#It just adds to the tragedy of Gojo

[lizard-tail]

Gojo Satoru’s attempt to change the Jujutsu society was sadly always doomed to fail

Now, first lets get some things out of the way:

Gojo, after Nanami, is one of the best supporting adults for the students. He helps them and protects them during missions, is in general a good mentor that gives them helpful advice, and wants them to fare better than himself and his contemporaries.

I do not criticise Gojo’s attempts to change the Jujutsu society. It needs an absolute overhaul and he does it to make the lives of children better.

His strategy of change through teaching is very commendable and absolutely  needed overall, just so the children can have a functioning adult support system.

But all of that does not change the fact that it was overall always doomed to fail, as it was barely holding the unforgiving nature of the Jujutsu society in check.

Jujutsu Society

The Jujutsu society itself seems to see themselves above non-sorcerers and their laws. I mean they are all normal residents of normal, democratic, modern Japan, right? But they absolutely do not care about Japan’s laws in the slightest. They can and do execute whoever they want, are beyond the judicial system and have child soldiers. And that’s just the absolute major laws of non-sorcerers they ignore. At the same time, it seems they see it as absolutely normal to just exist in Jujutsu society, and recruit every child with a Curse Technique to their fight, as if they all inherently must do it.

Gojo and his place in the system

Gojo, maybe more than anyone else, was the ultimate product of the Jujutsu society. He was at the same time treated like 1) an idolized sign of strength with powers of a demi-god as “The Strongest”, while also 2) the greatest sacrificial lamb raised up for the slaughter as “The Strongest”. It’s a paradoxical position, but a position utterly entrenched in the system. And not only in the system but in Jujutsu existence overall, because his birth changed the balance.

No other character is so integral interwoven into Jujutsu itself and its resulting system as he is. They way the society is now (curse users hiding, more stronger curses…) is because of Gojo, and Gojo is a product of the society (held up as the strongest, him stemming the whole society on his back…). He was raised in it, lived in it, it’s the only society he experienced. So many negative aspects of the Jujutsu society are so normalized for him, he doesn’t even pay it any mind. Because IMO for Gojo those are not aspects of a society that can be changed, but are facts of life.

Normalized endorsement?

Because lets be real: Gojo wants to change the life of the students for the better. That they are not so isolated as he was. That they don’t lose their innocence so soon. All very great things. But he does NOT question the existence of child soldiers!  

Child soldiers and being a child soldier is so normalized for Gojo, that he does not acknowledge/mention the fact that joining a Jujutsu High School and becoming official Jujutsu sorcerers is, by default the loss of their innocence, because they become child soldiers.

(Yes, I know it’s a shounen manga and of course teenagers are the protagonists/heroes, but that’s just a lame and too easy excuse. Especially because JJK plays, deconstructs and subverts a lot of normal shounen tropes at the moment by giving a horrifying insight what it means to be a child soldier. Don’t bring up the horror of child soldiers and then don’t commit)

Gojo himself, despite his good intentions and good actions, often still falls back onto the methods and the system of the Jujutsu society by not really monitoring their missions despite info that it’s not going as planned (Megumi and Sukuna’s finger), sending his students into danger to unlock Yuta’s potential, and most of all, still training children to be child soldiers. Being a child soldier is so ingrained in himself and his surroundings that despite his overall positive actions to better their lives as child soldiers, he does not mention making meaningful changes to lessen their existence as child soldiers.

Lessening the Burden

Because there are changes that the Jujutsu society overall could arrange that would lessen their burden as child soldiers:

Not letting them be unsupervised on missions without an experienced adult sorcerer

Age restriction for the different sorcerer classes despite their innate power and abilities

Only allowing a certain number of missions per month/week

Of course, now there will be people saying that they have to little sorcerers for that, and they need them otherwise more people will die. And yes. There would be most likely more people that die by curses. But at the same time it’s possible that better adjusted sorcerers who were better protected and supported as children have a better rate of survival leading to more sorcerers and saved lives (that would need an impossible case study).

And also: people die. That sounds harsh, but it is true. I mean we all know the articles and studies about world hunger in some countries, and food waste in industrial countries. Horrible working conditions for fast fashion or getting resources. How man-made climate change effects will lead to massive changes and most likely a lot of death and so on. Just massive, horrible failures of systems and societies that take deaths and pain into account. And in contrast to the real-world issues, the Jujutsu sorcerers are not responsible for curses and the subsequent deaths of people. Especially not the children that have a right to be protected.

Now again, that’s not the fault of Gojo at all. But it noticeable that he does not question the existence of child soldiers and does not attempt to make systematic changes. Instead, he focuses on individuals to leave a lasting impression on them.

The issue of class and hierarchy

The power of the Jujutsu society lies in the higher ups made up from very old, established clans and family lines. Gojo’s rank as clan head means he has also a lot of political power. He is basically empowered two times over. So he can throw a lot of power and influence around and force a lot of things his way (eg. Protecting Yuta and Yuuji from execution, taking Megumi from the Zennin…). But as with his sorcerer powers, he is mostly isolated from the others around him regarding his political powers. Noone else close to him has as much political influence as he does, in many ways it’s the opposite as his closest allies and students are despised by the higher ups.

Yuta and Yuuji were to be executed, Inumaki is from a clan that’s despised and hunted down, Hakari was suspended, Maki is hated by her clan, Panda is an abomination, Nobara is from the country. Megumi had greatest chance of getting political power, but was basically booted out as soon as possible by the established clan. The adults also wield barely any influence. Nanami and Shoko are high ranking sorcerers but have nothing to do with politics and the system and rather keep out of the way. Yaga has the political power but was regarded as a dangerous and killed off as soon as possible. Tokyo Jujutsu High is basically a ragtag group of unwanted sorcerers. As soon as Gojo was out of the way the Jujutsu society at large did their best to boot everyone around him into insignificant positions and the edges of the Jujutsu society, having no influence on the wider scale of it.

It's a contrast to Kyoto High, especially in the beginning (before Gojo was sealed and everything got complete chaotic). Gakuganji is a very trusted and influential sorcerer, all the students at the Goodwill Event were trusted to execute their kill orders, the clan members are maybe not valued by the clans (and treated like shit) but they were accepted by them as long as they did not step a foot out of line. They are overall political and social better positioned in the Jujutsu society.

And that matters a lot. Because long-lasting reformation of a societal system through teaching can only really happen if you have continued access to the society and can inform and influence a major group of that system. As it was everything rested on Gojo and Gojo alone. We don’t know the exact numbers, but overall the Jujutsu society while seemingly small is a lot larger than the small group of students we follow. Larger in number than the individual students Gojo teaches and influences. Even if all of his students would hold on to his teachings and teach others as well in the future, it would need decades to permeate the Jujutsu society and meaningful change it in ways that would not be easily changed back. And because a lot of it hinges on the continued presence and power of Gojo, it was sadly always a very shaky house of cards. Or like the meme showed, a flex tape trying to hold back water.

Conclusion: Gojo Satoru did make meaningful and needed changes especially for the life of individuals and showed aspects of the Jujutsu society that need to be overhauled. But it was never enough for long-lasting, permanent change as it did nothing to the inherent brokenness of the Jujutsu society and its use of child soldiers and its hierarchy of classism. Without breaking those things all of his efforts were generally doomed to fail. (I guess everything post-Shibuya achieved something at least)

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th 

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“ 

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.” 

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?” 

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“ 

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“ 

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?” 

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker. 

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod. 

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod. 

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.  

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[katerina-marie]

The Tragedy of a Duality

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader and (Past) Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6, Chp 7 (Final)

In the present, you are a sorcerer and the cherished wife of the Honored One. In an era long gone, remembered by only one, you were ordinarily human and the beloved bride of the King of Curses. How fitting it would be, in an evening of destruction, to have your heart torn in two.

I stumbled upon this post by @godletmebeanf1wag (thank you for the idea!) a while back and was inspired, so here's my interpretation of it.

I also listened to Speak Up by Pop ETC on repeat while writing this entire thing, so I encourage you to take a listen. I feel like it ties in to parts of the story well :)

Content: JJK Universe and Canon Events (tho tweaked to incorporate reader), Fluff, Angst (the prompt is a spoiler enough), Flashbacks, Ambiguous ending, Violence, Death, Female reader but left descriptively vague, No use of y/n, True Form Sukuna in the past, ****Itadori Yuji is Sukuna's vessel in the present, Innuendos, Allusions to + Vaguely described sex so avoid accordingly. Will add more CW to each chapter if needed. ****Nothing inappropriate will happen between Vessel Itadori/Sukuna and reader in the present because he's obvi a minor and her student. All romance/physical interactions between reader and Sukuna will take place in flashbacks when he's in his true form.****

WC: 3.8k

Chapter 1

Many, Many Years Before Present

There are beams of golden sunlight that stagger through the gaps of deciduous trees, and if you look closely, dust and debris haze them past the point of being diaphanous. In the midst of them, your caravan is paused at the gaping mouth of the woods. Two paths diverge from the worn dirt road in front of you. The one to the left would keep you all deep in the coverage of foliage and darkness. The other leads you to a bustling village that remains unbothered, and you can just faintly hear the noise of it from where it lies below a sloping hill. 

You suspect your presence in this one would produce the same reaction as all the others before it: the bowing of knees, faces full of fright and wonder, and the same hushed whispers of barely concealed unrest that are shared in the shadows. Your choice would be to avoid it altogether, but the decision is not left to you. 

 “Must we?” 

You lift your face up towards your husband, and he is already watching you from the corner of his lower eye. The other stares straight ahead and into the awaiting village, his vision infinitely more capable than your own. He doesn’t answer you right away, but surely he could hear the wariness in your voice. Weeks of traveling through newly acquired lands is never something you would grow fond of. No matter how gilded the tents or plush the bedding, neither would compare when a palace is what you call home, and you are eager to return to it. 

“Sukuna?” 

You tentatively try to garner his attention, to pull his focus off what lies ahead and onto you. You reach out to lay a hand on the arm not concealed by his robes when a sussaration of fabric alerts to you Uraume’s sudden presence in front of you both. The clenching of your teeth sends small bursts of pain through your jaw when you realize that you are going to be outnumbered by your husband’s most trusted advisor. 

They bow quickly and by the time they are upright, Sukuna has nodded his permission and they cross their arms primly into their sleeves. 

“We must proceed through the village. Establishing your authority is paramount in these outer lying areas.” 

When you breathe out a sigh of annoyance, Uraume’s head jerks from Sukuna to you, and though their expression is perfectly impassive, their eyes hold an almost imperceptible hint of disdain. 

“Such majesty demands to be worshiped.”

You do not necessarily disagree, but the idea of parading yourselves in front of people who are less than keen to see you leaves a sense of unease in your stomach, and the unflinching way Uraume keeps hold of your eyes does not abate the sensation. Sukuna would never permit disrespect towards you—not from anyone—but he does not deign to involve himself in child-like skirmishes, and Uraume makes sure to keep your interactions as close to such as possible to go undetected. 

Sukuna answers with a single, elegant nod of his head and you have to hold your tongue to prevent yourself from voicing your contradictory opinion. He would listen to it, consider it even, but you know such conversations were best left to be had out of the public eye. 

“We continue forward,” Sukuna calls out, and his voice carries loud and authoritatively through the trees. Uraume bows again and then disappears as quickly as they appeared, leaving the both of you to continue leading the procession out from the woods. 

“Fret not,” he murmurs, lifting his arm just enough so you could slide your hand into the crook of his elbow. “I assure you all will be well.” 

When you arrive at the outskirts of the village, the entirety of the caravan behind you, people stop in their tracks to gape and stare. Mothers yank their children behind their legs while men’s hands twitch towards whatever part of their body their weapon is tied to. Sukuna sweeps his eyes from side to side, taking in old wood structures and stalls offering various goods, and people duck their heads and fall into bows, unwilling or unable to keep their gaze on the sight before them. 

You suppose it is not the rich, plum-colored fabric of your matching robes as they drag and dance over the ground the two of you walk on, nor is it the lengthy procession behind you. The sheer sight of Sukuna must be what drives these villagers to their knees or draws muttered curses from their lips. 

“A monster,” they hiss under their breath, and if you were anyone else you would agree.

 Sukuna towers above everyone, and the breadth of his shoulders are in of themselves inhuman. If it is not his sheer size, however, it must be the second set of arms that rest just below the first and the extra pair of eyes underneath the others while the right side of his face resembles something akin to disfigurement. Maybe it is even the markings, black and jagged and appearing even in places not displayed currently. He is a beast, in simple terms, vicious as he is cunning, and the villagers would be wise to be wary. 

Most are, from what you can see. They cast down their eyes and swear fealty to an inhuman king, too afraid to do anything that could be considered dissent. The ones that tremble in his shadow and speak blessings to your feet offer no threat to your life, nor Sukuna’s reign. 

But there are those that lurk in shadowed corners and whisper under bated breath to one another. They lower their heads just enough to disguise their contempt, but you feel the heavy cloud of tension and anger amongst those who sow seeds of discontent, and it drives you closer into Sukuna’s side. 

“We should not have come,” you whisper to him from between lips that hardly part in an effort to not displace the expression of serene boredom from your face. Sukuna says nothing, but he slips his lower right arm across your back. “Uraume is wrong. These people are beyond displeased.” 

Nervousness hastens your words and your eyes jump from every darkened alley to each barely concealed scowl that could be spotted in the crowd.  Where allegiance and obedience aren’t found, violence and retribution are surely promised. 

You tug gently on Sukuna’s sleeve. “We must do something to assuage their fears, to bribe them into forgetting their hatred for us,” you insist, and normally you would scale back the desperation in your voice if a tingling at the back of your mind is not convincing you that something is going to go very wrong. You bounce a nail off the pad of your thumb, and the sting of it distracts you.

“We can discuss this back in our tents,” he says back quietly, but his tone, while not angry, brooks no further questioning on the topic. The dismissal stings some, but after nearly three years of marriage, you have learned a thing or two when it comes to swaying the opinions of your husband. 

So you say nothing more and focus on walking forward with a plainly demure smile on your face. When the dirt road begins to spread wide again on the opposite end of the village and gives a glimpse into another section of forest, some of the earlier anxiety slips from your mind. But, something has you turning your head back briefly, and there’s not much to take in from what you had not already: the careful blankness of Uraume’s face from where they trail a couple feet behind you and Sukuna, the mindless shuffling of attendants and servants, and then the gathering crowd at the very back. They watch intently as the procession leaves the village and apprehension swirls in your belly again as you turn forward.

Hours later, in the dark of the night, the makeshift camp is silent as everyone rests from the day’s journey. You and Sukuna are sequestered in a grandiose tent in front of all the others. It is large enough to hold a bed sized for the two of you, a table and chairs in a corner, as well as a cushioned stool and small vanity off to one side that holds what you need to refresh from the day. Strategically placed candles give off a diffused glow to the space and allow your eyes just enough light to do your tasks. 

