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inumakis-boo · 10 months ago

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ITAFUSHI .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

⌗ fanfiction synopsis ␥ itadori and fushiguro have had rumors about them being together in secret ever since their first year. of course, they never did anything, but as all things, that changes. friends to lovers x first kiss.

word count - 3,765 // enjoy!

They had heard the rumors for.. a long time.

Of course, friend groups were like that, they both figured. They teased and bullied each other, tickled and argued over the little things. Fickleness and friendship usually went hand in hand.

Maybe it was their own fault, Megumi reasoned. They had become close, and being close friends even within their own friend group was bound to create a joke circle at some point.

It happened first last year, Megumi thinks it was about ice cream he helped wipe off Yuji's cheek with a napkin after many failed attempts at smack it away from the other. They remarked how cute it was, to be so close that the gay was practically seeping in.

Even Yuji laughed.

But it did not end there.

These were good sorcerers, Megumi had to remind himself. They were brave and strong and extremely intelligent with bigger goals than their own heads. They were valuable members of society, and if it wasn't for that, he wouldve spawned Mahoraga a long time ago for the teasing they endured more and more frequently.

It would be something dumb, like remarking how close they were sitting or where they went last night, or even the fact sometimes they got the same dish at a fast-food place, or their shirts were matching, all remarking how nice it was to have such a good 'friend', and that they were so adorable together.

'friend.'

It wasn't until Yuji, being the idiot he was, had fell asleep on his bedroom floor after fiddling around with his new switch, and consequently, had not been seen returning to his room for the rest of the night.

They both didn't realize how bad it looked until they were both arriving at the breakfast table together, and all the third years were looking at them, including Nobara, like they had stumbled on the next best joke for the year.

They had not heard the end of it. Even Gojo suspiously eyed them, of course, not without reassurance that whatever Megumi liked, he would always still be his little gumi.

Meguni daydreamed of watching Mahoraga destroy the entire school.

Yuji.. tended to shrug it all off. He was used to some kind of teasing, he told him at one point, about dating girls and whatever. But he never seemed too phased by their idea that they not only liked each other but might actually be dating or at the very least, should.

That didn't stop them from hanging out though. Megumi figured they were in the right, everyone was wrong, why should he have to abandon his friend to stop them?

Yuji seemed to feel the same way, considering they were sitting together on Yuji's bed, leaning against the wall as they looked out to the rest of the room.

The sunsets colors were gleaming through his curtains, and the littering of colorful posters of anime characters, video games and movies, along with his desk, litered with school books and papers made the room feel.. much more normal than other parts of their day. It felt like he was just a normal teenager in this room, with no weapons or curses lingering nearby.

The smallish tv sat on a dresser, and played some stupid forgotten movie on youtube, and Yuji was still distracted by the game in his hands to care that much time watch it.

Megumi never had such a regular childhood, even in his middle school years with Gojo always lingering around, but he could imagine this was exactly how Yuji liked things in his own bedroom, when he was just a normal Japanese student, and did normal things.

Megumi lazily watched him as his thumbs fiddled with the game, his tongue peeking out between his lips in concentration, and his pink tufts of hair rebelliously stuck in random angles due to the gel that he religiously used every morning. He smiled subconsciously at his game as he took the lead, and Megumi suppressed a smile when he finally raced to the finish line and his character danced.

Yuji let out a sigh of relief and finally stopped hunching over, leaning against the wall aswell and blinking his eyes a few times. Megumi was never really into video games like this, and watching Yuji try to see beyond his ridiculously bright screen did not make it seem worth getting into. Of course, that didn't stop him from taking up a controller when challenged.

"I am so happy it is the weekend," He stretches, and Megumi lays his head back flatly against the wall. "I finally beat this track, and now I can just chill."

"So thats were your priorities lie." Megumi sighs, much to Yujis confusion. "I know you still haven't started your homework."

"I can't hear you-" Yuji whined, feigning ignorance. "I shouldn't be thinking about homework right now! It's supposed to be a relaxing day."

"You always leave homework for sunday night." Megumi is used to scolding his friend by now, and Yuji easily brushes it off without much thought. The games music still plays between them.

"Well, I suppose we couldve studied yesterday-"

"But you decided staying up until midnight and then waking me up to go sit on the roof was a better measure of time."

"Hey," Yuji pouted, "That was fun. Plus, couldn't sleep anyways. You always make me tired."

"Thanks." Megumi deadpanned.

"No problem." Yuji only smiles sarcastically in return.

Megumi doesn't resist this time with a smile, and they both lean back again. The strands of sunlight gleam in through, and project around them as they sit.

Megumi feels normal here.

"Sometimes I can't believe I am actually here." Yuji interrupts. "Like yknow.. I had no idea a world like this was right under my nose, and it feels like forever ago that we started."

We.

"You were clueless back then to what a weapon you really were." Megumi remembers standing on the rooftop with him, ready to commit him to death. It is a sour thought that is quickly abandoned. "You are still the same, but.. not as dumb."

"I think that was you trying to be nice?" A glittering snicker.

"Just a little. Too much goes to your head."

Yuji bumped his shoulder a little hard than he wouldve when they first met, and Megumi only huffed.

"Not like we listen to what anyone says anyways." He can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks.

"Not anymore. Don't you think they are being annoying when they do that?"

"I was talking about that time Nobara gave us one of Inumaki's blunts and promised that it would be okay to smoke it all, then I greened out infront of everyone."

"Sorry, was I supposed to pick out all the other times you have listened to stupid shit and got stupid results or..?" Megumi retorted. "I was talking about-"

"I know what you were saying." Yuji rolls his eyes, and puts his head on a knee, drawn up to his chest as the other laid flat. "I can see how.. guess there are worse things to be said."

Megumi waits as the pink haired boy sighs.

"But yknow.. at the very least, I am happy we still get along. Maybe it is contributing to them thinking that we are hiding something."

"It probably is." It was true. They denied everything but, they never actually stopped hanging out. Yuji was too lighthearted to care that deeply about these things. "It isn't really fair to your reputation."

"Pfft." Yuji laughs, "What reputation? With girls? I don't think I have gone out with a girl since I came here."

Right- most normalcy stopped at the school gate.

"What if you did want to? Youd never hear the end of it-"

"I already don't hear the end of it." He shrugs. "Doesn't really bother me that much. I kinda expected it, for being a high school."

Megumi figured that just because this was special circumstance, didn't mean the teenagers that attended acted much differently than those living regular lives. He tried his best to not compare.

"It's.. I just thought it would bother you more." The raven hair offers his confusion up, eyes looking back to the other. Yuji characteristically shrugs.

"I mean.." He seems to focus on the tv, but he can tell he isnt paying much attention. "Sometimes I kinda wonder where they get the idea from.. but it makes sense, if they don't really see it."

Megumi wants to say something, but he continues. "Like.. of course we hang out and I burrow your stuff and sneak out. Thats what friends do."

"I think it is because we don't really do it with anyone else."

"Its not like I don't. We just.. do it together more often than everyone else." Yuji rests his knee now, and sits up straighter again. "I.. like hanging out with you. Honestly, I was worried for a second."

He didn't like the sound of that. It was unlike him to worry about anything, other than typical shit.

"What were you worried about?"

"Well, uh." Yuji shifts his console out of the way from his reach, and puts his hands on his knees. "You aren't the drama type. You never seemed like the type of person to deal with that stuff."

"I try not to get involved."

"Right." Yuji confirms, "So.. I thought maybe to get it to end, you would not really want to hang out or whatever. To get away from it."

