#and after the star plasma arc. he would be more curse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

javarium · 6 months

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from mountains to dust

— geto x reader; gojo x reader; geto x gojo

it’s been nothing but bad lapses in judgement over the last few months, over and over again. the beginning restarts over and over again; there’s no end to the storyline in sight. trying to change it seems futile, but you hope there’s purpose in every choice you make… no matter how terrible they may be.

w — canon divergence, partial canon-compliance, takes place post-Star Plasma Arc, angst, poly relationship, character death, cussing, minimal dialogue heehee

Before you stands the man you fell in love with. He looks better, if only slightly, since you last saw him. He’s regained some of his weight, the color in his cheeks, and lost the bags of exhaustion under his beautiful eyes.

Behind him stands two girls, one with light brown hair and the other with black, both staring at you wide-eyed with wonder and curiosity.

“So that means this was a set-up?”

Your voice is quiet, almost too quiet that he has to strain to hear. But he does, and he nods to confirm your thoughts. “It was. I’m not sorry.”

“Of course you’re not.”

The text message you’d gotten two days ago had led up to this moment: to you seeing him again, with two tiny girls by his side. Why on Earth he thought this was a good idea was beyond your reasoning.

But maybe it was because of those girls behind him. Maybe he was ready to repent for what he’d done. Maybe he was ready to come back, come home to you and Satoru and just live and breathe again. Maybe this was fate rewriting itself, fixing the once-thought irreparable damage that had been done not even a year ago.

You gulp down spit in uncertainty. “Why… Geto?”

He visibly winces at the use of his last name. But he understands. The hesitation in addressing him by his last name tells him of how unsure you are of your relationship. He gets it. After what he’s done, after everything he’s put you through, he knows he’s on shaky ground. He shouldn’t expect you to call him by his first name anymore. He’s lost that privilege, lost the luxury of his name rolling off the lips he loved to kiss so much.

“Because…”

Because he still loves you. He wants you with him, by his side. If there’s one thing he wants to be selfish about, it’s wanting you with him. It’s him wanting to wrap you in his arms every night and hold you; him wanting to watch you get to know Nanako and Mimiko and do girly things with them. To be a mother to them. He knows you’d be a good mom. He can see it now in the way you look at the twins clutching the back of his robe.

He wants Satoru, too, but he knows that he’s too far from his reach.

”Because I know you’d understand.”

Because between you and Satoru, only you would know. Only you would know what it would be like for everything to be too much. To do something more direct about saving jujutsu sorcerers from pain, from death. From dealing with Curses that plagued the planet thanks to those inferior monkeys. Only you would understand the line, understand that he wasn’t trying to be a selfish bastard by killing off all the monkeys of the planet to save his own kind.

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me?”

You know what he’s asking. He wants you to understand. And you do. But at the same time, you understand Satoru, too. Both of them were trying to change the world for the better, to fix the bullshit of the world of jujutsu for the sake of not just the world, but for sorcerers as well. Their ways were just so… different. Drastically so. You wanted them both to win, to succeed to change the world of sorcerers for the better, because it was nothing but hell. You just never expected to be forced to choose, to take sides with the two men your heart had fallen head over heels for.

”I do.”

You shake your head. “You don’t.” The burn of tears sting at your eyes. “What’s their names?”

Suguru places his left hand behind the black-haired girl’s head. “This is Mimiko.” And then he does the same with the girl with light brown hair. “And this is Nanako.”

You smile at them, eyes gazing over their little bodies that pump cursed energy enough to be sorcerers.

You hate it.

“Lovely names…” you whisper.

You dip your head and close your eyes. You’re shaking, you note. Tears line your eyes, but you force them back. And you forever hate yourself for the decision you make.

Gojo Satoru knows he isn’t alone, despite feeling like it with every time he draws breath in and out of his lungs. He knows that you’re still there, waiting for him to come around and meet you halfway.

But he takes too long. He’ll always be the strongest, but he’ll always be too fucking late.

The words coming from his teacher’s lips almost fall on deaf ears. What he hears is just as bad, if not worse, than when he was told Suguru has massacred a village and was now set for execution.

“[Name] has gone missing. There’s a likelihood she’s sided with Suguru,” the older man says. “She left a note I found, saying she was going to go bring him in, come morning she’d be back with him.”

“But she hasn’t.” Gojo doesn’t like the quiver in his voice.

“She’s either sided with Suguru,” Yaga says, “or he’s killed her. She’s vanished. Not even her residuals are left.”

And when Gojo goes to investigate to try and prove him wrong, he finds out his teacher is right. You’ve masked yourself perfectly, so much so that not even his mostly-trained Six Eyes can pick up on any wisp of your cursed energy.