You turn from your seat at it and clear your throat to catch Sukuna’s attention from where he is sitting across the room from you. Documents are spread out on the table and he scribbles onto a piece of parchment every few minutes. When he looks up and sees the expectant tilt of your brows and the bounce of your leg as it’s crossed over the other, his lips quirk to one side in amusement and he sets down his work to focus on you. 

“You are unhappy with me,” Sukuna remarks. He sits back against the chair he is in and tosses his upper arms along the back of it lazily while the hands of his lower arms twine together in his lap. “Speak.” 

Your response is an undignified snort, and you poke your tongue into your cheek to refrain from snipping at him. On weary legs, you stand from your stool and smooth your nightgown down your knees before padding across the plush carpets draped over the ground to lean against the side of the bed closest to your husband. 

“Not necessarily,” you start, and this time it’s Sukuna’s turn to arch an eyebrow at you. “Maybe a little…perturbed.” 

He sighs and glances around the walls of your tent, and while you know he would hear you out, he is also growing exasperated with the repeated conversation. The two of you walk a delicate balance between the supreme authority Sukuna holds and the wisdom you have to share. You would not dare to undermine it, nor question it in front of anyone should it be perceived as disobedience or weakness on his part. But in the seclusion of your chambers—or your tent as of late—you cautiously advise him with lessons on humanity. 

“I have assured you, there is nothing for you to be worried about.” 

“I understand that,” you say, though you shake your head, “but something has felt wrong today, Sukuna. These villages are not pleased with you taking over rulership of the lands. A revolt would not be unexpected.” 

His expression hardens and he slowly leans forward onto his elbows as he keeps eye contact with you. “You are well aware of what would take place should such a thing happen.” 

Murder. Violence. A complete decimation of anyone who fails to comply with his sovereignty. 

You do not fear your husband, and you are not concerned for your safety in his presence, but it would be a lie for you to say that he does not intimidate you. He is otherworldly, something predatory in nature, and your body, separate from your mind, is all too conscious of how plainly human (prey-like) you are compared to him. The stillness of his body as he observes you and the deep, threatening edge to his voice sends a shiver down your spine and you have to swallow audibly before you can continue. 

“I am aware,” you tell him, and he seems marginally pleased at hearing you admit it. “It’s within your authority and I would not question it.” 

It pains you to say so, if it isn’t entirely true and untrue. You have yet to reconcile the burden of the status you hold as Sukuna’s wife. You lie awake some nights wondering when you might get used to it. Though maybe you never will, and will end your days wishing you could have had just him without all of it. 

“It is just…” you trail off, unable to get the words out of your mouth as something hot wells up behind your eyes and tightens your throat. Sukuna looks mildly alarmed at the emotion on your face and begins to stand, no doubt to come comfort you, but you hold up a palm to him and he freezes. 

“I can empathize with them, Sukuna.” Your voice is a little shaky, but you blink away the moisture on your lashes and straighten your countenance the best you can to appear strong and able in front of him. “I was one of them once, before you found me and chose me. I am human first, yet you were able to gain my trust over time.” 

Sukuna’s features soften and he sits back upright. You have no delusion in thinking that your husband is weak for anything or anyone, but you do suspect that the love he has for you gives glimpses into a shred of humanity that he maybe once had and allows no one to see. 

You smile weakly at him and tangle your fingers into the fabric of your nightgown. “I will not get in the way of what you decide is best, but perhaps we can approach this differently—bring with us provisions and goods or whatever it takes to earn loyalty first before resorting directly to bloodshed. That is all I request.” 

Sukuna is quiet in the wake of what you said, and there is a pensive edge to his face as he considers you. When a minute goes by and he has said nothing, you push off the side of the bed and turn to get into it, feeling both dejected and ignored. Before you can, a large hand catches your shoulder and halts your movement. You look back and Sukuna is standing over you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“This will make you happy?” he asks. 

You nod once, but say nothing, and Sukuna lets out a defeated exhale through his nose. He crosses one set of arms while he reaches towards you with another, and you can do nothing but comply as he spins you around to face him. 

“Very well,” he concedes. You feel a victorious grin twitching the corner of your lips, so you duck your head in mock bashfulness in order to hide it. “I’ll discuss it with Uraume tomorrow.” 

The victory is short lived and your mouth falls into a pout as you snap your head up towards him, and you know that contempt is pinching your features. Sukuna simply laughs and his own smile breaks through the rigidity of his face. 

“Their opinion will not come before yours, do not worry,” he soothes, brushing his hands up and down your shoulders, but your eyes narrow at the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Swear it?” you ask haughtily. You tip your nose into the air and watch as his gaze turns flinty. Sukuna lowers his head closer to yours and the hands on your shoulders drop to your hips to clench the skin there through your nightgown. 

“My word is not enough?” he growls, tightening his hold slightly. You just shrug and offer him a coy flutter of your lashes. Teasing Sukuna isn’t something you take part in regularly, but if a bit of attitude on your part is enough to rile him up, then you’re happy to indulge in your attempt at retribution. 

He must see the mischievousness on your face because he pushes you backwards onto the bed. Your breath leaves you in a hushed oomph and your wrists are being held by your ears at the same time Sukuna is using his lower arms to gather your nightgown in his hands and shove it up your thighs. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, even though you know quite well what is about to happen as Sukuna transfers your wrists into one of his hands to kneel between your knees. His answering smirk is nothing short of wickedly promising, and the gleam in his red eyes has heat curling in your stomach. 

He lowers his head to kiss along your thighs and you just barely hear him murmur into your skin, “such majesty demands to be worshiped.” 

Some time later, when you lie across Sukuna’s chest sated and only half awake, you are faintly aware of a hushed voice calling out for him from the entrance of your tent. The hand in your hair stills and he shifts you to one side of him as he answers back quietly. You nuzzle further into the crook of his arm and somewhere in the back of your consciousness, you recognize the voice as belonging to Uraume. They whisper back and forth to one another before Sukuna is slipping out from under you. You groan out a protest and he places a kiss to your temple as he draws the blankets higher up your back. You nestle under them to search for the remaining body heat he leaves behind, and you are already drifting off into deeper sleep when he promises you that he will return soon. 

The faintest rustling outside your tent is what wakes you first. It is apparent that Sukuna is not in bed with you, and from the dying glow of the candles, you know that some hours have passed and it is well into the middle of the night. You blink fog from your eyes and roll from your side onto your back. His side of the bed is cold, and while the blankets have kept you warm enough, the soft breeze from the small vents in the tent chill your skin. With another roll, you reach down on the other side of the bed and pick up your discarded nightgown off the floor. 

You’ve just pulled the fabric over your head and settled it down your body when another scuff of something pricks your ears. You go still and squint in an attempt to peer a bit better into the darkness of your tent. When a moment goes by and no other sound is heard, you sit up against your pillows and consider what it might be. 

Sukuna would never leave you unguarded, nor would he venture too far without taking you with him for the sake of your protection. Yet, goosebumps still erupt over your skin and icy nervousness begins to prickle at the back of your mind. The tent itself looks the same as it did from earlier. Sukuna’s robes lay scattered on the floor and some wayward pillows have ended up at the foot of the bed. Nothing else is displaced and the flaps of your tent remain tied shut. 

The idea of calling out for a guard crosses your mind and you swing your feet over the edge of the bed when a glint of steel from a dark corner captures your attention. You can just barely see a shadow slink towards you as you inhale a great breath, intent on letting out a cry. Terror floods your mind and body, and for a moment, your muscles lock in place. When it’s too late, you try to frantically crawl backwards away from the moving figure. Your last thought is to wonder if Sukuna is near enough to hear the snick of a blade being drawn and the beginning of your scream before it’s cruelly cut off. 

-----------------------------------

Three Years Before Present

An hour or two outside the city, there is an inn that sits nestled on the edges of a quiet forest. Evening has brought reprieve from the summer sun, but along with it, a humid rain shower dampens the earth and muffles the sound of joyful laughter and a jazzy piano drifting out from inside the dining lounge of the inn. Just beyond, stringed lights that glow golden are strewn between a cluster of fruit trees, and surrounding them are a modest grouping of white wooden chairs with flowers draping along their backs. A couple hours before, when the rain hadn’t yet come and the early sunset broke through the trees, your closest friends and peers gathered in those chairs to watch you exchange vows with the man who’s chest you now lean against. 

“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” 

Your voice is hushed, but you angle your head back and it knocks gently against Satoru’s shoulder. He hums in response and you feel it where his cheek is pressed into your temple. His arms are bracketed around the tops of yours and cross over your chest. The delicate train of your dress is looped over his forearm to keep it off the damp patio, and the white of it is a stark contrast against the black of his tux. 

Just behind the two of you, cheers sound through from inside as a cork is popped, and you giggle at the celebratory noise of your friends. Dinner has come and gone, cake has already been served, and now that drinks flowed, mingling and dancing took over the rest of the evening. When your cheeks had flushed warm and Satoru’s tinted pink, you had covertly pulled your new husband by the wrist out a backdoor to find solace in the dark of the night and the relative quiet of outside. Now, as the two of you look out over the very spot where you traded rings just some time ago, the solitude is a welcomed opportunity to bask in the entirety of it. 

“It really is,” Satoru murmurs. The breath of his words skitter over the shell of your ear, and he squeezes you tighter to his chest when you shiver. “I’m sorry it started to rain, though.” 

You release a content sigh and snuggle in deeper to the warmth of his arms. When you turn your head up towards him, Satoru answers you with a kiss, and the heady rush that comes from feeling his lips against yours makes you wish it was time for the two of you to hurry away for your own night of celebration. But, there is still merriment to be had and people waiting to share their congratulations, so you break away from Satoru when the air in your lungs is no more and the adoring smile on his face certainly matches yours. 

“Don’t be,” you whisper, and he cocks his head curiously. 

The smell of rain and the sound it makes when it hits the roof of the inn or bounces off the leaves of the trees is something you find pleasant. You’ve always enjoyed the rain, and now is no exception, no matter if it forces your reception inside and mists your skin. 

“I’m not bothered by it,” you assure him, and Satoru seems appeased. You take another moment of quiet to glance back out at the hazy glow of the lights and inhale the crispness of the air before the two of you need to return to the party that’s going on inside for the both of you. 

“Besides,” you add, squeezing Satoru’s hand, and the cool metal of his wedding ring makes the skin of your palm tingle. “Haven’t you heard? Rain on your wedding day is a sign of good luck.” 

-----------------------------

If you take the time to read this, thank you very much! Most of this fic is written, so it shouldn't take too long for the rest of it come out once it's edited.

Also on Ao3.

I'm happy to tag anyone who is interested in the following chapters.

[yandere-daydreams]

personally i, as a pretty man enjoyer to the bone, do not find gojo hot.

i think it’s because no matter how powerful he is in canon, his vibes are truly just SO pathetic to me and i don’t like pathetic wet cat men

i’ve also literally never seen the show and i’m not gonna start now so i have no personality to attach to his character to give him any depth or bonus hotness

like i don’t care if he’s the most powerful wizard or whatever the fuck, fundamentally he looks like he’d dig in my trash and jack off into used pads while sniffing my dirty underwear and eating my deodorant like. be better.

i cannot imagine this man ever putting his dick in anything even vaguely human and thus he is unfuckable, and i don’t care for him

tbh i think gojo being considered almost-universally hot despite his absolutely rancid vibes is kind of a testament to jjk's character writing. i'm honestly more of a geto enjoyer and i really wasn't interested in gojo at all when i started watching the show, but he just kind of,,, seeps into the wrinkles of your brain and stays there. you start off kind of rolling your eyes at his silliness to being like 'well i guess he's KIND OF cool when he's with his students' to crying into your pillow at night because of the tragedy of pure love in an endlessly cruel world + the kindness that can sprout from the decaying corpse of heartbreak allowed to fester. none of that does anything about the fact that he is absolutely a 27 year old virgin who would jerk off to used deodorant if it smelled enough like you but. it adds a little extra spice y'know.

[sachirobabe]

Chapter 5

Gojo Satoru x reader

Wc: 3576

Curseless au

Summary: Amidst the zombie apocalypse, your courage shines as you not only saves lives but capture the heart of Gojo Satoru. Together with his first-year students, you all embark on a perilous journey, not only for survival but in a quest for a cure that adds a poignant layer to the unfolding romance.

<— Previous | Masterlist | Next —>

"Where's Shoko?" Gojo asks as the two of you walk back into the kitchen/dining area.

Before Nanami could answer, the kitchen doors swing open, revealing a girl with brown hair. "What now—oh, you must be Y/n." She smiles. "I'm Shoko, I'm so happy to have someone smart."

"Oh, thanks," you laugh, "Are you a doctor as well?" She nods and takes out a cigarette.

"I for sure would've thought that you'd quit those by now." Gojo shakes his head, assisting you in sitting.

"I will." She rolls her eyes. "Unless we figure out how to make our own." Shoko winks at you.

It's ironic, a doctor smoking. They're all about health and here she is, smoking a cigarette without a care in the world, literally.

"How do you deal with him?" She asks you, "I already like you more than Gojo."

"He's not that bad." You say and he grins at you. "Well," you begin, "he did almost get us killed the first time we met."

"He's never leaving your side now." Shoko shakes her head, "You should've seen him before all of this happened."

"He was insufferable." Nanami's deep voice chimes in.

"Hey!" Gojo frowns, "I'm not that bad."

The entire group laughs, it felt a little nice to forget about the tragedies happening outside. It's quickly ruined as you let your mind slip away from the conversation at hand.

You remember everything that you had taken for granted. Now you're sure it'll never go back to normal unless there's another planet suitable for sustaining life. Even then, there's no way of knowing if there's someone capable of building a rocket.

You're in the beginning stages of spiraling, you feel like crying and shutting out the whole world. You excuse yourself to the bathroom, everybody continues the conversation. You briefly hear them talking about getting some rest for the night as you leave.

You quickly close the bathroom door behind you, your breathes become more rapid and tears begin to fill your eyes, you don't bother in blinking them away. You think it's better to feel your emotions rather than conceal them. You manage to keep your meltdown quiet, so others wouldn't worry as they walked by.

The thought of life and how everything is gonna turn out is eating you alive, your tears fall quicker when you think about if you'll survive, you're careful when going out, but are you going to have to live your entire life killing zombies and scavenging for food?

You're overwhelmed by the amount of questions flooding your mind, but you begin to calm yourself down, firstly by your breathing. They're not as frantic as before, you remind yourself to take it day by day. 'You're not alone now.' You repeat to yourself.