Megumi had honestly had not considered it. Even since watching him die and then resurrecting almost two years ago, he knew by then if had the chance, he wanted to stick around. Leaving his friendship, maybe his only friendship behind for some lazy gossip didn't make much sense to him.

"The gossip wasn't coming from you." Megumi tried to reason. "It isn't our fault. Why would I blame you?"

"I don't.. know." He cracks an unsure smile, the type with words behind it, but still, assured. "I don't know why I would have thought that. I guess it seemed like something that could happen."

"You don't think that high of me, huh?"

Yuji practically whips his head around, even though Megumi was slightly joking, he supposed he didn't reveal his tone enough to the other, as Yuji shifted closer with a pouting expression.

"Nono! It isn't that, I-I.." He grunts. "I just wouldn't have blamed you if you did, it isn't fair. I know it bothers you."

"Itadori, I honestly.. tune most of it out." Megumi states rather fairly, "And whatever does bother me, isn't worth stop being your friend over. It's all kinda stupid. Especially when Gojo decides to do it."

That makes the other lose his panicked face to something a little closer to what Megumi is used to seeing- a smile and a fresh breath of release.

"I makes me happy to know that.. I guess I was being just as stupid, thinking that stuff. I am really glad to be your friend."

Then Yuji turns his smiling face away, and Megumi can feel his heart strings tug, despite his smile. He wants to reassure him, even though with anyone else, this conversation would've been ignored.

The room now turns to a magenta pink to match the sky outside, muted only by the curtains. When Megumi registered it instead of following his thoughts, it made Yuji's hair even pinker than it was, and it looked nice to touch. Of course, he had before, but just appreciating his presence, wasn't wrong either.

"I am happy to be your friend too."

Megumi speaks up, as Yuji looks towards their four feet down the bed. "I.. guess I never thought I had to tell you. But, I haven't really had ever the time for friends or even go out much. You made time for that, and encouraged me, no matter if I thought I was dumb. I.. always have a good time with you."

When Yuji looks up at him finally, the first thing Megumi notices is his eyes. They are the same kind ones from all the days before, but focused in on Megumi kinda made his chest feel lighter, full of air. They are accompanied with a smile, classic Yuji optimism shining through with his red cheeks and haze, it almost makes you want to smile too. Megumi does- he stopped resisting the charm months ago.

Then he notices how close they are. Their faces, only a few inches apart as their heads lean on the cool wall. Megumis head was straight forward, but he angles to get a better look.

Yuji seems to be taking in Megumi too, and it feels nonsensecal- they have looked at each other many times over, in photos and in drawings, sitting together at the opposite sides of a desk at lunch, in combat. Megumi couldn't tell if this was a different kind of looking, if it was wrong or right, if it made sense too.

Megumi, for what feels like the first time, wants to fill the silence. He wants to say more, how he appreicates him, how he felt in the months that he believed him dead, how he hopes that he can live, despite all the bonds over his head waiting for his death, how much he cares, how much he would never let some stupid highschoolers take away all that meaning.

Yuji seems focused, even with his precious switch on the bed somewhere and the tv playing something stupid as it flashes light on their faces, he isnt paying attention to any of it other than his friend infront of him. Megumi can feel his heart beating, and it feels..

"I am glad that we-"

Yuji doesn't tune into what he says before he leans up and presses his lips onto the others, and the air in Megumis chest releases, like a bow string snapping, and he only then realizes it was tension- that is all second to Yuji though, torso turned and face tilted, his soft lips pushing against Megumis slightly chapped ones. Megumi cant move, can't even breathe, as he feels the other so softly.

Yuji catches this nonmovement and slowly parts from him, but the missing touch suddenly feels wrong- Megumis arms had no desire to pull him away, nor could be convienced to by any rational thought. Looking at the other open his eyes, yet finding no panic or worry behind him, only calmness, like it was natural, like it shouldve been normal this entire time- glittering warm eyes, and open lips.

Fuck it.

Megumi's hand reached out to touch Yujis arm, and in one swift movement, leaned down to kiss him, slotting his lips between his effortlessly, and with no compliants from Yuji.

Yuji..

God, all his thoughts had never not been about him.

His skin is soft, and he can feel the edges of scars where they once were, and feeling Yujis other hand sit on Megumi chest could have been a ploy to rip out his heart, but Megumi honestly wouldn't have even cared because Yuji simply felt so good to kiss.

It was soft and sweet and warm, and the same feeling he had when riding his bike with him at dawn or sharing a snowcone that somehow gets on Yujis uniform, or sitting next to him at movie nights, rushed him all at once.

He didn't want to part and talk anymore however- they had done enough of that, and Megumi had no more room for any more logical agreements on how they were or what they were.

It was all taken up by feeling Yuji's tongue sweep across his lips and Megumi not giving it any thought than to accept it, opening his mouth to allow the other in, and the feeling the pads of Yujis fingers at the base of his neck as he pulls him in closer, while exploring the soft raven-head of hair that he was seen looking at just a moment ago.

Megumi had never had anyone touch him like this before, and it was thrilling that Yuji wanted to run his fingers through his hair as his arms leaned on the tops of his shoulders, to lean closer and closer until Megumi could feel his chest rising and falling against his own.

Megumi can feel the surge of heat travel down his body, and he almost wants to shut it all down before things get too out of hand, before Yuji decides that this was a mistake, but the little noises coming out of him flushes those thoughts down the drain.

He trusted Yuji.

Megumi feels the desire to have him closer, and it is enacted immediately, his hands that were being rather useless now curled around his hip to help him, and Yuji quickly gets the memo; by putting his leg on the other side of his lap, settling himself neatly down ontop of it.

Fuck, this was happening.

Yuji looked at him with the flush on his cheeks, his lips a pink hue he could've made his favorite color right then, and hands leaving his neck to touch his chest, rubbing up and down, as the pressure on Megumis lap was going to really make mistakes happen.

They both pull together like magnents until they are just merely a breaths away, the familiar smile with a hint of flirtation now spread across Yuji's face. Megumi smiled in return, yet his eyes flickered between his lips and his fluttering eyelashes.

Maybe it was a wake-up call, really. They had spent all these years, not even realizing what they looked like to everyone else, so oblivious.

Just like now, too oblivious to notice Yuji's phone had been buzzing on the carpet (of course, because it was the weekend, turned to dnd) and now, only being made aware once the knob of the door turned and the silver haired man stood in the doorway- with his two students all over each other, so clueless until right now, as Yuji was made wide-eyed and nearly about to come off from his best friends lap, while Megumi stiflied the need to absolutely burn up in anger and embarssment.

Gojo made such a face, lips pursed tightly and his shades on the top of his head, falling to the bridge of his nose after a second of silence.

"Is Itadori in his room?" Someone asked down the hall- fuck, it must have been dinner time, how could he be so stupid?

After two or three more moments of an unclear silence, Gojo musters up whatever braincells left in his brain to fake peer into the room, totally avoiding them, before looking down the hall to whomever. "Nah. 'Gumi wasn't in his room either. They probably went out on a date or something."

Was that really necessary?

"Wouldn't be surprised. It would be about time they realized they are into each other- we can only give so many hints."

Gojo flashed a smile, and kicked the door closed, not looking back to the two sorcerers, now lazily ontop of each other as they stare down the door.

By whatever means, it gets locked as Gojos slippers walk down the hall and some fading conversation.

They didn't move until a moment after, and instantly, he can feel Yuji vibrating almost. He tears off frustrated eyes off the door up to Yuji, hunched over and knees touching as he sits in the middle of his legs, no longer pressing against him. His lips are squeezed together as he seems to be holding back. His cheeks are red, and eyes shut as he cusps a hand over his mouth.