You were always good at stealth. You weren’t strong like him or Suguru, but you were adept at stealth techniques. Reconnaissance, stealth — you were essentially a ninja. Something he and Suguru used to joke about all the time.

Gojo Satoru sits alone in his dorm room once he’s deemed what his teacher has said to be truth. He can’t find any of your residuals, not a trace of it left. Everything you own and have is left behind, like you had truly gone out with the intent of coming back. With Suguru, like you said. You were supposed to come back with Suguru.

He leans forward to think, elbows resting on his knees. His blackout glasses slip down his nose, bit by bit. He grabs them off his nose and slings them toward the wall and doesn’t care when he hears an audible crack! a split second later. He doesn’t care. He has enough money to buy as many glasses as he wants.

Too bad that money can’t buy back the two people he cares for the most in this shitty world.

“Mama!”

“Get up!”

Nanako and Mimiko jump on the bed, too eager for whatever time it was. You grumble and bury your head deeper into the pillow, hoping they’d understand that you were far too tired and sleepy to do whatever they had in store for you.

“Papa, Mama won’t get up!”

“She won’t, will she?”

You hate Suguru. You really don’t want to get up. Not after the restless night you’ve had. But once he makes his appearance, it was either get up or suffer the consequences.

Groaning, you lift yourself from the bed a few inches, using your elbows to lift your head and prop up on. And slowly but surely, you manage to blink your tired eyes open. The desire of sleep fades faster than you anticipate and make you wonder if you need coffee today. Strange.

“Breakfast is ready,” Suguru says. He bends down as you sit up properly, pressing a kiss to your temple sweetly. “If you decide to get up, that is,” he teases further. It makes you grumble, but as you watch Nanako and Mimiko trail after him at his request, you can’t help but feel your heart fill with warmth, and the need to oblige Suguru’s desire to see you down in the kitchen with your found family.

You tie your robe around you, keeping some semblance of morning comfort as you walk to the kitchen.

Suguru, only for you and your girls, would ever be in the kitchen making you three pancakes and sausages. He would for Satoru too, if he were here. No doubt the white-haired male would be the one making the biggest fuss of the four of you about the pancake delivery being too slow. To which Suguru would most definitely chuckle at and tell Satoru he’d make more if he hushed. And Satoru would happily oblige.

It’s been almost five years since your departure from the school — yours and Suguru’s — with a broken heart. But at the same time, you know you would’ve never been happy, no matter what decision you made. It would’ve ripped you to shreds regardless. Because you had to choose between them, between Satoru and Suguru, the two men on you loved most on this godforsaken planet.

When you chose Suguru, you hoped that there would be enough resolve in you to bring him back home, even if it took you years to do it. Even to this day, you still hope that there’s something you can do, or take advantage of something happening to get him to go back and be put on probation, rather than the execution he’s scheduled for if any sorcerer gets their filthy hands on him.

You’re sure Satoru wouldn’t let anything happen to Suguru anyway. You’ve heard of the immense power he wields now, both with his refined jujutsu as well as politically, since on his twentieth birthday, he officially became the head of the Gojo Clan.

“Can we go shopping today?” Nanako asks. She looks expectantly at Suguru, who fakes being deep in thought. It makes you lift a hand to hide your smile.

Suguru looks at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He knows you don’t like getting out. It’s both because you’re in introvert and hate the crowds of malls and streets, and also from the fact you don’t want to get caught by jujutsu sorcerers. Yes, you could handle them, but you didn’t want to deal with such hassle; defeating them would be easy. Unless it was Satoru, of course.

“I dunno,” he hums, “but I think you’d better ask Mom, don’t you think?”

The two ten-year-old twins get whiplash when they turn to face you with sparkles in their eyes. You almost look away, reminded of a young girl with black hair that had the same look of excitement in her eyes.

You don’t deny the twins their excitement or Suguru his satisfaction.

So you take the twins to the mall. It isn’t the one closest to your home, Nanako and Mimiko having been there a few times already. You take them to a new mall, one that’s just outside proximity of the normal one.

That was your first mistake.

You have four bags next to your seat as you devour the soba in front of you. The twins are happily eating their favorite ramen, in a contest to see who can finish the too-big bowl first. You’re texting Suguru, who’s happy to hear that the girls are having a good time. It’s better than what he’s dealing with: an unruly set of followers of the cult he leads, questioning him and his methods of dealing with the riddance of “monkeys” on such a large scale.

You understood them, you really did. But there was no doubt that your lover would kill them before the sun sets.