You blow your nose and wash your face to cool you down, your eyes look tired as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You give yourself another minute to make it look like you weren't just having a breakdown.

As soon as you open the door you're met with Gojo, his arm freezes in mid-air as he was about to knock.

"There you are." He smiles, you force one back and quickly advert your eyes, faking a yawn. "Everyone's heading to bed, you tired?"

You nod, even though you aren't. "Are you?" You ask and clear your throat after it came out raspy.

"Not really. We don't have to keep watch either, Nanami turned on the fence and made sure all the doors were locked." He says.

"That's good." You nod.

"Let's stay up a bit," He smiles and wraps his arm around you to help. He definitely notices your eyes being red, he's seen you tired and this was not it. "I'm so glad we found my friends—"

"Gojo, I'm sorry, but I really am tired." You interrupt him, now feeling even worse than you did.

He stops you both in the hallway and forces you to take a seat next to him, "No you're not. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm tired like I said." You sigh.

"Liar." He sits next to you, fiddling with his fingers, "I could tell something was up when you left."

You try again once more, "I had to use the bathroom, nothing else."

"Bullshit," He starts, "This is my question. What's wrong?" His eyes now meet yours and you avoid his blue eyes.

You clench your jaw. You felt pathetic having to tell him that you were crying because of the future, you had only known him for a few days, but your trust in him had grown exponentially due to the circumstances, and that scares you as well.

"I didn't feel good."

"About what?" He pushes.

"The future. It's scary and sometimes it overwhelms me." You shrug, resting your head on your good leg.

He stays silent for a moment, nodding to your statement. "You can talk about it to me. No more of this 'I barely know you' bullshit, we're all surviving together."

You flinch a little at his harsh words, "I was just upset, that's all. When I'm upset I cry, it feels better to let it out." Your eyes are now staring into his, "And it terrifies me that I don't know what the future will be like. Will we have enough food? Will the government save us? It's endless."

"We'll get through it. Day by day." He reassures. "You don't think I'm terrified too? I worry about keeping my students safe, my friends, and now you. The government probably doesn't even exist anymore, we're fending for ourselves, which is terrifying, but the more people you have, the easier it is."

You feel your tears begin again and look away, this time you're able to blink them away, Gojo was making it harder because he rubbed your back reassuringly.

"I already failed in keeping you safe." He sighs, "It was so stupid of me to not think about jumping it before the zombies came." His brows furrowed.

"You weren't the one climbing, I was. I got myself hurt, don't feel like you need to take responsibility for that. You've already done so much for your students." You say. 

He shakes his head, his white fluffy hair falling into his eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if any of them got hurt. Any of you." He admits.

"You put a lot of pressure on yourself." You say, "I think you should depend on us sometimes too." He smiles softly at your words and gently bumps his shoulder with yours.

"Do you feel better?" He asks, noticing your sleepy face.

"Yeah. Thank you, Gojo." Your head leans back against the wall, your eyelids feel heavier with every blink.

"Satoru."

"Hm?" You say, barely keeping your eyes open.

"Call me Satoru." You nod and rest your head on his shoulder, he doesn't mind, laying his own on top of yours.

It was silent for a few minutes, Gojo listens to your breathing soften and knows you've just fallen asleep. Now that he's alone in his thoughts he thinks about a lot that you said, he wonders how a cure could be found. He knows it'd be impossible to turn zombies back into humans, but what about preventing humans from turning?

It was late enough, he hadn't slept much in days, he was really feeling the effects of it. He gently moves your head off of him and is careful when picking you up bridal style. He quietly walks into the room and sees Nanami awake, a small flashlight in his hand as he reads a book.

He gives his friend a nod as he sees his futon is already set up, he gently puts you back down, making sure your injured leg is straight and not gonna ruin the stitches. Then he places a blanket over your body, he stares at you for a long as he can before his eyes give out on him and he passes out.

Your thigh is extremely sore, the small cuts have began to scab and your stitches are swelling, but that's to be expected. You finish wrapping and stand up, the place has running water and electricity, so you enjoyed a warm shower.

You walk down to get breakfast, wondering what the plans are for today, you see everybody already eating.

"Your food might be cold." Nanami says as he slides your plate and you thank him.

"Do you want it warm?" Satoru asks.

You're a little confused, "What?"

"Your food," He says, "do you want it to be warm?"

"Um, it's okay, it's my fault it's cold—" You begin, but he takes your plate and is off to the kitchen.

"Your leg feeling better?" Shoko asks, her fork is cutting up some of her food as she slowly eats it.

"I'm very sore today, so no venturing out for me." You chuckle, you tell her in a little more detail about the stitches and how it's healing, knowing she'd understand.

Satoru comes back with your food, now steaming. He sits back down and takes a bite of your sausage, "It's a fee."

You rolled your eyes, "Thank you." The first and second years were messing around in another room, so it was just the adults at the table. Satoru really knew how to push people's buttons, you've lost count at how many times Nanami has rolled his eyes at the white haired male.

"I'm trying to be serious here with you, Gojo, but I'm about to throw you out to the zombies." Nanami threatens, he takes his map back from the man child, erasing the drawings he was making.

"You know I'd win." He grins.

"Unfortunately. I'll take you out myself then." He glares and lays the map back out on the table, you move your plate to the side so there'd be more room.

"What's this?" You ask, putting your full attention on the blonde.

"A map, duh." Satoru says obviously. You can't tell if he's trying to annoy you as well or if he really meant his statement.

"I'll help Nanami and take you out too, smartass." You deadpan. "The markings." You face Nanami.

"These are all the radio towers we've tried." He softly smiles at your response to Satoru, but it quickly goes away, you're still able to catch it though.

"Oh shit. You've really gone far." Satoru brings himself back into the conversation.

"We'd like to try this one," Shoko places her finger on the map for a moment, "But it's very dangerous there."

"Gangs?" You question and she nods.

"We'd need all the help we could get, I would've liked to leave today, but.." Nanami stops, pointing to your leg.

"You wouldn't risk going without me? I don't want to hold any of you back." You say.

"Gojo says you're valuable when fighting. I'd feel more comfortable having another set of hands and eyes." Nanami explains, "How long would it take for those to heal." He means the stitches.

"Anywhere from 2-4 weeks if I'm careful and clean the wounds often." You estimate. "Could be longer because I'm running out of antiseptic."

"What's that?" Satoru frowns.

"Rubbing alcohol, idiot." Nanami mutters the last word, but Satoru's hearing picks up it.

"Or hydrogen peroxide and iodine." Shoko adds, "For this being military, there's no infirmary."

"Where the hell are we gonna find antiseptics." Satoru rubs his forehead.

"Luck, by visiting the pharmacy's nearby." You say.

"We can do that." Nanami decides, "Anything to get you to heal quicker."

You give him a small smile and thank the group, they are all getting ready to walk around and try and find some extra resources. You are obviously staying behind, you'd only bring the group down in the condition that you're in.

"I can stay with you." Satoru offers.

"No way. I'll be fine. Nothings gonna happen here." You assure, he's bringing up a chair for you to sit in so you wouldn't have to stand while keeping watch to open and close the gate after they leave.

"They don't need me." He smiles, "Plus I know how lonely you'll be without my presence."

"If anything, she's gonna be relieved." Shoko says as she leans against the doorframe and inhales from her cigarette. Satoru frowns at her, "Besides, I need a bodyguard."

"Nanami will be there." Satoru answers.

She shakes her head, "I need all the protection I can get."

Satoru knows what she's doing, "You've survived so far."

"She doesn't need protecting," She points at you with her cigarette, "she's badass. And she saved you." She reminds.

"I wasn't armed," He defends himself, "otherwise I would've protected her." His nose is high in the air, annoyed with the conversation.

"I'll be okay, Satoru. You guys shouldn't be too long anyway." You shrug, "Now go get ready."

He pouts, really wanting to stay there with you. As he leaves he glares at Shoko and she laughs. Nanami comes up after them and explains how to turn the fence on and off, even though you wouldn't need to, and how to open and close the gate.

It was simple, not complicated at all. Shoko handed you a medical book to read knowing you'd get bored. You open the gate and the group quickly slips through, as soon as Satoru goes you push the button to shut it again.

Satoru turns to face where you're at and waves, you chuckle and wave back, not sure if he can even see you. They slowly become smaller and smaller as they continue walking.

You were advised to not move in case anything happens and they needed to be let in quickly. You weren't planning on moving either way, you want to minimize the movement to not reopen the stitches.

Occasionally you'd read a page of the book and look up and scan the area to make sure the group wasn't back yet. It quickly became tedious, you sigh and push the book to the side. You look out to the semi-open land, it was a little out of the city, but there were still occasional buildings and complexes.

Your mind is constantly worrying about food, there is a storage unit attached to the military base you're all currently staying at, but foods gonna run out quickly even with rationing.

Gardening had been a small hobby of yours when you were little, you remember planting all kinds of vegetables with your mother. You smile softly at the thought, your father would snap pictures of two then he'd join in as well.

'Gardening doesn't sound too bad', you think to yourself, but you also think that you'd all have to be permanently stationed somewhere, it'd be difficult to move plants, you didn't know too much about that.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot white hair, it was of course Satoru. The group was back, you frown as you felt like not much time had gone by. The sun was starting to go down a little, you must've been daydreaming a lot longer.

You make sure no zombies or others were following them as you push the button to open the gate, you shut it once they've all slipped through and slowly make your way back down to the main area to greet them.

"Any luck?" You ask.

"We found antiseptics." Itadori answers, wiping his nose from the cold.

"And some bandages and stuff, no luck on food though." Shoko smiles and takes off her coat.

"Let's go, I'll help you re-bandage." Satoru says, holding you again.

"First-years, you guys are in charge of dinner." Nanami says and sits down with Shoko and the second-years.

"Ramen." Nobara declares as she heads into the kitchen and the two boys follow after her.

"Anything happen out there?" You ask Satoru as he sets you down on the toilet seat.

"Nah. Not much trouble, what about here?" He says as he carefully unravels your wrapping.

You shake your head, "No, but I was thinking," You begin and he nods letting you know he's listening, "I've been worrying about the food and how quickly we're gonna go through it, if we can find some crops or seeds anywhere I can replant them."

"Not bad," He smiles widely, "I don't think we'll be staying here permanently though."

"I know. I'd also like to have a lab to work with Shoko in, you know maybe find out some more things about the zombies." You say, "A military base would be the best for us, it's secure."

"I agree," he sighs, "I'm not sure how long we'll stay here." His hands are careful as he dumps the liquid over your thigh. You're starting to get used to the burning.

"Has Nanami had any luck radioing?" You do some breathing to help get your mind off of the sting.

Satoru shakes his head, "I don't think we will, but it's worth a shot."

You watch him clean up the liquid, his hands are still freezing as ever, but he's starting to get the hang of bandaging.

"Let's get you all better, starting with no walking." Satoru picks you up carefully just how he did the night before.

"Woah—" Your eyes widen, "I can walk—"

"Nuh uh, we want you healed as quickly as possible." He says.

"You'll get tired of carrying me." You answer back.

"I'm strong." He winks at you and then looks ahead.

"What if I have to go to the bathroom." You deadpan.

"Looks like I'm going too." He smiles widely. "Kidding, I'll wait outside." He rolls his eyes.

The next few weeks go by excruciating slow, you felt terrible about getting injured, but it couldn't be helped now. Everyone was so helpful and kind during your healing process.

You had gotten closer to the second-years, all of them have been great. Maki was still a little unsure about you, but at least she was kinder now.

Satoru though, in just a few short weeks you had developed a small little crush. He had a way with words and was much more comfortable with you now. You know it'll go away, you've just been deprived of human interaction. That's what you keep telling yourself.

But in the meantime, it was fun to have one despite the circumstances. He was there for you for your whole recovery, anything you mentioned he got it done.

"You want to watch?" You ask confusingly to Satoru.

"Yeah!" He excitedly says. "I was forced to be your butler so I wanna see my work be payed off."

"You offered." You press your lips into a thin line and he just chuckles at your reaction. You slowly removed each stitch and Satoru watched intently. You could feel his breath on your leg from how close he was.

"We should keep this as a trophy!" He says as you plant them in his gloved hand.

"Why would I do that?" You frown, inspecting your work and seeing your wounds healed. You still put on some ointment to keep it from getting dry and itchy.

"Is this your first time having stitches?" He asks and you nod, "Well, I'd say that's a milestone."

"We're not keeping them. That's gross." You say and force him to toss them in the trash.

"Let's see that leg in action." He backs away and gasps dramatically as you stand, "Good as new! All thanks to me." He stands proudly.

You roll your eyes at the man and walk past him, it felt good to stand and walk on your own. You still have to be careful since the area is still a little tender. Everybody was sat near the kitchen, all eyes turned to you and smiles were plastered on every face as they realized.

"You're good as new!" Itadori gives you his famous smile.

"Glad to have you back, these losers need a bodyguard." Nobara says and both boys glare at her.

"We should start planning." Nanami says as you sit down, he notices Satoru walk into the room and frown when he sees his students already taking a seat next to you. Nanami eyes the spot next to him and Satoru grumbles.

"It'll take us about three weeks to get there and back." Shoko says, pulling out a small notebook and pencil to write things down.

You feel someone bang on the table twice, all of your attention goes to Inumaki as he signs, "What about the cars?"

Nanami sighs, "It'll bring too much attention. I don't want any trouble." He signs back.

Inumaki thinks for a moment, "I think it'll make us look scarier and less approachable."

"I agree." Panda signs.

"Maybe next time, we have to be strategic with our risks." Satoru joins in and Inumaki slumps in his seat, not wanting to walk for weeks.

"We have our rest stops, remember?" Maki says to help ease the pain of walking for long periods of time.

"And what if the tower doesn't work?" You say, Satoru interprets for Inumaki since you're still learning to sign.

"At least we'll know." Nanami eyes the map, "I know there's a huge military base near the coast. I used to drive by it sometimes."

"It's far from where we are and if we get there and find out it's taken, we'd have nowhere to go." Shoko adds.

"Alright, so when do we leave." You say.

"Tomorrow." Satoru declares.

[solaarbeeam]

the strongest - g. satoru

CW :: angst, mentions of death and sashisu tragedy, and geto’s defection

a/n :: not a gojo girlie, but I decided to write this to try my hand at angst.. and here we are.

When Gojo Satoru had enrolled in Tokyo Jujutsu Tech, he had expected to have people groveling at his feet, to praise and worship the ground he walked on, simply because he was the strongest. That’s how it’s always been.

At least, until you, a black-haired delinquent, and an auburn haired snarky healer bursted into his life.

It was once, when Yaga-sensei had asked him and Suguru to come outside for a sparring match. Him versus Suguru, the true strongest. With you and Shoko on the sidelines, you for combat experience, and Shoko as the only proficient RCT-user in the last 400 years.