"H-Hey." Megumi says, and it comes out thick sounding. "What is so funny..?"

Yuji can barely stop laughing for just a second to say what happened, and even then, hiccups the entire way.

He sniffles, trying so hard to stop. "We are.. fucking dumb..! I was so scared when he opened the door, his face!"

The idea of them being right the entire time isn't nearly as funny, but knowing they did what was expected of them anyways was in retrospect, even more so when you realize the entire time, they had been into each other and yet, everyone else could tell but them.

They were so stupid.

Megumi has to hold back a snicker, but the more Yuji laughs, and says how scared he was, that is the kicker for him, and he can't control his laughter either. The complete surprise on his face nearly makes up for how pissed he probably would've been if Yuji didn't say just how ridiculous it all was.

Soon, they fill the room with laughter, poking at each other as Yuji makes the same face as Gojo, and somehow it is like all those times Yuji regonized the joy in seemingly everything without effort, even here.

Yuji was still Yuji.

He was still his best friend.

Megumi didn't want to play the game anymore, as he watched the echos of the pink haired boy laugh, now wiping his eyes from the tears. He didn't want to give up any of this, even if they were going to be made fun of or teased for years on end. He hoped he could hear it forever, if this is the reward.

"So.." Megumi finds himself saying, and he can barely believe it. "What about this date?"

Yuji smiles, and this time, it warms his whole body up, especially as his hands reach up again to hold his shoulders.

"There is a showing of Human Earthworm 5 tonight.."

"Not even kissing you would convince me to go see that."

"Man youre no fun, I thought that would work." He pouts playfully.

"I don't think I can be that stupid to actually go watch that." Megumi crosses his arms, to spite the boy sitting between his legs.

"I don't know.." Yuji teases, but his hand snakes down to cross their fingertips together. "I think we qualify enough to go see it."

Megumi tries to deny the smile that wants to form on his face, but like everything else, it happens anyway. He sighs in defeat, but not without a begrudging smile along with.

"Should we leave infront of everyone or through the window?"

"What kind of choas would it be if we left infront of everyone?" Yuji squeezed his fingers between his.

"Alot..

Megumi leans his head against the wall again..

But I don't care."

Yuji looks just as carefree, as if he had been waiting for this since their first year.

"I wish we stopped caring sooner."

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed this! i wanted to write a first kiss x being caught type of thing, and i am so happy i am finally putting it up. i love taking requests as well.

art credits @kaa05n2 on twitter for the banner and @kingadi97 for giving me inspo a million years ago :p

bye pookies !

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nanamineedstherapy · 2 months ago

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Mouth to Meat

Cannibal Yakuza Sukuna X [Retracted] F!Reader

Summary: Dr. Y/N L/N is tasked with profiling Ryomen Sukuna, a feared yakuza boss known for his violent tendencies and taste for human flesh. Through a series of therapy sessions, she gains his trust—or so it seems. But Sukuna isn’t the only predator in the room. Behind Y/N’s professional demeanor hides a secret far darker than even Sukuna’s sins. When the masks drop, it’s clear: monsters don’t always look like him.

Trigger Warnings: This chapter contains themes of manipulation, torture, obsessive behavior, and violence (murder), twisted relationships, blood & gore, talks of cannibalism but none actually happening, sadistic behavior, manipulative characters, psychological horror, smut between aged-up characters who are a little OC (maybe idk.) If any of these subjects are sensitive for you, please proceed with caution or consider skipping this chapter.

A/N: I had to write this chapter because I couldn't let the bitch walk into the sunset with Sukuna without consequences. If you came here looking for sanity—you’re in the wrong place. If you came for blood, mind games, and a couple so unhinged they’d make Bonnie and Clyde look like amateurs—welcome home.

Previous Chapter 3 - Unravelling the first Red Threads (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 4 - Love Like a Blade to the Throat (Final Chapter)

20 years later - Prague, Czech Republic

Somewhere within a palace of glass and grandeur.

The scent of roasting flesh wove through the corridors like a lover’s whisper, curling into the opulent sitting room where she sat, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that bled light from the cloudy day onto the polished parquet.

Outside, the city stretched like a breathing tapestry—cobblestone veins pulsing with life, gothic spires cutting against the deep violet sky—a place of history, of culture, of meat .

She sipped her tea, an exquisite Darjeeling that Uraume had steeped to perfection, the delicate tannins swirling on her tongue, mixing with the ghost of her last meal.

A violinist played in the streets below, a haunting melody rising through the cold air, as if mourning something that hadn't yet died.

Sukuna was away, wrapped up in his Yakuza affairs—uninteresting, irrelevant. His business did not concern her unless it bled into her pleasures. And at this moment, her pleasure was solitude. The slow, methodical unraveling of the next course.

She ran a gloved finger along the gilded rim of her cup, watching the city breathe. The people—faceless, nameless, meaningless—walked beneath her like ants in a glass colony, unaware of their place in the food chain. She could already tell which ones would be worth her time. The elderly, too chewy. The sick, too bitter. The common, too dull.

Then there were the rarities. The ones who smelled of something divine.

She never discriminated. Child, woman, man—if they met her standard, they were meat. She appreciated the fine subtleties: the tender sweetness of youth, the complexity of a well-lived life, the marbled richness of one who indulged in excess. A trained palate could tell everything from scent alone—stress, diet, fear.

The best ones always had a touch of regret, like a delicate aging wine just before its peak.

From the lower levels of the palace, Uraume’s voice murmured instructions to the kitchen staff, knives gliding, bones cracking—the rhythmic symphony of preparation. The air carried the aroma of caramelizing fat, slow-roasted, methodically seasoned. A new acquisition.

A former artist, if she recalled correctly. He had smelled of oil paints and ambition—an excellent vintage.

A faint smile touched her lips as she traced patterns in the condensation on the windowpane.

The Japanese government had been searching for her and Sukuna for years, their relentless pursuit as amusing as it was futile. They had no face to chase and no name to whisper in their war rooms. She was a chameleon, slipping through their fingers like smoke, shifting personas like silk dresses.

She had once been a respected scientist, a leading mind in psychiatric evaluation. They had placed criminals before her, monsters they could not comprehend, and she had dissected them with words sharper than any scalpel.

But none had fascinated her. None had been worthy.

Not until him.

Sukuna.

Now how useful he’d been.

Nanami Kento had smelled of regret, of burnt-out ideals, of controlled rage masked beneath a meticulous routine. It had made his flesh all the more exquisite, the tension of his being seared into every bite.

Gojo Satoru had been more of a curiosity than a meal. A man who reeked of arrogance and saccharine defiance, the taste of him was almost overwhelming—too bright, too indulgent, like a dessert meant to be consumed in small, rare portions. And yet she had devoured him.

Together, they formed a rare combination of different types of meat that complemented each other beautifully. In fact, one could argue that they worked better in tandem than they did alone. The scent of sandalwood and petrichor still overwhelmed her senses whenever she thought of them. They were the only pair she had Sukuna personally age and dry, allowing them to indulge in small, exquisite quantities from time to time.

Their deaths had been art, a composition of pain and revelation. The moment they had realized what she was, what she had always been, had been sublime.

A deep, satisfied breath filled her lungs.

The violinist below finished her song.

A pause.

Then the next piece began—something somber, something hungry.

She smiled, taking another sip of her tea.

One day she’d invite her in for tea, and she’d never breathe again.