As you’re putting your phone away, that’s when you sense it: the familiar, boundless cursed energy of the Limitless, belonging to the person whom you’d left behind to fend for himself. He may have been the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, but that didn’t mean he was the strongest mentally, even if he tried to or appeared to be.

You direct your attention back to the girls and ask them, “You guys still want to go to the candy store?”

“Yeah!”

You fish for the card you’ve been using and give it to them. “I think you two are big enough to go by yourselves. Just don’t by too much, okay?”

Nanako and Mimiko buzz with excitement, eyes twinkling with absolute glee. They take the card and skip away. You weren’t worried about their safety. You could easily track their cursed energy if you need to. So you stand, ready to turn and gather your jacket-

“[Name]?”

The clear brokenness in his tone made you stop, facing away from the man that the voice belonged to. You’re frozen solid; as much as you want to turn around and face him, your feet seem to be stuck, rooted to the ground.

But Satoru is strong enough to move for you, and your eyes suddenly see his black shoes mere inches from your own.

“Look at me.”

It’s not commanding. Not even slightly. He’d never use that tone with you. With you, he was always soft, always treating you like the porcelain you’d always wanted to be since you were a little girl.

But you fear porcelain has turned to titanium, that Satoru would no longer want a girl that had made herself into steel.

Your eyes slowly lift to meet his, and you feel the burn of tears edge at your eyelids.

God, he’s so handsome, so ethereal. If Suguru saw him now, you’re sure he’d feel the same as you: all you want to do is press your lips to his in the sweetest, most apologetic kiss you could muster. You’d wrap your arms around him and never let him go again. You’d never walk away from a man that loved you and Suguru so dearly ever again.

But the guilt gnawed away at you. You don’t deserve it anymore. This is the path you chose, your regret tells you. And there’s nothing you can do to change it.

Satoru knows you too well, even after a few good years apart. He loved you so much he could read you like an open book written in big letters in bold print. He doesn’t need the Six Eyes to feel the remorse pouring from your soul.

“God…” he breaths out.

Tears wet your lashes as you blink. His love thrums from his cursed energy and you feel even worse. You almost speak, but he does first.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You cry out his name, and are unable to help falling into the sanctuary of his arms you’ve longed to feel again.

But this is the path you’ve chosen.

You don’t tell Suguru when you get home. Not immediately. He knows, because he can see his other beloved’s residuals on you. He doesn’t pry, not then. He’ll eventually come to know what transpired, but for now he’s okay with making sure you’re comforted, that you know he loves you, too.

It’s 2017 when Suguru zones in on the school he once went to. He becomes enamored with Okkotsu Yuuta, a new Special Grade sorcerer that you can tell is a distant relative of Satoru’s. They have a similar wavelength, you note, that only appears in a familial way.

He wants to bring him over to his side, if only to be able to take and tame the Queen of Curses, Rika Orimoto from him to bring Suguru’s goal to life. She’s, from what you understand, almost unstoppable. Even for Satoru. You’re sure the white-haired man could take her on if need be. You still have that much faith in his abilities.

Secretly, you hope Suguru fails.

It’s 2017 when you become extra nauseous in the late morning and immediately puke into the sink. It’s not the smell of anything that does it; just a random, overwhelming nausea that makes you almost crumble to your knees by the sink.

You’ve had your suspicions for a week now. But when you take a look in the mirror, you activate your cursed energy, and in that moment, all of your prior suspicions are confirmed. You begin to cry in joy at the thought of having your own baby, your own flesh and blood with one of the men you love so dearly.

One of them.

You wish Satoru was here to enjoy your pregnancy too.

You grow and grow over the months and Nanako and Mimiko are absolutely overjoyed to have another sibling join. They hope it’s a girl too, because the only boy they can stand is the man that’s their father.

Come September 21st, you give birth to a carbon copy of yourself. Suguru couldn’t be any happier. If he was, he might explode from the joy pumping through his veins. The absolute happiness in his eyes is worth every second of agony you went through during labor. There’s nothing of the man who runs such a dark organization to rid the world of non-sorcerers.

There is only Geto Suguru, the man you fell in love with at the naive age of 16, who stares down at his newborn daughter and swears with every ounce of his being that he is going to give her world and place it at her feet.

It’s 2017, Christmas Eve, when your love launches an attack on jujutsu high, determined to win and come back with Rika Orimoto at his beck and call. There’s so much loss and sufferance from both sides that you can barely stomach it.

You don’t stay on the frontlines too long, opting to use your powers to teleport to the school. You know Satoru knows you’re involved, you just wonder if he’s going to tell anyone.

At the school, you make one last appeal to your love before he takes on the new Special Grade teenager. You’re terrified. You see how strong the boy’s Curse is, and you get to dissuade him from the fight. You’re terrified even further, because you know that Suguru is going to lose.