Suguru brought out a curse. Infinity dropped without his permission. Shoko administered her healing technique immediately. You laughed at him, though in a lighthearted way and not a condescending way.

Infinity dropped for you. Infinity dropped for Shoko too. This was when he knew, he found his forever people. His forever home.

The only Six Eyes user in 400 years. A Curse Manipulator, making the strongest. The only proficient RCT-user in the last 400 years. Last but most definitely not least, you. The user of a technique that’s powerful on its own but works so well once with a group of sorcerers.

And then he came to love you.

He loves the three of you, you, Suguru, and Shoko that is, but he loves you differently. He loves Suguru in a best friend way, all harsh words with softer meanings behind them. He loves Shoko in a best girl way, sharing sweets and stealing sunglasses and rough yet gentle hands healing over his wounds.

The way he loves you, is all hushed words and touches that affect his soul so much he feels like it’s going to overflow one day. His eyes flicker and blink adoringly when he looks at you, and that’s how he should’ve known how this story ends.

In their second year of high school, everything went to shit. He should’ve known. The people he loves are and will always be ripped away from him.

The higher ups have began physically separating Shoko from the four of you. She tries her best to stay with you guys, but the higher ups have gotten to threatening her.

Satoru didn’t like that. He scheduled a meeting with the higher ups. They didn’t call Shoko, a 15 year old girl who has seen too much, to long nights in the morgue again.

One night, when they went out to a festival for Suguru’s birthday, a day late he might add because you had a mission out of town, you finally kissed him for the first time. He held on to you so tight you felt as if he was cradling your soul in his pale hands. Shoko and Suguru, had said, and he quotes, “It’s about damn time.”

Then, after a few rare peaceful months, everything went to shit. Why? Because he, Gojo Satoru, can never be happy. All his loved ones have to be taken away from him.

He’s the strongest. But without the people he loves, the people he cherishes, what is he, truly?

A kid. A kid raised to believe he was a god. All until he realized he was a mortal all too late.

The Star Plasma Vessel Mission. He and Suguru had begged to take you and Shoko along, and so, the four of you went.

He wished that mission never happened.

Amanai Riko died at the age of 14, never able to truly live because of the fucked up system that runs Jujutsu Society. Satoru had finally learned RCT, but he had took brain damage and Suguru was on the verge of death.

You took on Fushiguro Toji and the last of the curses that had swarmed the four of you. It was a bloodbath. Satoru never gave enough props to Shoko. RCT is hard. They’re lucky to have her.

Suguru leaves, just like how all his loved ones are going to do, willingly or forcibly.

He’s ordered to kill him. He does. He comes back and cries ugly tears into you and Shoko until he physically can’t anymore.

His words ring in his head like a bell.

“Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru, or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?”

He never answered.

He found his comfort in you, because you were the only steadfast thing in his life. He loved you with everything he had, and he had a lot. He made sure to hang on to Shoko too.

He becomes a teacher. He gains students, including Toni’s little terror, Megumi. The kids love you.

It’s the happiest he’s been in a while.

Until Kenjaku comes. His eyes tell him it’s Getou Suguru. His soul knows otherwise.

Shibuya happens. Every sorcerer is dispatched, including Shoko, who’s not combat oriented, gets dispatched.

Shoko and you both meet him on the biggest battlefield. Shoko, like the stubborn person she is, insists on healing him. Satoru will never admit it, but she’s always been better at RCT than he has.

Then there’s you, the love of his life, the one person who’s been a constant in his life, who tosses off your jacket and runs into battle. His soul cries out for you, but it’s impossible for him to say it out loud when he has to focus on the fight.

Shoko falls first, and it hurts more than it was to make sure he didn’t get hit. As she takes her last breath, she hugs him one last time, and Gojo Satoru hugs back Ieiri Shoko’s lifeless body.

Then, he looks at you, who fought to the very end, knees to the ground and head to the sky. He scrambles to you, holding you in his arms as the calm before the storm erupts once more.

“Y/N…?”

“Yes, ‘Toru…?”

“Thank you for loving me.”

“I wanted to, and I always will.” You cough up blood mid-sentence, and Satoru knows you’re a goner.

“I love you, Gojo Satoru.”

He loves you so much, so so so much, but it wasn’t enough to make you stay. It wasn’t enough to make Suguru or Shoko stay.

He is Gojo Satoru. He is the Strongest.

He was a kid raised to believe he was a God. He fell off his pedestal.

He is the Strongest.

But without you, or his precious people, what is he really?

© solaarbeeam 2024. do not copy or repost anywhere.

[satellitesunset]

in terms of backstories in jjk; the one that I am personally kept up by is that of suguru geto and his parents. all we have is gojo's reaction to hearing about it from yaga. which in itself is so incredibly interesting.

personally, I chose to interpret his reaction as caused by geto having somewhat of a good relationship with his parents because, to me, it adds another layer to the tragedy of what he did. in this case, their murder by his hands is the final straw that cements him as committing to the goal; literally (and metaphorically) cutting the final thread that ties him to the non-sorcerers world. as opposed to an act of revenge to parents who abused him or alienated him. especially because their bodies weren't at the scene, which presents the question of what did he do to the corpses? did he crement them and just let them be? did he bury them? did he grieve his action but ultimately believe it was for the greater good?

a son who didn't care for his parents would have left them at the scene. he wouldnt have put in the effort to take care of their corpses. which makes the fact that he took care of the bodies in some shape way or form, in its own fucked up manor, telling.

[toastymarshie]

Thinking about how Itadori and Fushiguro were probably never suppose to meet.

Feel free to disagree with my argument or chalk it up to me being a sad ass bitch, but it does feel like that.

Feel free to add to this post or send me an ask lol.

Why do I feel like this?

Well, I can’t pinpoint the exact reasons for why I feel this way, I can give some evidence to back it up. I know that JJK is a shonen and it was going to start with Itadori Yuji and end with or without him.

Ofc the most obvious one is Yuji’s death and path leading up to it.

(I will refer to the manga at this point if I will put anime screenshots if I just have them at hand)

Their first meeting

As you can see Fushiguro was impressed by Itadori’s natural strength. Even comparing him to Maki. However that was the extent he was willing to give to a random person. A very one sided interaction.

Until

This is the moment the narrative shifts for both Megumi and Yuji. Yuji carrying a curse since the beginning of their meeting (how ironic!) and Megumi is going after him. Sure it’s to retrieve Sukuna’s finger but it’s there.

For anyone who doesn’t know for some odd reason, Megumi’s name translates to Blessing hence why Toji and mama Fushiguro call him such. Yes, his name meaning is important to not only Yuji but to the major players such as Gojo.

Also we have to talk about Grandpa Itadori’s last request.

Of course we know now that Grandpa’s last words were a curse to Yuji. How this last request shapes Yuji as a person in the coming chapters. Another curse to add to the list of curses. (Do the note the rule of three)

Then we get the scene in the hospital after Yuji’s grandfather dies. (Abridged for time)

This is when the plot finally kicks in. Yuji unknowably putting his friends in danger and Megumi has to go save them and the finger. I don’t personally count this as a curse for Yuji as it’s just the direct effect of the first curse I noted. Remember that Yuji comes in when he remembers his grandpa’s words.

Then finally we get to the final curse

Ryomen Sukuna

Itadori Yuji’s last and final curse that sealed his fate. The very thing that led him to the path he’s in. Not just him but also Fushiguro Megumi. From Shibuya to the current arc (Chapter 244-245) both of them have been by each other’s side trying their best to break this curse.

Remember, Yuji was going to be executed once he ate the first finger but due to Gojo’s interference and Megumi’s own personal feelings he was given a choice.

The first chapter really set them up to meet each other regardless of the factors that scream don’t do it/don’t follow him. Especially in hindsight, you can feel the tragedy brewing before it even begins. You somewhat know the consequences in the first chapter and it only grows worse in the second.

But that what makes a good tragedy.

Fuck you Gege you one eye cat

Now I’m gonna bring up chapter 9 for a bit because it’s history is very interesting. Gege did say that if the series didn’t do well, he will leave Yuji dead. (Ofc this didn’t happen and please help me find the source of this information. I know it was stated in an interview but I couldn’t find a translated version.)

Even then, it just solidifies my feelings.

This is the ending of the story. How it’s suppose to end.

Someone said that this seemed like a confession and I have to agree. Whether it’s romantic or platonic, Fushiguro’s feelings for Itadori are real.

Hear that?

That’s me sobbing.

With the recent chapters, it seem bleak but I believe that we will see Fushiguro again.

Yuji and Megumi will meet again maybe for the last time. I’m not Gege, but I trust him not really to give them a proper ending.

[ren-rambles-often]

'Tale of Winter and Spring' another goyuu arranged marriage fic that might just become a fave despite some reservations of mine!!! Let me explain!!! (Rec Review and thoughts)

This review was so sweetly requested by the actual author and lovely mutual of mine @star2112 (really love their name for some reason). So with that context and their permission I'll be going a bit more in depth, and letting them know where I feel they could improve upon. I do keep in mind that many ao3 authors aren't from the pro writing background so I'll be super gentle.

But before we get to that I will give you a quick summary and listing out the fic's strong points (and there are a lot (✿ ♡‿♡)

CW for review and the story itself: there will be spoilers in this rev so if you want to read it before hearing my thoughts go ahead and follow the link in the title. The story involves mpreg, omegaverse and dub con.)

Tale of Winter and Spring is set in historical Japan as all good fics should be, where Yuuji is given away to Gojo by his older brother Sukuna. Thing is Yuuji is in love with next heir of the Zenin clan, Megumi and he's very, very, very unhappy with what's happening. Nevertheless he goes through it all with some very un-Yuuji like gloom )don't worry, we'll get to that). Its an ongoing fic so we don't know the end or which direction the plot itself is taking but for now there's a whole lot of intrigue and hints of Geto coming into the picture to ruin (or maybe not ruin) everything happening.

There's a handful of things that made this story a bit challenging to read but one of the many things I have to give props to is the development of the FushIta relationship side of Yuuji's story. I don't hate FushIta but it's one of many jjk ships that makes me grit my my teeth when it's not a side story in a goyuu ntr fic. So reading the development of their bond here… actually made me kick my feet a bit, is the author a FushIta shipper in disguise??? We'll never know ig ¯_(ツ)_/¯

There's the flashback scene where they're talking about books they read and after some banter Yuuji's like,

"hey megumi… in the future, let's go North, and see if those demons are real or not."

And I felt that, especially since Yuuji does end up going North (Gojo's Clan location if I remember correctly) but Megumi isn't there with him and it's much colder and lonely for him since he can't relate to Satoru at all.

Genuinely almost sobbed ಥ‿ಥ

Another thing I did enjoy was Sukuna's backstory and part of me really wanted more of it and him. It's said he got his hands dirty but I'd love to know what exactly this entails as it would really add more depth to the evilness of his character which is mostly told but not shown. It's easy to so say oh this character does evil things and imply that constantly but harder to display those evil things and show them doing the tragedies that solidify them in the reader's mind like 'yeah, this dude is the worst'. Example, Sukuna throughout the entirety of jjk lollll.

And there was an opportunity for the story to show one of such things which I'll get to in the critique part of this review.

I also really love the characterization which is very important you're making and alternate world. You don't always have to put characters in roles they'll fit but one thing I do like is when a they reflect that role with their canon personalities. And I know someone's already going "well fanon doesn't care about canon" which is fine and true but realistically many fanfic readers, myself included aren't into ooc content. What counts as ooc does vary from person to person tho, especially bc different people interpret characters differently.

Despite the various interpretations there is a common way a character is viewed and enjoyed, which is why, despite how much I enjoyed reading, there was something about Yuuji that constantly…called out to me.

I'm getting into the critique section now to talk about that. Where the writing shines in dialogue and interesting world building, it's kind of falls back in consistency.

Somewhere at the start, in the wedding scene, Utahime says they all have high expectations of Yuuji putting Gojo in his place with kind of indicates a firey kind of attitude but up until this point Yuuji has being quiet and avoidant and kind of continues to be until some of the later chapters. So it's weird she puts this responsibility on him when his character hasn't shown any signs of it. It's not one of more glaring instances but it's one that precedes a few others.

There's another part where Yuuji apologizes for speaking angrily, but Gojo says he doesn't have to because he knows he's the problem. Yuuji's internal thoughts proceed to view that as his apology being discarded which don't exactly make sense to me and ends up feeling like he's looking for reasons to be nitpicky at this point.

Character building isn't a huge problem but it's always the little things that manage add to the overall picture. There's a scene where Sukuna wants to take Yuuji to the Zenin clan and Wasuke doesn't want him to bc everyone thinks Sukuna wants to sell him off. Thing is Sukuna says he's not depraved enough to use an omega child like that but in my opinion it would have done his story and Yuuji's a greater service for him openly consider it and hold that over Yuuji's head for good behavior. He's evil, even if he'd actually never do it, evil people say evil shit.

With all this talk about characters it's time I finally expand on what really got to me and that would be Yuuji. My baby boy is literally all over the place. Yuuji canonically is a very social characters, eager to please and more ready than usual to give other's the benefit of a doubt. Here he's very quick to judge and overly guarded to me.

Now, I'm not saying has to overly friendly either but there's a balance that could struck with him not insulting or assuming things of Gojo constantly, and yeah the white haired bastard doesn't make it especially easy but one of Yuuji's admirable traits is his fortitude and patience with those around him.

Nevertheless, a part of me does think this was a stylistic choice to convey the disparity of Yuuji's behavior with his two love interests; Yuuji is only truly his best self with Megumi and the worst with Gojo. And understanding this, I was able to look past his behavior with the hope and interest of seeing both him and Gojo warm up to each other.

Also, did I mention it's still a mystery why Gojo asked for Yuuji's hand in marriage. Either that or it was mentioned that it's bc of his scent and I forgot (I've been through a lot this week forgive me (〒﹏〒)

My final critique is the writing structure and grammar. Grammar and writing are like 80% of a fic for me. If I don't vibe, no matter how interesting the concept I just might not read.

Thing is, I do vibe with Star2112's writing a lot, it simple yet beautiful in the way in which it conveys the emotions and moods of the story and characters. I enjoyed reading the scene where Yuuji freaks out cuz Gojo didn't spend the wedding night with him and now it may harm his reputation and Sukuna's. I enjoyed every FushIta interaction and I most definitely enjoyed when towards the ending of chapter 8, Yuuji allows Gojo to touch his belly and feel the baby while the Alpha spoke it (also Gojo wants to be a girl dad and that made me throw my phone across the room screaming cuz cuuuute (●♡∀♡)!!!!)

What I didn't enjoy was the structure of the sentences.