Suddenly, the cold kiss of metal pressed against her throat. A whisper of steel, a lover’s caress. The sharp edge bit in, precise, shallow—just enough to let warmth bloom against her skin. The scent of iron curled into the air, mingling with the fading notes of her tea.

She did not flinch.

Instead, she exhaled slowly, setting the cup down with a masterful grace. The porcelain barely whispered against the saucer. Outside, the city droned on, oblivious.

“Who are you?” She mused, voice carrying the weight of detached amusement.

“Doesn’t matter.”

The voice behind her was young. Rough with amusement, tinged with something manic, something starving. Close—too close. His breath skimmed the shell of her ear, warm and cloying with the scent of strawberry candy. That scent—familiar but off, like a memory half-rotted in the recess of her mind.

“All that matters is you are dying.”

A chuckle rumbled low in his throat, the kind that belonged to men who enjoyed carving smiles into others.

Her fingers traced the condensation on the windowpane. “At the very least,” she murmured, unbothered, “I should know who gets the privilege of killing me.”

He laughed, the sound sharp and wild, like the crackle of a fire before it swallowed a home.

“I don’t fulfill my food’s desires.”

So naive. So green.

Whoever this child was, he did not know her.

Did not recognize the years of artistry, the refinement of her craft.

But he would learn.

Her eyes flicked to his hand’s reflection in the glass, catching the faintest silhouette—a shadow barely restrained by flesh. Young. Vibrant. Pulsing with a thrill he did not yet understand.

“And Uraume?” She asked lightly, tilting her head just so. A calculated distraction. “They don’t fit your palate?”

The knife remained against her throat, but the air shifted.

“I don’t like pet meat,” he said with a rumbling laugh, something unhinged curling in his voice.

Her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth. That was when she noticed it. The stillness.

Beneath her, the kitchen, once alive with the symphony of knives and fire, was silent. The staff—silent.

Not even the fire crackled anymore.

The palace was dead.

Her lips curled, amusement flickering beneath her growing hunger.

He had cleaned her table before she could even taste his work.

That was a shame.

And yet, this boy—this laughing, overgrown child—had gotten inside. Past Sukuna’s guards. Past Uraume. That in itself was... commendable .

He would taste divine.

He would taste even better if she hunted him for Sukuna before he came back.

She started her plan. The one that had never failed her before because ‘men always led with their dicks.’

Not that anyone had dared to come after her before this, so the situation would be… unique .

“I know I’m a few years older than you,” she mused, voice as smooth as the tea she had been sipping. “But I’d really like to taste you before I die.”

The blade didn’t waver.

She leaned ever so slightly into it—a delicate pressure, a dance of power.

His grip tensed.

“I can show you things you haven’t even imagined.” She let the words drip like honey, her voice lilting with something dangerous. “Might even ruin you for the rest of your life. Make you compare every woman you meet to me. And if you’ve gotten past the homeowner’s guards, then..." A small, sultry pause. “You must be worthy of a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

His laughter came abruptly, sharp and sudden, like the crack of a gunshot in an empty hall.

“Ahh, sorry, lady.”

He pulled away, hand gripping her jaw instead, forcing her gaze toward the figure—she hadn't noticed—standing in the corner.

Unmoving. Watching.

A man, twenties. Tall. Dark hair unruly, eyes shadowed with something that did not belong in the face of someone young.

Her brain flicked between them. The one behind her—grinning, feral—and the other, silent, still, with the patience of a predator that knew it would eat eventually.

“My boyfriend over there wouldn’t like that very much.”

A slow, teasing drawl.

“And I’m very loyal.”

The boy behind her—her would-be killer—let go of her jaw and took a step in front of her and crouched his gladiator form before her like a child observing a caged bird.

Close enough that the scent of him filled her lungs again—sweet, nostalgic. He reminded her of someone, but not enough. The base notes were there but not the full body of the scent.

Something was wrong.

Something was off .

“Besides,” he continued, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips beneath the large hood, the only part that was visible, “even if I wasn’t loyal and into women…” A pause, like he was savoring it. “I don’t think old hags with sloppy trail would appeal to me.”

Her blood boiled .

She was not old . Just… forties .

She was refined .

At worst, a cougar .

Her grip flexed against the armrest of her chair, nails pressing into the fabric. Her eyes flicked to the silent one in the corner again, his gaze steady, unreadable.

The boy in front of her smirked wider, tilting his head as if he could hear the rage simmering in her bones.

“Besides—” he drawled, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We’re related, Auntie .”

The room went still.

Something curdled in her stomach as he lifted a hand to his hood, peeling it back to reveal—

No.

The hair.

The shape of the jaw.

The way the light caught his features, so damnably familiar but younger, softer, unweathered by the years—

Yuji.

And yet—no.

This was something else entirely.

His grin sharpened, bright and bloodthirsty.

“Long time no see, Aunt.”

She did not let her expression waver.

“I thought you died in childbirth.”

Her voice was smooth, measured, revealing nothing. The wound at her throat was still bleeding, staining the delicate fabric of her dress, but she did not falter.

A lesser creature would have trembled. Would have broken under the weight of inevitability.

But she was not lesser.

Yuji grinned at her, bright and sharp, all teeth and madness. “Aww, well, we can’t all be lucky now, Aunt, can we?” He finished by booping her nose as he stood up to his full mountain height.

There was nothing human in his eyes.

No warmth. No mercy.

Not the kind of insanity she had known in her past lovers, in the men who thought themselves monsters but were simply misguided.

No, this was something else entirely.

This was a creature who would kill her, carve out her ribs, and dance inside the hollow of her corpse, laughing all the while.

He was like her, but tactless.

Her mind turned, cold and quick.

This was bad.

Sukuna’s relationship with Yuji’s family had never been cordial. This would not end well for her.

Not unless she could find an opening.

She refused to die on her knees. She refused to die, caught off-guard.

But before she could move, the other one—the silent one—shifted.

The dark-haired man stepped forward to say something, but Yuji grabbed him by the waist, pulling him flush against his chest in one fluid motion.

She watched as Yuji’s grip tightened possessively before he devoured the other man’s mouth. A hungry, desperate kiss, all sharp edges and insanity.

The raven-haired one stiffened, then let out a low chuckle against Yuji’s lips, something quiet and knowing, something that sent a ripple of unease down her spine. He blushed when Yuji grabbed his ass, his arms tightening around Yuji as he whispered something low, something only for Yuji to hear.

Yuji’s eyes lit up.

“Really?” His voice was laced with anticipation. He dragged his teeth along Megumi’s jaw, breathless. “Ah, Megumi, I can’t wait. I’ll give you anything you want. Whenever and wherever you want it.”

The—Megumi, apparently—blushed deeper.

Yuji kissed him again, slow and lingering, as if he’d just offered Yuji something of value.

It didn’t matter.

None of this did.

Sukuna would be here soon, and these two would be dead.

She pressed the hidden emergency button beneath the window, her fingers barely brushing the smooth surface before retracting.

She cleared her throat, hoping to stall them with empty words.

But then—

The glint of steel.

A flash of silver.

The butcher’s knife buried deep in her throat.

The impact stole her breath. A vicious, grotesque intrusion that sent a violent shudder through her body as the blade tore into her carotid artery.

Her hand flew to the wound instinctively, fingers pressing against the gaping, bleeding maw at her neck, but it was already over.

Yuji’s voice ripped through the room.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking to Megumi!”

His face was painted in her blood, crimson streaks dripping from his chin, spattered across his cheekbones like a masterpiece of slaughter.

And he still hadn’t moved his other hand from Megumi’s waist.

