’d had in the man.

Tilting his head to the side, Kenjaku observed Mahito. While he had expected the curse to have questions, he had expected them to be about what the plan was or where the other curses were. This question surprised him more, Kenjaku pondered just how it felt for a curse to have Curse Manipulation used on them. Perhaps he would have to find another sentient curse to test it on. Mahito had made too much of an impact on him to be used like that.

“I was just going to borrow your ability for a while. I wasn’t sure how much strength you had left and Idle Transfiguration was needed for my years of planning to come to fruition,” Kenjaku said. It wasn’t a lie so much as it was an omission of the truth, Mahito didn’t need to know the extent he would have gone to in securing the beginning of the culling games. “You’re too important to lose, you’re essentially the only one I can trust to stay and help me fill the world with chaos. Everyone else is too self serving, I know you want the same future I do.”

Mahito once again found himself pondering his feelings as a curse. After being forced to face the truth that he would put his life in Kenjaku’s hands, Mahito had barely had any time to think about just what that meant. The humanity in his emotions made the curse uncomfortable, but it had been what saved his life. The bond between the two of them was stronger than he’d expected. If Kenjaku trusted him as well, perhaps he wouldn’t mind continuing to work with the man. 

Kenjaku patted the empty space next to him on the chaise lounge. Part of Mahito wanted to stay put indignantly, he hated to be ordered around after all. Before Mahito could think to turn his nose up at the man, he found himself slowly migrating from one side of the room to the other. The seat was soft, reminding Mahito of how comfortable it was to just sit in the sand. 

An arm quickly found its way around Mahito’s shoulder, Kenjaku turning the curse so that they were facing each other. Their eyes met for a moment, but Kenjaku’s stare was too intense. Mahito’s eyes lifted to stare at the stitches in his forehead.

“What if I don’t want to work with you? I’m not going to let you control me just because you saved me,” Mahito pouted. The conflict inside him had already nearly died out, but Mahito wanted to be clear that he still didn’t want to be used. Creating chaos with the man did sound fun, if he could grow stronger and get to play with more humans Mahito would sign up for nearly anything. 

Kenjaku chuckled softly, his other hand coming up to cradle Mahito’s cheek. He had always found Mahito’s self serving nature endearing, the curse reminded him more of a lover playing hard to get every day. 

Mahito’s words were betrayed by his own body, pliant and welcoming of Kenjaku's touch. The man tilted Mahito’s face up, moving their lips ever closer together. 

“I’ll make it worth your while, all you have to do is trust me,” Kenjaku whispered before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the curse’s lips. Mahito immediately melted in Kenjaku’s arms, kissing the man back at a pace that the curse let him set. 

They could talk more about what Kenjaku had in store for the future later. Now was a time to celebrate a successful plan, what better way than to get lost in each other?

#getomahi #kenjaku #mahito #jjk #jjk fix it #jujutsu kaisen

[duckiemimi]

gojo in jjk 236

i’m not one to advocate for prying away creative control from a creator’s (mangaka’s) cramped, overworked hands, and i understand that with oftentimes fandoms get so big that the story warps itself into something out of the creator’s control, but i do know what a good character arc looks like (i’ve seen it in this very story before) and i do know what public pressure can do to a creative mind.

that being said, keeping gojo dormant for more than a hundred chapters, then unsealing him only for him to gain nothing from his long-drawn out fight with sukuna is insane. i was assuming we were building up stakes in his character arc! i didn’t think he’d die prematurely without resolution! how could he be given a meaningless death when it was all he and geto talked about at one point?

gojo could’ve been living proof that change is possible and that fate is breakable. he was born after multiple cycles of six eyes and limitless users, he was born a baby-shaped building block, jujutsu’s atlas with the world on his shoulders. alone and untouchable. but he changed because he met geto. he changed because he met shoko, because he met megumi and yuuta and yuuji and every single character that has loved and cared about him. love changed him. to be loved is to be changed, and to have him go without an ending line to, “this is just a personal theory, but love is the most twisted curse of them all,” is such a loss. it’s like a sentence without a full-stop, abruptly cut short with no continuation.

i initially thought that he’d be weakened by sukuna, but then his allies would come running to back him up—there is strength in solidarity! his true strength should’ve stemmed from solidarity and love! interdependence and connection should’ve been the peak of his character arc! why did we end up with nothing even after tens of chapters of him fighting for his life? why did every other character sit still instead of using their advantage in numbers?

but i do see where gege is headed. with gojo gone, the baton has been passed onto the next generation. there is no longer a biological “hierarchy” of power amongst the sorcerers (to an extent), and perhaps sukuna himself will falter because the balance of the universe was pulled from under their feet. besides love, jjk is also about generational second chances: sashisu and itakugifushi; toji and maki; geto and yuuji and yuuta; geto walking to tengen’s quarters alone, delivering riko almost hesitantly, and yuuji waking to tengen’s quarters with megumi, yuuta, choso, and yuki. silhouettes in the dark of the tunnels. hell, you could even count yaga as a teacher and gojo as a teacher. or yaga’s CT and how he gave a child another chance at life. yuuji’s multiple resurrections. kenjaku and tengen. i get it, i do—i understand what gege’s trying to do here, but i’m tired of him using these characters as plot devices instead of giving them the resolution they deserve. (especially for jjk’s cash cow…he deserved more than a rushed end.)

i do hope that that one theory about gojo only being able to die if his head is cut off is true. but even then, after all of the fake outs we’ve had to read, that would be a shitty cheap shot. i’ll try to have faith; even that is wavering.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk leaks #jjk 236 #gojo satoru #gojo #ugh this was so rushed #i’ll fix it later #i was gonna makes a long post and love and generational second chances but i need to process this leak first geez #putting that to the backburner ig

[tohokuu]

satoru loves fat pussy’s. he likes the extra layer of fat surrounding your clitoris and he loves even more when you spread your lips with two fingers while the other two work on rubbing your clit. what he likes even more is spreading your lips himself and then licking and flicking your clit with his tongue. with your pussy spread apart, it means that he can freely make out with your cunt until you’re pushing his head away… which is his goal

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #wrote this post but #so many typos i had to fix #i am in bless #bliss