"Sentences work like this," Ren says. ✅

" Not like this, " They add. ❌

Figuring out how dialogue and quotations work are a big step for every author's writing journey, it's common not to know if you end with commas of full stops but for the most part, that doesn't really matter. Leave no spaces between the quoted sentence and the quotations marks and always start a new statement with a capital, doesn't matter if it was a continuation of what they were saying in a previous sentence.

Capital.

Grammar-wise, there were a lot of frequent errors but none to glaring and they could all be fixed with a more thorough read through. It can be pretty hard without a beta reader bestie but I believe you, there's so much talent for you not to give the best reading experience you're able to.

Overall, this is definitely a fic I would recommend to avid arranged marriage goyuu fans that love the DRAMA (and if you're like me who likes to read Megumi getting cucked, tho it's not exactly cheating here we'll manage ( ꈍᴗꈍ)💕

At the end of the day, a lot of this advice is partly objective, all authors are free to take what they feel they want to work on and leave the rest. Or leave it all because what matters about writing and fanfiction is that you enjoy what you do. Other's enjoying it is just a bonus/by product.

And to Star2112, you're doing so good, keep it up, I'm subbed and ready to see more, especially if I'll get to read goyuu raising their kid or kids, I'm a sucker for 'oop it's twins'. I'd also encourage you to read more books outside fanfic if you don't if you're still interested in dialogue and sentence structure. You have a strong voice and I think working on your weak points will really amplify that. I'm honored you came to me and hope I was able to help.

If anyone else wants to request, recommendations and reviews are kinda two different things. If you Recommend me a fic and I may or may not talk about it, depends. If you request I Review (for analysis and advice) a fic it has to be yours and you'll have to prove it to me. Depending on what you want I'll either write a post or just let you know my thoughts privately. DMs open so don't be shy.

Thanks for sticking to the end, go check out Star's work to get in on that action and happy Easter my precious freaks!!!

Ps: will edit this later, my brain is literally on fire, bye lovelies (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

[almightygremlinblob]

Rant about JJK 261 leaks and mild spoilers. Just ignore unless you're passionate about stories like I am or wanna hear what I say or both. This is very, VERY long.

Bro, listen.

LISTEEEN.

I'm not mad at Gege, writing is HARD. Like, legitimately! It's SO difficult to bring a vision - an entire unique world with complex characters - to fruition and CONTINUE that story to its end.

And there's still so much to love about JJK, despite everything.

THAT.

BEING.

SAID.

Some of the choices he's making, writing wise, are just...such missed opportunities for his characters and it's making the story itself suffer.

Part 1 - Sukuna Ryomen

Oh, Sukuna... The strongest sorcerer in history, who wiped out a lot of the families in an era where sorcerers and curses were at their strongest. He was the top dog of top dogs. Blah, blah, blah - WELL ESTABLISHED. Actually, ever since he defeated Gojo that's been established to the audience. And it's been win, after win for him. Which is good, in times of peril - the villain should be competent at what they do and keep the stakes high. That's good. The problem is, the formula - the way that the storyteller goes about showing this - keeps repeating over and over. Now, the fights themselves - as fights - are great. JJK has always had amazing fights and was never lacking in that department. However, the emotional investment the audience has in the fights is waning because it follows pretty much a predictable formula already. Sukuna kills character, another character is hyped up and joins the battle, Sukuna struggles just a bit but is actually just "holding back". Bam. Character dead. Next. There must be casualties, of course, BUT - from a writing standpoint - casualties can be built without diminishing the sacrifices and arcs of other characters. Tragedy can be shown without the expense of the character arcs, because to throw so much into a character without any meaningful conclusion hurts the story itself - and that doesn't necessarily mean they need to accomplish what they set out to do. For example; Choso didn't die to further showcase the cruelty of JJK's world, and how sorcerers are disposable. He didn't die to showcase Sukuna's hatred of Yuuji, and to further fuel Yuuji's hatred of his soul uncle (????). He died just because it's sad that the "doting and responsible big brother" dies and for more casualties. The THEMES surrounding Sukuna, and the entire series in general - of isolation vs. companionship, of old vs new, of strength and what it means to be strong, of love and the burden of it, his fuckin' WORLDVIEW and how it's so true for the world of JJK (that, contrary to most Shounen stories, the world is tragic and unfair and the power of friendship doesn't always work - "love is trash") could be better conveyed than what's essentially a tournament with him as the final boss. It's so frustrating, too, because the way the story goes about it - not only does it take away from the other character's complexities and developments, BUT ALSO HIS. Like, all of his story beats and the character deaths could have been hit in a way that ADDS to Sukuna's threat level while not diminishing the gravity and development of the sacrifices of the other characters. Hell, maybe even adding to them than just - oh, he/she/they're dead now. Sukuna is such a complex character, even in his simplicity, but the WAAY the story shows this makes not just HIS CHARACTER suffer...but EVERYONE ELSE'S TOO!

Can you tell how much I love Sukuna lmao.

Part 2 - Gojo, Geto and Shoko

Oh my GOD, guys. The dynamic between Gojo and Geto - absolute gold. Could they have used Geto to showcase the unfairness of the world MORE? Yes - he was the PRIME candidate for that, even in Kenjaku taking over his body. Gojo though? Killed his role in the story - showcased the themes of love and its burden, of strength = isolation, and the unfairness of the Jujutsu society WHILE easing the audience into the world of JJK? Applause. Absolutely love that for you, honey. HOWEVER; what we got with them was still really, really good. Shoko, though. She was sidelined SO HARD. Not only was using Gojo's body as a puppet a chance to showcase even more the unfairness of the cogwheels the sorcerers are placed in - we could have seen the very personal and deep ways that this world, and the lifestyle sorcerers are forced into, affects those within the cogwheel individually. I mean, all her friends from her high school years which she's so "nostalgic for" are DEAD, because of the world she's in, aside from Utahime and Gojo. You'd think she would've protested to using his body in such a way but she was...apparently FINE with it?? WHAT???

Even if she thought he could win, or was actually just nonchalant about it cuz of the many deaths she's already experienced - at least one scene where she's alone with her thoughts, would've been nice as a chance to develop her character and showcase the point above MORE. "I was there, too..." MY ASS, MAN. See? Because of that one little thing, now this line is just completely empty and Shoko's character suffers. The trio's entire dynamic suffers and so does the "precious/best high school years" bit. Did all of it actually mean anything to the characters or are they beating that point just for drama? It just becomes Geto x Gojo drama (which, to be fair, I do love BUT-) Shoko, you poor girl. You were completely wasted potential and I just...feel so bad for her, oh my GOD. Not to mention pretty much ALL of the women cast of JJK - although, strangely enough, Yorozu (and even Kashimo) accomplished what she was there to do; which was to propose the "love" part and how it relates to Sukuna's character. So good on you, you beautiful, beautiful simp(s).

Part 3 - Yuuji Itadori

Oh my sweet boy... ...who keeps getting sidelined as the protagonist. Don't get me wrong, he's been having more of a spotlight lately and I am SO HAPPY for that - because not only has he earned it, he has the biggest reasons to defeat Sukuna and gain his current wins. And even when he's embraced being part of the cogwheel, his beef with Sukuna is PERSONAL. He doesn't even want to see him suffer or anything. No, Yuuji just wants him DEAD - then he moves on to the next curse. Then when he's supposedly "surpassed Gojo in potential" he just... Keeps getting sidelined???

Part 4 - Kenjaku

...

Do I REALLY need to say anything?

Again, I am not mad at the state of JJK right now. Only confused. If I wanted to be mad, I'd look at RWBY's back and forth writing. As I've said, writing is DIFFICULT. It is SO insanely difficult to bring a world to life and continue its story to the end. And I can only imagine the pressure of having it blow up like it has these past years. BUT BRO...

MY GOD BRO.

WHAT IS HAPPENING BRO.

[fan-dweeb]

Not to be that person, but I think it’s time to acknowledge we’re at the precipice for either change from sacrifice or mass annihilation. Now hear me out-

As a dweeb, I’m going to look at this from what I know best: fiction.

Let’s look at:

Barbie (growing up and learning to let go of an idealistic life)

Marvel (the old heroes making way for a new generation)

These two are the most blatant and famous examples I can think of from western media. Now let’s look at anime:

Jjk (hottest topic recently; alrdy a lot of meta, and one post explained it rlly well w/ smth along the lines of “Gojo spent his life trying to reshape the old system, without realising in order to eradicate the old system he himself has to go bcuz he himself is such an integral part to that system”)

bnha (say what you will about the fandom, the anime makes some good points abt morality and societal change. And one of them is the sacrifice of the current heroes to create new generation of Hope. See: All Might & Hawks)

These are the most popular shonen anime I can think of that delivers this point well. Ofc u can argue that these “changes” are just to fit a fictional narrative/ add to character tragedies (which is true to an extent), but as a literature fanatic, I do think there’s merit in thinking more critically abt how fiction is closely linked to reality. (Think of the rise in gothic literature, hero comics, or even in academic texts with the pressure to produce)

This links also to (imo) the rise in villain sympathy, that I may or may not touch on in another post later. But in case I don’t get to doing that, it boils down to an acknowledgement that there’s something wrong abt society as it is now and the need to challenge the accepted status quo. (There’s a certain element of danger to this tho. I’ll just leave that bit as food for thought until later)

The point being, it’s time for us as a generation to make a choice. But I don’t think, at our current stage, that we’re strong enough to make the meaningful choice.

[hermitw]

Ok so I had some thoughts last night that go into my theory on Yuuji's domain and the future of jujutsu kaisen

Tldr: I think Yuuji's domain could be a cryogenic sort.

Even with just Yuta's abilities, I think it's possible to bring Geto back - (sukuna grew Yuuji a new heart, so Geto's body could be restored as well.) there's also strong evidence that Yuta and Kenjaku are related - they have rly similar abilities. Copying, healing, etc.

Maybe Yuuji's domain could put Gojo's soul back together. Maybe they can bring reanimated sorcerers back, like with the old Hokage in Naruto.

We've already seen something like that with Toji.

And with Geto's body betraying Kenjaku - it might be enough to bring them back without souls.

Also, Nobara had a near-death experience and I'm not disregarding the nail as a reference to her. She could return with some new understanding and unprecedented technique.

And I'm not in denial about jujutsu kaisen being a tragedy - I think that even if they all come back, they are likely to die again against the merger.

Imagining Yuuji in his domain hoping for them to revive reminded me of how The Shining ends (movie, not book, book ended better tho) w Jack alone and frozen.

Edit to add: more hope for Gojo in ch. 262

I saw the recent interview w gege but I stand by my theories on Gojo coming back, anyway I also have another one

You know that Sukuna took him down w the slice that cut the world

Do you think that his soul is also in two pieces?

I mean, sukuna was split between 20 fingies (and there are similarities between those 2 already)

I get the impression that the soul might reside heavily in the head, but it's definitely through the entire body.

So Gojo can be dead and alive at the same time.

His soul can be in the airport and in the living world.

Mazie speculates on this image and Nobara's return in this video, but I have a more Gojo-centric interpretation. (yes I did always believe that Nobara is fine, I have at least 4 reasons, but about Gojo):

The fish represents Gojo, cut in half, and the eyes could represent his six eyes - - but they also resemble Sukuna's marks, specifically when he is possessing someone else's body, not in his true form.

The nail could 100% be another clue about Nobara, but it makes me think of resonance, of the link to a soul.

Maybe this is all to show that Gojo is beginning to possess his own /Yuta's body, that he's half here and half not, learning to work with this new state.

I think that's all I had to say 🫡

Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one

[katerina-marie]

The Tragedy of a Duality

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader and (Past) Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6, Chp 7 (Final)

In the present, you are a sorcerer and the cherished wife of the Honored One. In an era long gone, remembered by only one, you were ordinarily human and the beloved bride of the King of Curses. How fitting it would be, in an evening of destruction, to have your heart torn in two.

Content: JJK Universe and Canon Events (tho tweaked to incorporate reader), Fluff, Angst, Flashbacks, Ambiguous ending, Violence, Death, Female reader but left descriptively vague, No use of y/n, True Form Sukuna in the past, Itadori Yuji is Sukuna's vessel in the present but nothing inappropriate b/n reader and Itadori as the vessel, Will add more CW to each chapter if needed.

WC: 6.1k

A/N: A flashback, some cracky humor (cause it all goes downhill after this), and Sukuna's POV.

Chapter 6

You are not certain, but you think it is close to evening by the way darkness begins to creep onto the walls of your bed chamber. 

A throbbing ache feels as though it may nearly split your skull, and it slithers down behind your eyes and nose. There is a chill to your body that has persisted since the last time you fell asleep, and if you request one more blanket from the servants, you worry they might consider putting you in the fire completely as nothing else seems to suffice. You briefly entertain the idea. Anything, really, if it will get the aching of your muscles and joints to cease. The only small mercy of being struck with an illness is the way you are left relatively unbothered to burrow beneath your mountain of blankets and slip in and out of feverish slumber as you please. 

“Would you care to tell me why I had to wait until now to hear from Uraume that you have been bedridden?” 

Were unbothered, it would seem. 

“Bedridden is a bit extreme, Sukuna. It is just a fleeting sickness.” 

Still nestled under your blankets, you manage to open one eye and peek out. Your husband stands just before your bed with his upper arms crossed and his others hidden beneath his white robes. There is no humor to soften his face, and you let out a small sigh of defeat. 

“I will be alright,” you assure him. “I asked Uraume not to say anything to you before you left yesterday after our midday meal, so please do not be cross with them.” 

“And I may ask again; why?” 

You try to smile at Sukuna this time, but you suspect it might be a little lopsided or dazed—something fever induced. “Well, it is nothing overly concerning and I am being well cared for. Besides, I did not want to get in the way of whatever conquering or pillaging or other kingly duty you were whisked away for.” 

Sukuna does not reciprocate the haphazard grin on your face, nor does he bristle at the way you try to poke fun at him. “That is foolish of you.” 

You gawk at him. “Well, that is rude. If you will not be kind, go off elsewhere and I will find another to listen to my complaints.” 

You are only half-heartedly disgruntled by his brusqueness, but you go to throw a blanket back over yourself nonetheless when you feel his hand seize your wrist. He bends at the waist to hover over you, and his eyes do not let go of yours. “You will inform me immediately the next time you are ill.” 

This time, your eyes narrow and indignance sharpens your voice. “And for what purpose would that serve? You are very busy and we have perfectly adept staff who are able to answer my beck and call. You do not need to waste time tending to me, Sukuna.” 

Your vehemence drives his back upwards. His arms hang still at his sides and you can see his jaw clenching. “It would please me to do so, should you give me the opportunity.” 

The words freeze whatever curt retort you have ready on your tongue, and you blink at him, admittedly dumbfounded. 