Still hadn’t looked at her when he plunged the blade in deeper, twisting it viciously, backhanded, with the same ease as one might swat away an insect.

Her vision blurred.

She felt the warmth of her own life spilling down her chest, soaking into the fabric of her dress, pooling at her feet.

No.

No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

Her breath hitched, gurgling as blood filled her lungs, drowning her from the inside out. Her body convulsed, her fingers trembling as they clutched at her own throat, her own wound, desperate and useless.

Yuji barely spared her another glance, his attention already back on Megumi, his lips curling in delight as if she were nothing more than an afterthought.

Nothing more than meat.

Her body sagged forward, her consciousness slipping—

And the last thing she saw before the darkness swallowed her whole was the way Megumi smirked against Yuji’s lips, eyes glinting with something ancient, something feral, something that whispered—

‘You never stood a chance.’

She was dead.

Should have been dead.

Should have succumbed to the darkness seeping into her veins, to the heat of her own blood pooling beneath her like a grotesque lover’s embrace.

But she wasn’t… dead .

Not yet.

With the last remnants of her strength, she moved.

Ripped the blade from her throat, lunged—

Yuji caught her effortlessly.

Like she was nothing.

Like she was a toy whose final act of defiance only amused him.

With an almost bored flick of his wrist, he sent her sprawling onto the cold marble, her body smacking against the ground with a wet, sickening sound. Before she could recover, before she could even breathe, he was on top of her, straddling her hips, his full weight pressing into her lungs, into her ribs, into her very existence.

She gasped. The world narrowed to the warmth of his breath, the press of his steel thighs caging her in, the sickly-sweet scent of strawberry candy, thick and artificial, tainting the coppery tang of her own blood.

Yuji leaned in close, his lips ghosting over her throat where she bled out, inhaling deeply.

“Aww, the hag fights.”

His voice was honeyed mockery, dripping with amusement.

She glared at him.

He grinned, sharp and wolfish, his nose grazing the sticky, open wound at her throat.

“Ahh, you smell nice.” He exhaled, letting the warmth of his breath trail down her skin. “But I’m not sophisticated like you, Aunt. I can’t even point out what you smell like.”

She clenched her teeth, fury crackling through her veins.

“Aww, are you mad because you’re going to be eaten?” he murmured, tilting his head, “or because you’ll be eaten by someone so uncultured?”

She wanted to spit at him, to carve her rage into his flesh, but her body was no longer hers to control.

The corners of his lips curled, delighting in her weakening form.

The edges of her vision blurred. Her limbs felt leaden. The air, thick with blood, became harder and harder to pull into her failing lungs.

Yuji tsked, shaking his head as he sat back, still straddling her, still watching the light fade from her eyes.

“I guess the mystery dies with you.” He pouted, disappointed. “Such a shame. I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, almost tender if not for the cruelty in his touch.

“You were my hero once,” he murmured, voice softer now, as if he were speaking to a childhood ghost. Then, with a sneer, he added, “And yet, you die like everyone else—pathetic. Gasping for air.”

He stood, her body already cooling beneath him.

Her vision darkened. The last thing she saw was Megumi, silent and watchful, stepping forward to press a bottle of bleach into Yuji’s waiting hand.

Yuji grinned, kissed Megumi’s cheek, and then—

The stench of chemicals flooded her senses.

The burn was instant. It set her nerves ablaze.

She screamed.

And he laughed.

She screamed again, her body thrashing weakly against the inevitable, her own agony peeling her mind apart like a scalpel to flesh—

And he laughed louder, tilting his head.

The last thing she felt was fire.

The last thing she heard was Megumi’s low, amused chuckle as Yuji whispered something against his lips.

Then—nothing.

The body was still warm when Yuji whipped his face of her blood and shoved Megumi onto the nearest table.

The same table she had sat at just moments ago, sipping her tea, watching the city below like some untouchable queen.

Now, she was nothing more than a stain on the floor.

With a smooth motion from one hand, Yuji’s hoodie hit the ground, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, the play of muscles shifting as he rolled his shoulders. His breath was heavy, the scent of blood and bleach clinging to his skin like perfume.

Megumi barely had time to react before Yuji’s hands were on him— grabbing, pulling, owning .

He smirked against his boyfriend’s lips.

They fucked right next to her body.

Yuji bit his neck in return, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to leave a mark that would linger.

Megumi’s head tipped back, his voice breaking into something raw, something real.

The palace walls swallowed his cries, but the floors beneath them carried the sound two stories down.

They didn’t care.

Not when Yuji’s fingers dug into Megumi’s thighs, gripping tight, possessive, worshipping in a way only a monster could.

Not when Megumi's nails raked over Yuji’s shoulders, down his spine, carving half-moons into muscle until he, unknowingly, drew bits of blood as he shuddered under him.

Not when Yuji leaned down, peppering lazy kisses along Megumi’s jaw, down his throat, whispering, “You drive me insane, babe. I love you, so… so so much.” Each word punctuated by a deep thursts that had Megumi ascending.

And Megumi—Megumi, who never surrendered, who fought against every chain the world tried to place on him—simply whispered back, breathless, ruined, “I... I love you.”

Yuji tugged his hair, making space for himself so that he could leave his marks undisturbed. Biting and licking while his movements never slowed down.

The doors slammed open, the room shaking with Sukuna’s presence before he even spoke.

“What the fuck are you doing here, brat?” His voice was a growl, venomous and sharp. His crimson eyes flared, scanning the room— blood, bleach, a corpse.

Then his gaze snapped to Megumi.

His eyes darkened.

“And why the hell is your whore here?”

Megumi flinched, his dazed mind barely processing the insult.

Instinctively, his head dipped, pressing against Yuji’s chest, letting Yuji’s larger frame shield him from Sukuna’s line of sight.

Yuji, however—oh, Yuji did not pause.

Did not falter.

Did not even acknowledge the shift in atmosphere.

Instead, he turned his head, growling over his shoulder, voice thick with warning, dripping with something feral.

“Don’t fucking call him a whore.”

No threat. No bravado. No posturing.

Just a statement of fact.

Sukuna’s expression twitched.

Something flickered in those crimson eyes.

But whatever rage threatened to boil over, whatever punishment he had prepared, was forgotten when Yuji turned back to Megumi and continued—as Yuji felt him clench around him.

The sex was always good with Yuji, but the moments like these were what made Megumi turned on for Yuji impossibly more.

Not the voyeurism, definitely not.

Not the power.

But the devotions.

Megumi trembled, overwhelmed, undone, his entire body wrecked from the sheer force of it.

The last push, the final claim, and Megumi’s entire body shattered.

His teeth sank into Yuji’s shoulder to stifle his voice, his breath stuttering, drowning in sensation.

Yuji—strong, brutal, relentless—pressed kisses over Megumi’s hair, whispering low praises against his damp skin.

He followed soon after, burying himself deep, his fingers gripping Megumi’s waist just rough enough to hold him still, but never enough to bruise.

Even in pleasure, Yuji never hurt him.

A moment passed.

Then another.

The world slowed, settled, the tension shifting from chaos to something intimate.

Still covering him, still inside, Yuji reached for the throw blanket on the couch and draped it over Megumi’s body before pressing a soft kiss and pulling out.

Megumi, oversensitive and in love, almost whined at the loss.

Yuji kissed his nose to shush him.

Megumi, still dazed, still shaking, flushed at the warmth of it.

Yuji smirked, his voice dropping low, intimate, teasing.

“We’ll continue this in a bit.”

Megumi shivered.

He simply nodded, weakly tugging his hoodie over his head.