“Do you think I would not?” Sukuna asks, and you don’t particularly like the way his voice sounds almost hurt. You open your mouth, ready to speak, but you aren’t sure if you should be apologizing or offering some kind of explanation because if you are being very honest, you are not quite sure if he would have spent the day at your side while you languish in sickness. 

“Ah,” he murmurs, and this time there is no denying that you have wounded him. “I am sorry that I have acted in a way that makes you think so.” 

If you look back on the last six months of your marriage, there is not any true example that would sway you into believing one way or another. Sukuna has his moments of tenderness with you, but they do not hide away his tendency towards terseness or foul moods, though that is mostly reserved for his communication with others. 

“It is not that,” you tell him slowly, and you finally feel ashamed when surprise makes his brows lift. “I am afraid I have hastily made an unfair assumption. I apologize.”

Sukuna does nothing for a moment but look at you, but eventually he nods and takes a step back. “No apology necessary. I will leave you to rest.” 

Your heart lurches in your chest when he turns to leave and you see something akin to disappointment on his face, so you quickly claw your way out from under your blankets to sit up and call his name. 

“Please wait,” you ask of him, and you are grateful when Sukuna does pause at your door. “I would like it if you would lay with me.” 

He hesitates, and now exposed to the cool air of the room, you shiver. 

“If that would please you,” he says quietly, and Sukuna is already slipping into bed before you can blink. You shuffle over to make room for him, but he is quick to draw you against his chest and tighten the blankets around you both. The heat that radiates off his skin is delightful, and you make a noise of contentment as you wiggle in as closely to him as you can get. You feel a pleased rumble in his chest under your cheek and it brings a smile to your face. 

“Thank you,” and you whisper it into his skin. 

The two of you remain silent and still underneath the blankets for long enough that sleep begins to steal you away, but Sukuna’s voice just happens to catch you before you drift off. 

“Being gentle,” he starts, and it sounds as though he is a little unsure of himself. “It is not in my nature. It is not something that comes obviously and easily to me.” You lean your head back so you can look at him, and you are thoroughly wrecked when you realize there is vulnerability in his eyes. You cling to him a little tighter then. “But for you, because there is nothing that will ever come before you in terms of what is important and precious to me, I will do my best and try.” 

Tears sting your eyes and something like love surges inside of you, and nothing—not even the pain in your head—would keep you from pressing your mouth against his. Sukuna allows it, returns it with equal fervor, but pulls away from you sooner than you would like. He smiles at the whine you let out and the pout that turns your lips down, and you feel his hand cup your neck as he urges your head back down against his chest. 

“Hush now and rest.” 

You scoff, a tired breathless thing, but your tone is affectionate when you tell him, “what a terrible monster you are.” 

------------------------

The grand reveal of a not-dead Itadori to Fushiguro and Kugisaki takes place as planned the following day. The two take it a little better than you anticipated, though you still cringe through the entire surprise that you unsuccessfully tried to convince Satoru not to do. They stare in disbelief and shock as Satoru ushers Itadori out from the cramped storage bin he’s in. They don’t say a word as their friend waves at them with a wide grin on his face, and before you can protest, Satoru simply laughs and encourages them to have a good day in training before bounding off to who-knows-where, leaving you to gently reassure the three of them and offer a brief explanation for the whole situation.

“So, you knew the entire time?” Kugisaki questions, and skepticism is all over her face as she stands with her hand on a cocked hip. The three first years hover around you under the tree in the corner of the training field, and both Kugisaki and Fushiguro look as if they’ve aged five years. “Gojo-sensei didn’t lie or hide it from you?” 

“No,” you say with an adamant shake of your head. “I don’t think he’s capable of keeping a secret like that from me. Not that it would be in his best interest to do so.” 

It’s not speculation that has you telling her such. Many times over the years Satoru has proven his inability to lie to you, or even distort the truth in a way that could be considered deceptive. All it takes is a knowing look in his direction and Satoru is spilling his guts. 

“Yes, alright! It was me that broke Nanami’s glasses. Please don’t tell him! I already sold out Kugisaki for it.” 

“Oh…no. That is not an engagement ring I’ve been hiding under my pillow. Why would you ask that?” 

“So, I maybe, kind of told Suguru you find his technique disgusting and that’s why he won’t partner up with you for assignments anymore, but hey! Don’t be mad. Now you’re with me!”

Or even last night for instance, after each of you exchange apologies for the earlier fight, Satoru hurriedly explains that he didn’t intentionally hide the fact he fed Itadori the second finger and just simply forgot to mention it. You laugh nervously and quickly forgive him again as you try to hide the fact that you have forgotten about that particular detail. Nanami must have chastised him in some way, and you suppose you're grateful. But really, you just want Satoru to stop looking at you with that kicked puppy expression. 

You shake your head of the memories and look back at your students. “It almost never ends well for him, so it’s not something he does often.” 

Fushiguro scoffs and shoots you an exasperated look. “Does he at least learn his lesson and apologize?” 

His words exasperate the last lingering bits of guilt you still feel from yesterday’s argument, and you wince as you try to come up with a reply that would restore the image of Satoru’s character.

Kugisaki beats you to it and throws her head back in laughter. “What a sight that would make! Gojo-sensei begging your forgiveness with a bouquet of flowers in hand!”

Itadori gags and Fushiguro looks like he feels the same. 

“Pathetic and sad is exactly what that would look like,” he says, and he starts to walk away with Itadori to avoid any more talk of Satoru and grand romantic gestures.

You sigh defeatedly and use a hand to wave off Kugisaki’s suggestion. 

“There’s really no need for such extremes,” you say. “Besides, Satoru knows better than to get me flowers.” Your face puckers like you’ve smelled something rancid.

Kugisaki doesn’t have the chance to respond before Itadori is snapping his head towards you so harshly and abruptly that you would worry for the bones in his neck if there weren’t black tattoos suddenly taking over his face. You’d say Sukuna nearly looks stunned stupid if offense didn’t have him gaping at you.

“You do not care for flowers?” 

It doesn’t come out as a question so much as it does a demand for an explanation, and you are perplexed as to why such an asinine topic of conversation could possibly prompt him into coming out. Especially when he looks grumpier now than every other time you’ve seen him.

Fushiguro and Kugisaki, on the other hand, look very much like they’ve seen a ghost. 

“Uh, no,” you tell him, and Sukuna’s head recoils back like you slapped him. “I don’t like them. Something about the pollen or whatever itches my nose and makes my eyes water. I avoid them the best I can, honestly.” 

Sukuna can only blink at you, and it isn’t until you lift your hands in a tentative apology that laughter begins to build in his chest. It rises in volume exponentially until he rears his head back, and it bursts out of him in a way that is nearly hysterical. It makes the hair on your arms stand up, and you, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki take an uneasy step back from him. His laughter cuts off and when he turns his eyes back to you, they are wide in their excitement and his grin is full of teeth.

“Well, that is new!” Sukuna thunders, and you have no earthly idea as to what he could be referring to. “You did always know how to surprise me.” 

And just as quickly as they appeared, the tattoos fade, and within a moment, Itadori is shaking his head and looking to you for clarification. You shrug because it’s not like you have any to offer. 

After some gentle reassurance of their safety, you coax your students onto the training field to spar with one another while you watch from under the shade of a tree. With your thoughts scattered between all manner of things, time passes without you perceiving it, and Satoru is waltzing back onto the training field an hour later, munching on an apple and looking as though he has no care in the world.

“How are my beloved students doing?” he asks when he takes his place by your side, though he stands just a bit farther than he usually would. You give him a hesitant smile and wave a hand towards where Kugisaki has just dealt a particularly harsh blow to Itadori’s side as she cackles. Fushiguro watches from a few feet away, looking very much like he’d rather be anywhere else. When Satoru calls to them in greeting, all three turn and offer waves and ‘hellos’ in varying levels of enthusiasm. 

“Just fine,” you tell Satoru, and he bats his lashes at the pointed look on your face, “though they would probably do even better if their esteemed teacher actually showed up to teach them.” 

Satoru shrugs in a what can you do attitude, and you roll your eyes as you swipe the apple from his hand to take a large bite of it. The remaining tension between you two eases, and you’re thrilled to see the small makings of a smile on his lips.

“Fruit thief,” he complains, and you giggle around a mouthful of apple. 

Suddenly, a loud curse and an exclamation of surprise sound out from where the students are on the field. When you and Satoru spin around in that direction, Kugisaki is sprawled out on the ground face towards the sky and laying farther away from the other two than what should reasonably be possible. Fushiguro stares with a haunted look on his face. Itadori is breathing heavily and looks just as shocked. When he glances down at his hands as if they could explain what happened, you notice the slits under his eyes flicker shut and a pool of dread settles in your stomach. 

Satoru looks at you briefly before he’s striding out onto the field with hands buried in his pockets. 

“Yuji,” he calls, though there’s no discipline in voice. “Let’s not try and throw our peers halfway across the field, okay?”

All three students laugh, albeit nervously, as Satoru goes to check on them, and you are left to worry about what in the world could have set off Sukuna. 

------------------------

There are a number of things you could blame your lack of reaction on, but you would probably just chalk it up to plain exhaustion if you live long enough for anyone to ask. 

While Fushiguro and Kugisaki are somewhere up above on the highway fighting two curses, you and Itadori handle one under a bridge in a shallow ravine. You manage to dodge the first blow from the curse across from you, but your limbs are already weary and the ground is slick, and you aren’t quick enough to defend against the second one. In a final moment, you throw your arms up in some meaningless way to protect your face and clench your eyes shut. You have a split second to anticipate the pain before a great force has knocked you to the ground and into the cold earth below.

“Move!” Sukuna growls in your ear, and it takes you a beat to recognize that the weight at your back is him. You think his hands might clench into your shirt and maybe it’s his nose in your hair, but you have no more time to consider it as he is up and off of you as soon as you blink. 

You push onto your hands and peer over your shoulder where the curse now sits in a pile of ash. When you sit up completely, Sukuna is standing off to your right and looks down at you, his face completely devoid of any emotion. His shirt is torn at the elbow and singed in a couple spots. He rolls his shoulder twice, loosening the muscles there, and though he makes no move to help you up, his hand clenches and unclenches rapidly. You get up on your feet then.

“You are unharmed?” he asks, and there’s a rough edge to his voice that you don’t recall being there before.

You glance up at him in the middle of sweeping dirt from your arms and hands, a fruitless attempt since you’re covered in an amount of mud that only a shower would fix, and he is clearly expecting your immediate answer. 

“I’m alright.”

Sukuna nods once and then shifts away from you to sweep his eyes along the edges of the trees and further down the ravine. You recognize the meticulous way he scans the scenery, deeming it clear of any remaining threats, and the action tugs at something in your chest. Satoru tends to do the same thing anytime the two of you go on an assignment together, and you always tease him for his over precaution. 

“Thank you,” you add quietly, because the extra protective measure certainly isn’t for himself. Sukuna doesn’t turn back or respond to your gratitude, but his lower eye takes glimpses of you out of its corner. 

“Can I ask you a question?” you blurt out. 

Sukuna doesn’t respond right away. All that fills the silence is the trickling of a nearby stream and the faint crackling rustle of the tree branches above your head as they sway slightly in the evening breeze. But then he is angling his chin to glance at you over his shoulder. “If I am not mistaken, you just did.” 

He sounds less than enthused, but curiosity has been eating you alive since the very moment Sukuna first made himself known to you, and so the words tumble forth with no hope to stop them.

“What happened?”

Surely he must know what you are referring to, and you see Sukuna’s shoulders heave with a great sigh. He splays his fingers wide, and the veins and tendons in his hands pop in a way that looks painful. With an eerie slowness, he turns toward you and levels you with a look that has you immediately regretting the question.

“Do you really wish to know?” The edge of his voice is nearly taunting, almost tempting. 

No. Yes. Maybe. It’ll keep you up at night if you don’t know, but you worry you’ll never sleep the same again if you do. 

Sukuna must see the indecision on your face, and he makes the choice for you.

“Well then,” he begins casually, but his demeanor as he starts to walk towards you is anything but. It takes all your concentration to stay rooted to your spot even though instinct tells you to flee. “To what extent will your curiosity be satiated?”

Anxiety is churning your stomach, and something about this is very wrong. His movements are predatory in their preciseness, and his eyes are narrowed, hardened by something unknown to you. He is different. Something has shifted, and you wouldn’t have called Sukuna kind, but whatever keeps the ferocity of his anger-adjacent emotions in check is long-gone. When he comes to a stop an arm’s length apart, he smirks and it is cruel.

“Would it thrill you to hear that I know how you taste?”

You feel the color bleed away from your face because surely he can’t mean—

 “And certainly in more ways than you are thinking.” 

His eyes track the bobbing of your throat when you swallow loud enough for you both to hear. At the same time, your foot slides backward in the mud to maintain distance, and his follows suit.

“Or,” Sukuna emphasizes, and his eyes flare wide. “How would you feel if I told you that the blame for your death lies at my feet?” 

It’s the first confirmation you get for something you have suspected—that if what he says is true, you died centuries ago—but the implication that it’s Sukuna’s fault is something you hadn’t considered, and the idea is terrifying and prompts more questions that you don’t have the gall to ask. 

“Nevermind,” you tell him. You look out around you and then up at the highway to see if you can spot Fushiguro and Kugisaki anywhere, eager to be done with this conversation. But Sukuna is not done with you, and he creeps just a little closer. 

“But you want to know,” he croons, and now your heart is starting to race and the fine hair on your arms stand straight. “Shall I describe to you how you used to mewl and beg when I had you under me? Or that you liked when I would sink my teeth into that spot where your neck meets your shoulder.” 

Sukuna tilts his head, and the innocence of it is such a harsh contrast to the severity of him. “Tell me, does that husband of yours do the same?” 

“Please, stop.” Normally you’d hate the weakness in your voice and the way it nearly comes out in a whimper, but you don’t care, not when your only priority is getting away from him. You take a hurried step back and your heel slips, and there is a sickening swoop in your stomach as you begin to pitch backwards.

But in a movement too quick for you to see, Sukuna catches you around your upper arms. You dangle back in his grip as he lowers his head so closely to yours that your noses almost touch. His eyes burn red, his mouth is twisted into snarl, and he must be able to feel the way your breath stutters out over his face. Sukuna bows over you, and behind his head, the midnight blue of the night sky encompasses the view of your peripherals. In the back of your mind, you take notice of the fact that you don’t feel the prick of his nails against your skin.

“Do you dream of me?” Sukuna whispers, and it is hushed and frenzied and derisive. His eyes dart down once to your lips. “Do you have nightmares about what will happen when I get a hold of that last finger? Whom do you think I will come for first—you, or your beloved?”

You wrench yourself back with a sob, and Sukuna somehow relents. His hands leave your arms as rapidly as they came, but you stand steady and upright when he appears a couple feet away. 

“Ah,” Sukuna chides, and satisfaction makes his expression haughty, though there is something mournful hiding in the lines of his face. “You remember me now; a monster—evil, if you do say so yourself.” Shame passes over you quickly as you realize he heard the tail end of your argument with Satoru. 

 “Well, I am pleased to meet your expectations.” He sneers at you as he shoves his hands into his pockets, and you hear fabric tear. If you didn’t know any better, you would say you wounded him. 

But that can’t be possible, not when he is what he claims to be and what you accuse him of. You are reminded now of what a pointless endeavor this is. Whatever it is you want to call it—a latent curiosity, a brief musing for passing boredom—is irrelevant, as is whatever tragic history that may or may not have occurred a thousand years ago. There is plenty of reasonable doubt for you to conclude that only a shred of truth might hide in between the vitriol Sukuna spits. As for the scant moments of tenderness, where his eyes bleed longing and every inch of him yearns to touch you, you dismiss them as fleeting instances of torment in the name of entertainment. Gentleness would be a facade he wears and something he couldn’t be familiar with. Monsters don’t know such things. 

“Nevermind,” you say, and this time your voice is firm and unwavering. “I don’t want to know.”

Silence follows and Sukuna is unfazed by your answer. He doesn’t try to persuade you, and you think he sees the finality in your face. The lowering of his eyes and the clenching of his jaw might betray the emotion he’s working to keep concealed—disappointment, regret, misery—but he turns and begins to walk away before you can study him any further. 

“I will leave the brat over here for you,” he calls and then slips into the darkness of the trees. There is something resigned and dismissive in the sound of his voice and the way he waves a hand over one shoulder, and it leaves you to wonder what will happen the next time you meet Ryomen Sukuna.

------------------------

When you whisper “I’m sorry” into the skin between Satoru’s shoulder blades, it is hours after you return home muddy and exhausted from your assignment, and enough time has passed since the two of you went to bed that you both should already be asleep. Satoru might have been close to it with the groggy way he says your name, but he stirs nonetheless and twists under the covers so he can face you instead. 

“What for?” he asks. His eyes blink heavily, and his hair is almost long enough now to tangle in his lashes, the white of them making where one ends and the other begins nearly indistinguishable. “We already apologized to each other, remember?” 

You appreciate the softness on his face and how forgiving his voice is, but you still shake your head. “You deserve a better apology. My feelings at that moment wouldn’t have changed, but I shouldn’t have let my temper get in the way of discussing things with you.” 

Satoru’s answering smile is a little sad, but he still reaches for you so he can wrap his arms under your neck and over your shoulder. He tugs you once more so your head leaves your pillow and is cushioned by his bicep instead. His embrace is as warm and comforting as you always know it to be, and you skim your nose against his collarbone to breathe in the lingering scent of his soap and shampoo. Doing so lowers the volume level of the noise in your head. 

“Well, then I owe you one too. I am sorry. I was being childish.” You feel Satoru tighten his arms around you and his chest expands against yours as he inhales deeply. “You have to know that you are the most precious thing to me. There is nothing else. I do not mean to coddle you or doubt your capabilities in any way. And I trust you implicitly.” He leans back slightly so he can look down at you. “There is no word fitting to describe what I would feel if something happened to you. So please, forgive me when I am unbearable. It is only because I love you.” 

It strikes you then that love could take the form of overprotection and possessiveness in a man who has already lost someone dear to him to a greater evil, and you hate that you now understand the feeling so well. 

You can only nod in response, mostly because tears are pricking your eyes and you are one second away from having your breath hitch in your throat, so you quickly duck your head to hide against him. Satoru, in all his perceptiveness, would certainly not miss it if you started crying, and you don’t know how to describe to him that those tears come from so many different things: exhaustion—mental and physical, anxiety, an overwhelming love for him, and shame that you hurt someone, even if one could argue he deserves it. 

But Satoru knows you too well, and his voice is full of concern when he asks, “did something happen earlier?” 

“Whom do you think I will come for first—you, or your beloved?”

“No,” you lie, and the hypocrisy of your conversation with the first years a while back isn’t lost on you. If anything, it’s what drives a single tear to break free from your lashes and dart over the bridge of your nose. You hope Satoru doesn’t feel it when it drops onto his skin. 

“Are you sure?” 

You’re not, but you don’t have the wherewithal, the energy, the bandwidth, or any type of capability to discuss that with him. Maybe later. Maybe another day. But for now, you are determined to put away any lingering thoughts of a monster with pink hair. You refuse to give into the fear he certainly tried to strike in you, unwilling to let it needle its way any further into the marriage you have now, regardless of whether or not you were part of another in some previous lifetime. 

So, you suck in a deep breath and blink away any moisture from your eyes because you are in the arms of the man you love, and when you shift back to look at Satoru, the smile on your face is effervescent and genuine. 

“I am sure.” 

------------------------

The simple mind of Itadori Yuji is utterly dull and painfully boring. There is nothing for Sukuna to do but contemplate the decisions that now find him trapped, and that—combined with the incessant chattering of the other two sorcerers beside the brat—is why he misses every sign of your approach. 

He doesn’t pay much attention when the white-haired one stands up with a moronic grin on his face, and Sukuna does not think that whatever suddenly catches the boy’s attention will be anything worth it. That is, until, the first images of you cross Itadori’s mind and Sukuna’s entire being is jolted so jarringly that he is in control and looking at you for the first time in a thousand years faster than anyone in the room can anticipate.

You are as stunning and magnificent as the day he first saw you, and your expression is nearly the same this time around; wide eyed, lips parted in a way that you probably don’t mean to be enticing, and Sukuna is lost in you all over again. Maybe it’s delerium—elation—that makes memories of the past flash in front of him as he drinks you in, and for a minuscule second, Sukuna is back under a pear tree.

But devastation is quick to follow when he realizes that recognition is not flickering in your eyes when your gaze meets his, and despite how you try to hold yourself strong and still, your limbs tremble and you lean away from him. Sukuna has spent a millennia mourning you, and regrettably, he wonders just how many lives of yours he missed while split into pieces across the land. He thinks it’s fitting penance because of what he let happen to you. However, in this moment you meet again, you seek out another, one who is not him and whose face is responsible for the smile on your lips that spurred him into movement just before. 

You belong to another, and you do not remember him.

Then, in the morgue, it’s the first time Sukuna is alone with you in centuries. He saved the brat whose body he borrows, only because he knows how your heart is soft for the lives of mortals, and once upon a time it opened up for him who is not. You thank him, and Sukuna knows he is powerless to anything you ask of him.

 You are only an arms reach away, and the combination of your scent and the way your mannerisms are familiar bring him as close to giddiness as he can allow. And then, however far-fetched, Sukuna thinks you might reach out and touch him, and he is ready to lean forward and accept your hand.

But Gojo Satoru is at the door, and when you turn to look at him, Sukuna is all but forgotten. The way you smile and preen for him is abhorrent, and in an unprecedented move of cowardice, Sukuna releases control back to Itadori Yuji, if only so he doesn’t have to watch as your husband stakes his claim on you. 

And then he hears you arguing with Gojo, and it dashes whatever pleasant emotion was building inside of him at the unexpected opportunity to see you. For once, Sukuna thinks he might be grateful for Itadori Yuji when he effectively ends the conversation. The vehement hatred in your voice and the words you spat repeat viciously inside his head, and Sukuna is demanding that Itadori flee the room so he no longer has to look at you. It pains him. You pain him. And truthfully, that has to be the underlying reason for why Sukuna lashes out at you in the middle of a ravine on a dark night. 

He relishes in the brief connection of your bodies, and allows himself the smallest inhale of your scent before he can bear it no longer and throws himself from you. Sukuna is torn between his anger at you and his need to concern himself with your wellbeing. Instead, he takes to diligently scouring the surrounding trees to ensure there isn’t hidden danger lurking. 

When you ask him in a voice that is timid and unsure to explain to you what really happened a millennium ago, fury mounts as Sukuna hears your words play back again inside his head. Did you deserve to know something so sacred to him? Would you carefully listen or trample all over the truthfulness of it, considering it as nothing more than an unfortunate story? Sukuna doesn’t know if he’s able to withstand that kind of wound from you tonight, and in a poor attempt at self protection, he does what he’s best at—what is in his nature. 

There are tears running down your cheeks that you don’t seem to notice. You look at him in fear and trembling, and something inside Sukuna despairs. You don’t know that there has never been a need for you to cower under him. That once long ago, you meet his fury and ire with bared teeth of your own, fiercely strong and unafraid. You can smooth away Sukuna’s temper with nothing more than a stroke of your skin against his, but you will not. Not with the way you’re looking at him now, and Sukuna knows he’s put you on the path of hating him. 

He does not know the point of it, or what benefit doing so serves him. Sukuna supposes it’s because he has no idea what to do with you now. There is no feasible path he can see that would bring you back to him. He knows your loyalty would never broker space for him in your heart after already dedicating yourself to Gojo Satoru. He doubts the white-haired sorcerer would share you, and Sukuna detests the idea of it even more.

To follow through with his threat and rip your lover from you would only further sway you into the camp of others who conspire against him in this age and obliterate any hope that you would willingly come to him. That aside, inflicting you with the same pain of loss that he experienced after your death is too cruel, even for a creature like him. 

In a last ditch attempt, Sukuna could surrender himself completely to the authority of today’s jujutsu (Gojo Satoru, again) and remain obediently imprisoned inside Itadori Yuji in exchange for getting to watch you from afar. He thinks he owes you that at least; a long-lived life with the person you love. 

But that idea wars with Sukuna’s very being. He would never prostrate himself so lowly and submit himself to be controlled in such humiliation. But he always swore that nothing would come before you, and there is no else worthy of his complete submission than you. Though, Sukuna worries this alternative would drive him to the edge—if not into complete—madness. Subjecting himself to a lifetime of watching you love another the same way you once loved him seems like an effective way of destroying himself. 

Thus, Sukuna remains directionless and hides in the coverage of the trees. He wants to watch you for just a moment longer before he has to give control back to the brat. It aches him to see how you wipe tears from your cheek and then roll your shoulders back to shake off any lingering emotion. The sight is so familiar, so quintessentially you, but only in a time before this, and he desperately wishes he was still there.

Ryomen Sukuna misses you, even when you are standing right in front of him.

------------------------

A/N: I am sorry if this chapter felt unpolished compared to the rest. As soon as I started to feel better on Friday, my toddler got sick and has been since then. I didn't get to devote the same amount of quality time editing this chapter as I would have liked, and I don’t anticipate that changing until my little one is better. If the final chapter isn't posted on Wednesday like I originally planned, it should only be a day or to delayed (but I don't think it will be).

Thank you all <3

Taglist (open): @kalopsia-flaneur ; @kafanizdakicokiyi ; @rosso-seta ; @lululala06

[wri0thesley]

Okay but hear me out, gojo teaching his girl how to properly touch herself bc she can't make herself cum and has been edging herself unintentionally and gojo helps out with his long fingers 🥺

instruction - gojo x fem!reader (2k)

you might be having trouble, but gojo doesn’t mind playing sensei to you. 

warnings: nsfw/minors dni! oral sex, assisted masturbation, fingering. afab reader with fem pronouns

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

The first time that Gojo gives you an orgasm, it’s using his tongue. His head is buried between your thighs, soft noises of praise coming out of his mouth interspersed with the flutter of his kisses on your inner thighs and the downright filthy sound of his mouth dragging through your slick. His tongue toys with your clit, swirling it and sucking it, circling it before he returns back to flicking the tip over it with mountingly quicker and harder motions. Your hands are knit in his hair, and as you feel the ball of pressure inside of you finally split into a thousand tiny pieces, you tug on the silver-pale strands in your grip and wail into the ceiling. He guides you through the aftershocks with slower, deeper laps of his tongue across your cunt before he lazily pulls himself up onto his elbows, looking at you with those big blue eyes, galaxies swirling with them.

“You were so noisy, doll,” he murmurs. “I know I’m good with my tongue, but hell - if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that seems like the first time you’ve ever got to cum--” 

You feel yourself squirm, embarrassment flooding your thoughts. It’s not like you haven’t tried! But something in you always seems to stop you coming, and you’ve spent too many nights frustratedly falling asleep with your thighs a mess after being unable to bring yourself any kind of relief.

You can’t really hide anything from Satoru Gojo, though. 

The look on your face tells him all that he needs to know - that flustered, half-guilty expression, your bitten lips darkened from the dig of your teeth. His own expression softens indescribably, those long fingers sliding up your damp thighs as he coos, all pity; “Oh, baby girl . . . We can’t have that, can we?”

He coaxes you, words coated in sugar, eyes gentle, to show him how you’ve been touching yourself. Before you know what’s happening, he’s taking your hand and pulling it down to rest over where you’re still slick with your own arousal and Gojo’s saliva. You’re still adorably sensitive, flinching at the pads of your fingers over your tender clit, so Gojo gently tugs on your wrist.

“Try circling it,” he murmurs. “You’ll hurt yourself if you go all in with the stimulation--”. You do your best to follow his orders for a few minutes, until the sensitivity wears off a bit. And then, he’s kneeling between your thighs and pushing your knees up a little so he has a better view of how exactly you’re rubbing at your petal-soft folds, how you’ve been treating yourself up until now. “Show me exactly how you’ve done it before,” he breathes, the crystalline sapphires of his eyes set on the space between your legs like he’s a patron at an art gallery. “Lemme see why you haven’t gotten to come, baby.”

You do your best. It’s the same as it always is, though - you rub at your clit with inexperienced, clumsy fingers. Heat seems to build up inside you, but you never manage to get it to go further than that build up. Even when you use your other hand to thrust two of your fingers inside, it feels like you’re reaching for something that isn’t quite there. It’s so annoying. You’ve read guides on how to do this, watched porn videos in the hope it’ll help you with your block - but nothing seems to work. And now, you’re being watched by your boyfriend, and you can’t help but be hot and embarrassed . . . and kind of turned on. The way that he’s looking at you. The concern knitting his usually smooth brow.

Gojo watches you, pensive, as you feel tears of frustration bubble up in the corners of your eyes. You move your hands away from your cunt, curling them into fists and giving the bed beneath you an exasperated thump. 

(Gojo’s eyebrows raise as he sees you removing the stimulation entirely. You poor little thing. No wonder you haven’t managed it.) 

“I-I can’t get it to go further,” you say, agitated. “I-it gets to a point, and then it just seems to stop! It builds up and it builds up but it just stays there!”