Yuji once dressed turned to face Sukuna, who had long since given up trying to understand whatever the hell this was. He was busy thinking.

The scent of bleach clung to the air, thick and suffocating.

His eyes flickered between the cooling corpse on the floor and the empty space where his most trusted guards should have been.

Uraume was still missing.

His staff—missing.

His castle—silent.

And standing before him now, with all the arrogance of a cat that had just torn open a bird’s throat and left it twitching in the dirt, was Yuji.

The brat yawned, stretching as if this were a casual visit. He tugged his hoodie into place, nonchalant, unbothered, unshaken.

“I came to talk retirement plans, Unc.”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened.

The casualness. The audacity.

“I will kill you,” Sukuna growled, voice low, filled with venom. Then, with a wicked sneer, he added, “Then I’ll rape your whore.”

The words were designed to provoke.

Yuji’s brows twitched, but instead of the usual explosion—the feral, bloodthirsty rage Sukuna had come to expect from him ever since learning of his existence a few months ago—Yuji smirked.

Because Yuji knew.

Knew that not reacting would send Sukuna spiraling faster than any violent outburst ever could.

“How, though?” Yuji tilted his head, voice mockingly curious. “It’s not like you’ll live long enough for that.”

Sukuna’s scowl deepened. “Threats don’t work on me.”

"Ahh, but don’t you wanna know where she went?” Yuji asked lazily. Like he didn’t really care.

Sukuna had gotten an emergency pop-up; he didn’t think it was serious; he thought she was misusing it again because she just wanted some dick in the middle of the day.

Then realization slithered into his veins like ice water.

His gaze darted to the corner by the windows.

The corner where she always sat.

The dress—the dress he had bought her a few days ago, flickred to recognition—now just another piece of ruined fabric, clinging to a lifeless body.

Bleached.

Burned.

Destroyed beyond recognition.

A sound tore from Sukuna’s throat, something raw, something he didn’t recognize.

Rage?

No.

No, it was something worse.

Yuji barely gave him a moment to process before he moved.

Fast.

Effortless.

Like he was born to kill kings.

The same massive knife drove straight into Sukuna’s skull.

Sukuna fell to his knees.

Blood poured, thick and hot, down his face, into his mouth. His body screamed at him to fight, to consume the brat and spit his bones out across the marble floor—

But he couldn’t.

His limbs refused to obey.

Yuji crouched beside him on all fours, watching with the fascination of a child pulling the wings off an insect.

Sukuna growled, lips parting to curse him, to end him—

But his tongue was useless.

His voice was gone.

The knife in his skull was cutting through everything.

He knew.

He was dying.

“Damn, Unc,” Yuji mused, tapping the handle of the knife like it was nothing more than a misplaced ornament. “I expected more.”

Sukuna’s fingers twitched, reaching, reaching—

Yuji tsked, shaking his head.

“Pathetic,” he sighed. “You know, I was gonna eat you fancy-like. High fashion. Cannibal couture.” He grinned, teeth flashing, eyes glinting with unhinged amusement. “But now? Nah. I think I’ll deep fry your ass. Serve you up with ketchup. Maybe even wrap you in a burrito with some gas station nacho cheese.”

Sukuna’s vision blurred.

His limbs weakened.

He was crawling now.

Dragging himself across the floor, inch by inch, toward her.

Yuji let him.

Watched, entertained, before lazily kicking away the furniture Sukuna tried to use for support.

“Oops.”

Sukuna barely heard it.

Barely cared.

His fingers brushed against hers.

Cold.

Lifeless.

She had gone before him.

And now—he was following.

His vision blackened.

The last thing he heard was Yuji’s voice, light, teasing, victorious.

“You know, Uncle, it’s kinda funny,” he hummed. “I did in a day what the Japanese spies couldn’t do in years.”

And then—

Darkness.

---

Japan

The scent of burnt flesh still lingered in Megumi’s nostrils as he stood by the Mustang GT , eyes hidden behind sunglasses, hands in his pockets, waiting.

The city was alive behind him—the murmur of passing cars, the distant wail of sirens. Tokyo never stopped.

Neither did they.

He could still recall how they had to tie Sukuna along with his woman to a boulder and sink him in the ocean. Being cannibals sounded absolutely disgusting to both him and Yuji; it was more to piss her and Sukuna off in there final moments.

A woman and her son approaching broke him out of his thoughts.

The woman—blonde, aged by grief rather than years—moved stiffly, as if the weight of her own bones was too much to bear. Her son, broad-shouldered, protective, walked beside her like a silent bodyguard, one hand resting on her shoulder as if that could shield her from reality. He had to grow up too quickly when his older brother, some long white-haired idiot, got kidnapped by Y/N years ago, and they serched but found absolutely nothing until he met Megumi in college.

Megumi didn’t acknowledge them beyond extending his hand. The woman pressed a thick envelope of cash into his palm, fingers trembling.

He took it without looking.

In exchange, he handed her his envelope.

Inside was—photographs.

The last remnants of the woman she had spent decades searching for.

The last proof that her nightmare had an ending.

Her breath hitched as she flipped through them, her shoulders sagging with a relief that was almost indistinguishable from sorrow. Tears rolled down her cheeks, silent, exhausted.

Megumi turned to the son, offering him the envelope of cash back.

“Take this,” he said, voice as flat as dead air. “Leave the country. Never return.”

The son hesitated and looked at Megumi like he wanted to say something. But in the end, he took the money.

And they left.

Megumi watched Todo and his mother, Yuki Tsukumo, disappear into the Tokyo sunlight.

It had been years since Megumi first realized the world wasn’t made of heroes and villains—just predators and prey.

When he was a child, someone had killed his father’s best friend, his godfather, Gojo Satoru, Japan’s former defense minister. The same person had slaughtered Gojo’s husband, Nanami Kento, the nation’s most renowned psychiatric scientist for the criminally insane.

The murderer was never caught.

Not because there was no evidence. Not because there were no suspects.

But because no one ever saw the culprits again.

The perfect crime.

Or so they thought.

When Megumi entered university, he found him.

Itadori Yuji.

Shy, socially awkward, nerdy Yuji.

Yuji, who stuttered when Megumi looked at him too long.

Yuji, who was too eager to please, too quick to latch onto Megumi’s words like they were commandments from God.

Yuji, whose hands twitched when he thought no one was looking.

Yuji, who would do anything for him.

That was when Megumi knew.

Someone had to replace Geto Suguru after his unfortunate suicide.

And who better than Megumi himself.

The plan he had crafted with Higuruma would succeed. And it did.

Yuji wasn’t just insane.

He was Megumi’s brand of insane.

The problem was his family.

Toji and his sisters Maki and Mai were now breathing down his neck to let them ‘protect’ Megumi from Yuji.

He wasn’t supposed to become this insane.

They were watching, waiting for proof that Yuji had rotted beyond repair.

That he was too far gone.

For Megumi to kill him and clear his own name, forever.

They didn’t understand.

Yuji wasn’t a mistake.

Yuji was in love.

And Megumi didn’t want a love that came with boundaries wrapped in ‘unconditional’ packaging.

Megumi didn’t want a love who wouldn’t kill for him

Once he knew what he could have, he didn’t want to get back to dating a partner who would turn into just another ordinary 9-to-5 nobody—some lifeless, gutless thing that spent years chasing him only to grow fat and complacent the second he confessed.

Someone who’d let their body and mind wither, who would suck the life from him, siphon his ideas, drain his passion until he was nothing but a husk.