Gojo shifts closer to you. His hands rest on your thighs. “You know what I think?” He asks you, his voice very low. His cock has been hard in his pants since the moment he got you on his bed, never mind the orgasm he gave you with his tongue - but it’s a damn right tragedy you’ve never been able to make yourself come, and (much as he doesn’t want to admit it) being Gojo’s girlfriend can be a lonely life. He’s away on missions so often, and he loves to tease, and he knows that you’ll have his cock on the mind forever once you’ve had it for the first time. So it’s better for both of you if you learn exactly what you’re doing. “I think y’just haven’t had the right teacher yet. And . . . you’re in luck,” he flashes you one of those patented Satoru Gojo grins, half-unhinged and half-handsome. “Because I’m right here and willin’ to take some time out of my busy schedule to teach you all about the human body--!”

“Don’t put it like that,” you say, weakly, as he reaches between your thighs and pulls the lips of your cunt apart. He looks back at your sex; the swollen clit, the hole begging to be filled, the absolute mess you’ve both made with tongues and fingers and your earlier orgasm. 

“You always stop before it goes further, right? Because you get bored and frustrated?” He clicks his tongue, shaking your head in mock scolding, as you squirm. “Baby girl, you gotta have temerity. You’ve been edging yourself ever since you figured out how to jack off.” His thumb swipes down through the slit as he lets go of his thumb’s hold. “Play with your clit for me. C’mon.”

The way he meets your eyes tells you that this is an order, and Gojo when he slips into the mode of a commander is not a man to be messed with. You hesitantly slide your fingers back between your legs to gently circle your swollen clit, your touch incredibly gentle. Gojo’s pretty mouth tilts into a smile. “Use your other hand to play with your chest,” he says. “I’d ask you to use it for something else, but . . .” The smile widens, showing a hint of white teeth. “I think I’m much better placed to do that.”

You are about to ask him what he means when his hand brushes over yours and then a fingertip gently pushes into the pulsing ring of your entrance. His fingers are slender - it does not hurt for him to push them in, but you are still robbed of your breath by the sensation of it plunging slowly into your silky depths. He gives one or two cursory pumps, before withdrawing his finger entirely so he can add a second beside it.

This one is more of a stretch, but it is a stretch in the best possible way. You use the hand not playing with your clit to squeeze the weight of your breast, your breath hitching. Thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak, as Gojo finds a slow rhythm to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s deeper, right?” He rasps. “Feels better? Like places you’ve never been able to reach before?” He crooks his fingers just so and magic seems to spark, a spot on your inner walls your own shorter fingers have never managed to gain ground on. Your thighs tremble and you gasp out his name. “I thought so.” He swallows. You look up at him through the fan of your eyelashes and you see the lust in his eyes is palpable. He catches your gaze and holds it, unafraid. 

“I want you to be rougher with yourself,” he growls, low. “Press a little harder--”

The hand not currently fucking two digits into you takes hold of your wrist, pushing you to put more pressure on your clit. Fuck. The sensation of his hand guiding your wrist’s movements, in tandem with the fact that his fingers have not yet stopped hitting that special spot with every single thrust . . . You can feel the ball tightening, pulling in on itself, like a hundred knots in the same piece of thread. 

“If you didn’t have me,” Gojo rasps, and the sound of his voice gritty and dark sends a jolt of pleasure throughout you, “You’d be stopping now. You’d think you weren’t gonna get anywhere. But . . . you will, doll-- you’ve just gotta push past it--” He takes his hand away from your wrist, but you continue the pace and the pressure that he chose for you.

You whimper out his name, the hand playing with your chest squeezing hard (if you have bruised fingerprints on the soft curve of your breast tomorrow, Gojo will laugh gently at them and press on them a little meanly before he soothes you all over with kisses). 

“You gonna promise me you’ll do that when you’re alone, yeah?” Gojo asks. He’s sounding a little breathless. Your eyes manage to focus long enough to see that he’s rubbing himself through his underwear, an impressive bulge pressing against the expensive fabric. He sees you looking and gives another feral grin that seems to echo through you. “D-don’t worry, we’ll take care’a that after your lesson--”

“I promise,” you breathe, as he curls his fingers just right against that spot and your own fingers reach fever pitch. You don’t know if you’re promising to do it the way that he taught you, or if you’re promising that you’ll take care of his cock, or if you’re promising something else to him entirely - your life, your love, your very being - but you do know that the knotted threads inside of you snap all at once as Gojo’s fingertips reach so deep, so good, so perfectly inside of you.

Your channel clenches and constricts, spasming around the digits buried in it to the knuckles. Heat washes over you with a feeling of peace, different to when he’d used his tongue on you and yet similar. Gojo is practically purring as he watches you and feels you, a gush of slick coating his fingers even as he guides you over the crest of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” Gojo’s murmuring, as your breathing (when did you start panting?) evens out. “Oh, so good for me, doll . . .” His fingers come out of you with a wet pop and he brings them to his mouth, tongue flickering out teasingly to taste you. “So sweet for me, too . . .” He sighs, his eyes closing for a moment as he enjoys the lingering flavour. When those eyes open again, they’re lit with hunger.

“Well,” he says. “whaddya say? Think you can come like that next time you touch yourself?” He raises his eyebrows, a playful grin on his face. “Think y’can come at all?”

You nod fervently, and win a chuckle from Gojo. He shifts on the bed, pushing the underwear he’s still wearing down to his thighs to reveal the thick jut of his cock. You’re breathless at the sight of it, already needy despite the fact your second orgasm of the night was scant minutes ago. 

“I want a video of it,” he tells you. “Next time you touch yourself. I want a video of you and I want you t’say my name as you do it. But for now . . .” He gently taps the wet (so, so, wet - ruddy and flushed and dripping with his pre-come) head of his cock against your thigh. “I think we’ve got some other business to attend to, yeah?”

[sixeyesgojo]

Why do you love Gojo so much? I’m sorry if this question has been asked before

Anon, don't worry about asking twice or even three times...

Are you prepared for this answer though? I don't know how long this answer will be... I'll try to keep it rather short though because otherwise it would entail a full analysis of Gojo's entire character...

TL;DR: Love me a man who's a little yum yum, a little cray-cray and uwu uwu.

Manga spoilers?

The superficial aspects I really like in fictional characters: appearance (especially the hair), the strength and teasing attitude. Gojo just happens to have all three of them.

If I take a look at my MAL favorite character list, I have 9 characters on there and 4 of them have white/silver hair. And yes, all of them are super strong in their respective verse, so at this point the formula is "white hair = strong" in my head.

Gojo is also a tease. I like that about him because he's not over the top where it's just mean, unless he's talking to an enemy or someone he hates.

His confidence is something I admire and long for because I lack it. His sweet tooth is also something I personally vibe with because I, too, have an insatiable sweet tooth.

On top of that... a character voiced by Nakamura Yuuichi-san? How can I say no?

On a rather deeper level?

From the first moment I got to know this man called Gojo Satoru, I just knew that his cheerful character hid something deeper. (Most of the characters I'm drawn to do.)

And of course, my hunch proved to be right: Gojo Satoru is such a deep, complex and multi-faceted character. He's also one of the few characters that are not defined by the series but instead, he defines the series. It's shown in the fact that the enemies wouldn't make a move just because he exists.

On the one hand, we have the goofy teacher that annoys the living hell out of Megumi simply by being himself and regularly giving Ijichi a heart attack. He also seems to be super cocky and pretty close to having a God complex or something like that (before you ask: no, I do not believe Gojo has a God complex but that's a post for another day... maybe).

That's what we all see at first.

On the other hand, if you dive deeper into his character, you'll quickly notice some other things.

First of all, he's a "shitty teacher". Gojo sucks at traditional teaching, alright? In that aspect, I think Utahime and Kusakabe do better. If you think about it though, Gojo does not suck at teaching at all.

He simply nurtures his students in his own, sometimes twisted, way, with the intention of bringing out their highest potential for growth with each mission or task he assigns.

He uses uncommon methods for this but not before making sure the students are as safe as you can be as Jujutsu sorcerer. After all, he treasures his students a great deal (as can be seen in pretty much every interaction he has with Yuji and also when Yuji dies).

I've said he strives to nurture his students' growth, yes, but he's also respectful about it: He expects great things from Megumi, yet doesn't train him but instead waits for the younger one to approach him.

Yuji is a different matter in this case. Gojo - as busy as that man is - takes in the student without judging him for being Sukuna's vessel and chooses to personally supervise his growth as a sorcerer when he didn't have to - it just adds one more burden onto his already stuffed plate - yet he did. Because he cares. He cares about not unnecessarily throwing another life away (Yuta + Yuji). And he cares about Megumi's opinion or else he wouldn't even ask?

As much as caring Gojo goes, he's also very much capable of being unhinged and feral, if there is need (Shibuya).

He doesn't seem like your typical shonen anime hero that protects people/is on the side of 'justice' "because it's the right thing to do", but rather, he recognizes the faults within this so-called 'justice' and tries to uproot the cause of it. He's capable of thinking and judging for himself and chooses to constantly go against orders that he doesn't think are appropriate - the execution of Yuta and Yuji are one example. Another one would be him and Geto deciding to call off the merger (and you know how important that was), should Amanai Riko express the desire to live on as a normal teenage girl.

Moreover, the drastic change in character is what makes him interesting as well.

At first, he's a cocky teenager who thinks of himself oh-so-highly, with every right. For the longest time, he believed he was undefeatable, only to be proven wrong in a battle against Toji, a man without cursed energy.

This fall from graces shakes him to his core because what? He's been defeated? And thus, he enters a mindset he probably never experienced before: instability and vulnerability first cloud his mind - and he's not capable of processing it at first, leaving him in a delirious state, to the point where Toji questions himself: "Is this man high?"

On top of all this, his best friend 'betrays' the side he is on and defects; that's gotta be a huge blow mentally... and then he has to finish of said friend as well.

That didn't go without consequences.

After Geto's defection that ultimately lead to death in later years... for the first time in Gojo's life, he displays a weakness that is exploitable, used against him in Shibuya.

His fall from grace is a fall from being the strongest to 'oh, maybe I was wrong'.

Gojo went from being a teenager with no apparent goal to being an adult that wants to change the world to one where his (already deceased) best friend can laugh from the bottom of his heart.

On a more personal note:

Generally, his (pretty easy-going) attitude just makes me happy and has actually brought me comfort in harder times.

Obviously, this manchild is also my biggest muse. I have written fanfiction for other fandoms before but I have never published them but Gojo just makes it so easy, I'm having a lot of fun with his character. Plus, without JJK and Gojo, I wouldn't have come to Tumblr at all and therefore, wouldn't have met the wonderful people I call my friends now 💕

All in all, I love the tragedy in his character as the strongest but his unyielding resolve of staying strong, being strong, being the best he can be. The cruelty he, without a doubt, witnessed over and over again, yet he stays kind and caring throughout all of it. Oh, how easy it would be for him to simply destroy everything? "But nobody would support a mass murderer," he is so big-brained for this.

I don't think there's a single aspect of him I do not love? I really adore this man so much.

-

And yes, this was rather short and I am sure I missed multiple things but I do hope my answer helped.

Maybe, MAYBE, I will post a full one on another day. But that one would be long as fuck...

[kenrik]

unearthing this other one... 

utahime’s resurgence upon the unsealing of gojo is really quite damning... 😰😰

a thought has been gutting me recently.

you know how gojo and utahime are being shown as people who abhor each other? who never see eye to eye?

and you know how everyone says jjk is a tragedy about to unfold?

it’s going to break my heart. and this isn’t me wishing for it. it isn’t me being a shipper - but what’s gutting me is the thought that at utahime or gojo’s final moments, it’s revealed that they actually mean a lot to each other.

gege really and clearly loves their trope. and his past works always show a mutual understanding between them, a camaraderie and a trust at the end.

utahime’s story is anyone’s guess. we don’t know her ct. we don’t have her background. but playing off the trend of his past works, her character type is always linked to the OP character. even her data sheet is a stark contrast to gojo’s.

add the fact that gege keeps saying how much utahime hates gojo, how gojo always makes fun of her; just really painting their relationship in a bad light - it would be a heartbreaking twist if at the end - gege shows us that, one way or the other, they love each other. that the heartless gojo actually knows how to love. and that utahime who hates gojo actually cares for him deeply.

that’s going to gut me.

i mean, how much can she really hate him? when everything he’s done is to protect everyone.

you know how mai has always said how much she hates/loathes maki? how she keeps saying that maki’s weak and of no note? only for us to find out at the end that she loves her sister - and that she fucking gave her life for this person she says she despises. fck i don’t know. gege knows how to twist relationships and stab straight right into your heart. so i don’t know what lies ahead for gouta. i’m honestly afraid. i guess i’ll enjoy all these funny bits of them while i can…

you know, reading the jjk manga made me cry a lot.

that hidden inventory arc. the shibuya arc. it made me shed tears i didn’t know i have. i felt for everyone in the manga. everyone’s story hurt me. that’s why i love gege’s works. it’s perfect for me. i love dark humor. i love that it’s funny, wholesome and so relatable too. i love that the storytelling is straight to the point as well. but most importantly, the relationships are what floored me and made me fall in love. toji's depth. gojo, riko, suguru and kuroi's friendship. suguru's spiraling. choso's brotherhood with his siblings. maki and mai's. panda and yaga's relationship. all of it. i love all their relationships. even the villains.

and a thought has been gutting me recently.

you know how gojo and utahime are being shown as people who abhor each other? who never see eye to eye?

and you know how everyone says jjk is a tragedy about to unfold?

it’s going to break my heart. and this isn’t me wishing for it. it isn’t me being a shipper - but what’s gutting me is the thought that at utahime or gojo’s final moments, it’s revealed that they actually mean a lot to each other.

gege really and clearly loves their trope. and his past works always show a mutual understanding between them, a camaraderie and a trust at the end.

utahime’s story is anyone’s guess. we don’t know her ct. we don’t have her background. but playing off the trend of his past works, her character type is always linked to the OP character. even her data sheet is a stark contrast to gojo's.

add the fact that gege keeps saying how much utahime hates gojo, how gojo always makes fun of her; just really painting their relationship in a bad light - it would be a heartbreaking twist if at the end - gege shows us that, one way or the other, they love each other. that the heartless gojo actually knows how to love. and that utahime who hates gojo actually cares for him deeply. that the 'hates gojo most of the time,' actually has a 'but she loves him for the rest'.

that's going to gut me.

i mean, how much can she really hate him? when everything he's done is to protect everyone.

you know how mai has always said how much she hates/loathes maki? how she keeps saying that maki's weak and of no note? only for us to find out at the end that she loves her sister - and that she fucking gave her life for this person she says she despises. fck i don't know. gege knows how to twist relationships and stab straight right into your heart. so i don't know what lies ahead for gouta. i'm honestly afraid. i guess i'll enjoy all these funny bits of them while i can...