Sucking up his energy and drive and keep taking and taking until there is nothing left to take, then one day wake up and tell Megumi he’s changed. He’s not socially acceptable in one way or the other; he isn’t this or that when they never look at themselves.

No.

Megumi didn’t want it at any cost.

He wanted Yuji.

Because Yuji would never stop chasing him.

Yuji would never stop seeing him, loving him, prioritizing him over everything and everyone—even his own blood.

Yuji would never become complacent in any way that hurts Megumi.

Megumi wanted a love that could burn the world down for him all the while smiling about it.

And Yuji gave him that.

For seven years now, Yuji had proven it, time and time again.

He had slit throats and burned bodies and erased entire bloodlines for him.

He had made Megumi the center of his universe.

And Megumi would never settle for less.

So he decided.

He opened the car door with a click and slid inside.

Warm arms wrapped around him immediately.

Yuji’s lips ghosted over his temple, lingering, slow.

“You look like a hot celebrity in sunglasses, Megumi,” Yuji murmured in his ear, voice husky. “Keep wearing those.”

Megumi grumbled, but his face betrayed him, the blush creeping up his neck.

Yuji grinned, turned the ignition and shifted gears.

The Mustang GT roared to life, leaving the past in flames behind them.

A/N: And that concludes this love story—if you can even call it that. A relationship built on devotion, manipulation and an unholy amount of meat.

All Works Masterlist

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silverink58 · 1 year ago

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Christmas art I did for Fushiita Cafe Event.

#my work #fan art #may’s jjk fanart #fushiguro x itadori #fushiita

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megumiifushiiguro · 1 year ago

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thinking thoughts abt....todo asking megumi his type in WOMEN...todo only adding that 'if he likes MEN its fine too' when asking MEGUMI ONLY and NO ONE ELSE.....megumi saying as long as that PERSON NOT WOMAN has an unshakable character....ITADORI'S name literally meaning "unshakable character"....megumi embarrassed to tell itadori his answer to todo's question in the jjk game....thinking THOUGHTS.

#IM GOING INSANE OVER HERE CAN U TELL #SLIDE INTO MY DMS I NEED TO TALK ABT THESE 2 IDIOTS OH GOD OH ALSO PLS PLS GIMME A FANFIC REC #megumi fushiguro #megumi x yuuji #megumi x itadori #fushiita #itafushi #yuji itadori #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #itadori yuji #yuuji itadori #fushiguro megumi #itadori x fushiguro #yuuji x megumi #fushiguro x itadori #<- used so many tags cuz i literally dont know which are the ships and character tags help

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wormdevourer · 8 months ago

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yuji: wakes Megumi up at three am

megumi: yuji it’s 3 am what the fuc-

yuji: do you think fish know what a hook is or do they just see metal and go ‘ooh tasty’??

megumi: …

megumi: go back to sleep you idiot

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tournesoleil13 · 10 months ago

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Strawberries 🍓

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro x itadori #itadori x fushiguro #itafushi #fushiita #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #mine

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frostfires-blog · 3 months ago

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Hi, Bleach fan! Just saw your IchiRuki post and I love it! You can't imagine how excited I am to found IchiRuki shipper in 2024!

So, what do you think are Ichigo and Rukia's greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? What are your favorite (canon) IchiRuki moments? What are your favorite headcanons of them?

Do you have any fav ships (from any fandom) that the dyanamic remind you of IchiRuki?

Thanks if you want to answer

Hi, sorry for the wait! I'm just as excited to see another IchiRuki shipper! I swear ever since TYBW came out, we've been heavily persecuted... So it's nice to be asked about IchiRuki in a positive context rather than a negative one. Just an obligatory disclaimer before I start: Although I have been spoilt for the series ending, I have not officially read the manga. I know that rival shippers are going to use this against me... But I needed to clarify that in case I slightly misremember something. However, I doubt I will since I won't really be speaking about anything beyond where the anime left off.

[My answers are under the cut because I rambled too much again sorry ❀]

-> Ichigo & Rukia's greatest strengths: ⦁ Their strong natural chemistry: They just have a genuine and instantaneous emotional connection that elicits a sense of familiarity and warmth. ⦁ Conversely, they fit into both the "birds of a feather" and "opposites attract" tropes. This implies that, despite their differences, they share a few commonalities—which is what accounts for their strong connection. ⦁ They have both positively impacted one another, consistently uplifting and motivating one another and bringing each other back from their lowest points. Most notably, Rukia is a source of strength, motivation, and light for Ichigo. In the same way that Ichigo is a driving force in Rukia's life, serving as a source of courage and resolve. ⦁ As a result of their similar experiences and struggles—especially with self-doubt and loss—they possess a unique understanding of one another that no one else possesses. Consequently, they are able to instinctively support one another in overcoming these challenges and progress towards bettering themselves.

-> Ichigo & Rukia's greatest weaknesses: ⦁ The significant disparity in their lives, circumstances, and careers could stand in the way of their relationship—though with some concessions, this is not immutable. ⦁ They elicit each other's stubbornness and strong willedness, which often results in bickering. While I find this endearing, I know this is a source of contention for many fans. ⦁ Towards the end of the series—in particular during the TYBW arc—they don't get as much screentime together.

-> What I love about their dynamic: ⦁ Simply speaking, they are a perfect amalgamation of my favourite tropes and symbolism. ⦁ Their perfectly counterbalanced designs and symbolism seamlessly integrate into their respective roles in the series, not only enhancing their dynamic but also conveying the notion of being fated or destined soulmates. ⦁ Their mutually important roles in the series, along with their profound trust and respect for one another, foster a sense of equality and balance seldomly seen in shounen F/M pairings. ⦁ Throughout the series, their most significant moments are consistently paralleled and inverted. This not only enables both of them to mutually support and uplift one another but also further reinforces their dynamic as a cornerstone of the series.

-> My favourite canon IchiRuki moments: There are honestly so many, as I love all of the interactions, but if I had to limit myself to a top four, then it would be as follows:

4) When Rukia transfers her powers to Ichigo for the first time (Episode 1) - This has to be one of the most iconic IchiRuki scenes considering this is the moment where it all began.

3) Ichigo saves Rukia from her execution - Another obvious choice. What makes this moment appealing to me is that Ichigo enables Rukia to finally be upfront about her feelings and reinvigorates her desire to exist. This allows this scene to transcend the typical hero saves the girl premise.

2) Rukia and Ichigo reuniting during the Fullbring arc - This scene brought me to tears with its masterful parallels of both of the previous entries on my list here by having Rukia show up to support and guide Ichigo once more. I adore the manner in which Rukia can uplift him and encourage him with only a few words and her presence.

1) Ichigo thanking and saying farewell to Rukia after losing his powers - Some might find it ironic that this scene tops my list, but my reasoning goes beyond my fondness for angst. In my opinion, this scene—as well as its aftermath—cements how deeply Ichigo and Rukia care for one another. In the anime, the compelling voice acting as well as the soft colours and fluid animation deepen my love for this scene. Conversely, the manga's fluid panelling and delicate expressions are remiscent of that in shoujo manga.

P.S. I would've highlighted some scenes from the 3rd Bleach Movie: Fade To Black—but since its still debated whether the movies are canonical, I opted not to.

-> My favourite IchiRuki headcanons:

I'm more of a trope, motif, and symbolism analysis person—so I've never really given any thought to headcanons... To be honest, I don't think I fully know what counts as a headcanon. I love seeing people use Sun×Moon, Day×Night, Ying×Yang, and Fire×Ice symbolism for IchiRuki. Also, this is much less common, but I also like seeing fan artists use Forget-Me-Not flowers for IchiRuki—that's totally their flower. I don't know if those count as headcanons...So I'd love for you guys to share your favourite headcanons in the comments...

-> Ships that remind me about IchiRuki:

To be honest, this is a tricky question to answer... Everyone is drawn to ships for different reasons... Every ship is different, and every series is different... So it goes without saying that just because you ship a pairing in one series doesn't mean you'll ship a similar ship in another show. People always get offended when someone always gets offended when comparisons are drawn between ships—especially those from different series. Having said that, I tried my best; so, please don't criticise me too harshly I'd love to hear about any other ships that remind you guys of IchiRuki since I'm sure I might have missed a couple of good options...

1) ChiKawa / Chika Kudo × Satowa Hozuki (Kono Oto Tomare!) — > Similar personalities/dynamics: ⦁ Just like Ichigo, Chika is a devoted and caring friend who can be a bit straightforward, impulsive, and short-tempered at times. ⦁ Just like Rukia, Satowa is graceful, determined, and stubborn. Satowa, like Rukia, has difficulty opening up to others and is adept at putting on a damsel in distress act to get her way in troublesome situations. ⦁ Both pairs initially get off on the wrong foot and often bicker because of their stubbornness, but ultimately come to respect, trust and care for one another. > Common tropes: ⦁ Both pairs share the "belligerent tension", "birds of a feather", "can't live with them, can't live without them", "everyone can see it", and "slow burn" tropes. > Similar backgrounds: ⦁ Before the start of the series, Chika often got into fights and had a "deliquent" image, which is somewhat reminiscent of Ichigo's backstory. ⦁ Satowa, like Rukia, is apart of a presigious family and faced immense pressure, which resulted in her becoming isolated and aloof. > Similar in appearance: ⦁ Both pairs have a guy with bright, light-coloured hair and brown eyes. Both pairs have a girl with straight, black hair with bangs.

2) Takumi Usui × Misaki Ayuzawa (Kaichou wa Maid-sama!) — > Similar personalities/dynamics: ⦁ Usui, like Ichigo, is confident, reliable, talented, and protective. ⦁ Misaki, like Rukia, is intelligent, diligent, and determined. Both characters struggle with being honest with themselves (and others) about their feelings and wants. ⦁ Usui enjoys teasing Misaki, similarly to how Rukia oftentimes teases Ichigo. ⦁ Both pairs initially get off on the wrong foot and often bicker because of their stubbornness, but ultimately come to respect, trust, and care for one another. > Similar backgrounds: ⦁ Usui, like Rukia, is partially a member of a prestigious family and is now isolated and somewhat aloof as a result of his upbringing. ⦁ Misaki, like Ichigo, cares greatly for her family and younger sibling and works hard to protect her. > Common tropes: ⦁ Both pairs share the "belligerent tension", "birds of a feather", "can't live with them, can't live without them", "declaration of protection", "everyone can see it", "like an old married couple" and "slow burn" tropes. > Similar in appearance: ⦁ Both pairs have a guy with light and bright-coloured spikey hair. Both pairs have a girl with straight, black, shoulder-length hair with bangs.

3) ItaFushi / Yuji Itadori × Megumi Fushiguro (Jujutsu Kaisen) — > Similar personalities/dynamics: ⦁ Both pairs have matching MBTI results. With Ichigo and Yuji falling under ISFP while Rukia and Megumi fall under ISTJ. ⦁ Yuji, like Ichigo, values protecting others—especially his friends—and is equally hard-working, determined, passionate, and impulsive. ⦁ Megumi, like Rukia, is intelligent, serious, blunt, diligent, and talented. He is equally as aloof, stubborn and short-tempered. ⦁ Both pairs have complementary personalities and fight well alongside their respective partner. Both pairs are very intuitive of their partner's needs and get along well—despite occasional teasing and bickering. > Similar Backgrounds: ⦁ Like Rukia, Megumi has a complex relationship with his older, adoptive sibling. Megumi and Rukia are both apart of prestigious clans that are involved with eliminating supernatural creatures. ⦁ Like Ichigo, Yuji has a mysterious family background with some of his family members being somewhat connected to one of the series' main villians. Both characters possess latent, inherent abilities as a result of their heritage. Both characters battle with literal "inner-demons". > Similar circumstances/roles in the series: ⦁ Both pairs consist of the protagonist and deuteragonist of their respective series. ⦁ Both Ichigo and Yuji were living relatively ordinary lives until they ran into their respective deuteragonist and had to awaken supernatural abilities to save themselves and the latter from a supernatural creature. ⦁ Both Rukia and Megumi have disobeyed orders/rules in order to protect their respective protagonist. ⦁ Both Ichigo and Yuji risked being executed as a result of the powers they awakened but were saved by their respective deuteragonist. ⦁ Conversely, at different points in their respective series, both Rukia and Megumi had lost their will to live and were then saved by their respective protagonist. > Common tropes: ⦁ Both pairs share the "battle couple", "can't live with them, can't live without them", "declaration of protection", "everyone can see it", "fan-preferred couple", "friends to lovers", "I owe you my life", "rescue romance", "star-crossed lovers", "slow burn", "sun × moon" and "you are better than you think you are" tropes.

4) GinTsu / Gintoki Sakata × Tsukuyo (Gintama) — > Similar personalities/dynamics: ⦁ Gintoki, like Ichigo, is very strong-willed, stubborn, short-tempered and impulsive. Conversely, behind their cool and detached image, both characters are very charismatic, compassionate, reliable and empathetic. ⦁ In terms of MBTI results, Rukia and Tsukuyo both fall under ISTJ. Like Rukia, Tsukuyo initially believed in placing duty above her personal feelings and struggled with emotional transparency and self-worth. Both characters are very responsible, diligent, determined and blunt. ⦁ Both pairs have complementary personalities and fight well alongside their respective partner. Both pairs are very intuitive of their partner's needs and get along well. ⦁ Although both pairs often bicker and tease each other, this does not detract from their respect, trust, and care for one another. > Similar backgrounds: ⦁ Like Ichigo and Rukia, who comprehend and assist one another because of their similar past experiences, Gintoki and Tsukuyo have comparable understanding and support. This theme is further developed in Gintama's "Red Spider Arc" where Gintoki and Tsukuyo's backstories are even more explicitly contrasted. > Similar circumstances and roles in series: ⦁ Both Tsukuyo and Rukia have defied orders to protect their respective protagonist. ⦁ Both Tsukuyo and Rukia struggle with emotional transparency and self-worth. Both characters have learnt to embrace their feelings and be less constrained thanks to their respective protagonist. > Corresponding symbolism & motifs: ⦁ Both pairs have canonically been associated with celestial motifs with Rukia and Tsukuyo being associated with the moon while Ichigo and Gintoki are associated with the Sun. ⦁ Rukia and Gintoki have been respectively described as the "light" in Ichigo and Tsukuyo's lives. ⦁ Rukia has been associated with Winter and Night while Ichigo has been associated with Summer and Day. Conversely, Tsukuyo has been associated with night and autumn while Gintoki has been associated with day and spring. > Common tropes: ⦁ Both pairs share the "a shared suffering", "back-to-back badasses", "battle couple", "belligerent tension", "birds of a feather", "can't live with them, can't live without them", "declaration of protection", "everyone can see it", "flirting under fire", "friends to lovers", "I owe you my life", "mutual respect", "slow burn", "sun × moon" and "you are better than you think you are" tropes.

If you made it till the end, I'm so grateful. Thanks for reading my ramblings. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments below. Also, remember not to spread misinformation and to respect others' right to formulate their own opinions.

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