Indeed, he does lose. Not just the fight, but so much more.

It’s 2017 when Geto Suguru admits defeat and succumbs to the consequences of his actions ten years ago and henceforth, all while holding the dead body of the mother of his child, the woman he and Satoru loved the most, with tears streaming down his face and agony rending his soul asunder.

It’s 2017 when Satoru meets the little baby girl you gave birth to, and just the same as her biological father, he also swears to her that he’ll put the world at her feet if she asks, protect her and her dad, the man he loves, just like her mom would’ve wanted him to.

She coos in response, and he swears on his own life that nothing will ever happen to her.

It’s Halloween of 2018, and before them stands the woman they both fell in love with.

But the stitches across your head told them that you were not you.

Not anymore.

That someone, something, was inside of you, possessing your body. Desecrating your soul, your existence, their memories of you, and the wonderful life you’d lived by their sides for as long as you had. Desecrating the beauty of your being and the possibilities of what could have been had the both of them not been so damn fucking selfish.

In Shibuya, on Halloween, for nineteen days, Gojo Satoru is sealed within the prison realm by a madman inhabiting your body.

On that day, both he and Suguru swear by everything in their power that they will do what they must to get rid of the evil inhabiting your body. To end whatever sick games the person inside your corpse has planned.

For themselves, for your daughter, and for you, they will lay your body to rest and let your soul be in peace.

After everything you’ve done, you deserve that much.

a/n: I’ll do an rb w/ tags later omg, the taglist is so long

#geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader x gojo #gojo x reader x geto #gojo x geto #suguru geto x you #suguru x reader #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #jjk imagines

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mxplesyrvp · 6 months

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`•*ੈ💭`‧₊˚— whimsical whites and baby blues | feat. gojo satoru.

* ˚💭‧₊˚ synopsis — satoru thinks its dangerous for you to love him so much but he still can't help but be a little selfish, which scares him. however, you would stop at nothing to keep loving him either, even if it cost you your life.

⚘ word count + genre — 1.13k || hurt/comfort

⚘ warnings — spoilers + set in gojo's past arc, established relationship, a lot of internal monologue, less dialogue + more feels, mentions of death, very self-indulgent, not beta read. || gn!reader.

⚘ notes! — finally getting into writing after a long time and it's my first time writing for gojo! please be kind <33

you never knew that stars could taste like fractured dreams until you kissed him.

on most days, his kisses taste like clear blue skies —whimsical and full of wonder— stealing your breath with the secrets they held. but on other days, they were simple and delightful like clouds of cotton candy, each kiss a swirl of sugary sweetness. sometimes they were akin to cups of hot chocolate on a winter's night, comforting you with an embrace. other times, they tasted like stolen pancakes, crisp at the edges and soft in the centre, dipped in honey as they left a trail of golden warmth in their wake.

but now when your lips touched his, the only thing you could taste were stars so broken they had forgotten how to shine. they tasted like lost ambition, burning desperation and the hopelessness of being left alone yet again. it felt like the pleading of a worshipper whose God had left His shrine; like the silence of a lover who had had his heart broken.

when it came to gojo satoru, he liked to think that no force in the world could ever rival his strength. but this time, he had been brought down to his knees, his heart bloodied and blooming into a bruised flower, all because his God—the light of his life—had stepped over the threshold of his paradise.

even with the weight of the world on his shoulders, satoru loved you as much as you did him, despite death clinging to your lips. but no other feeling could ever compare to what he had for his best friend, geto suguru. and he was gone, taking the keys to the doors he had locked so meticulously with those cursed hands of his, for he believed that gojo could never open them up without him.

"i was starting to get used to the thought that you weren't coming back either," he said, misery sitting heavy on his tongue.

"to be very honest," you said, a small smile pulling the corners of your lips,"i was getting used to it too."

it had been over a month since you were stranded in the nasty domain of the curse you were assigned to exorcize— a hellish paradise you would love to live in had it been a real place, had it not been killing you so slow that you barely ever noticed. hours after you saw through your assignment, you knew of all the things that had transpired in the time you were held off. the assassination of the star plasma vessel, the death of toji fushiguro, geto and his new plan of action— after all, bad news had wings and the winds always favoured them to travel faster.

"i don't think I'll ever get used to this weird feeling," he huffs out, his gaze unfocused, shifting towards the window.

and you, just like always, could no longer tell if his eyes were a reflection of the sky or the sky resided within them. blue, blue, blue— so blue that you could almost see the storm brewing within them. you could tell he was lost in that storm, vulnerability teasing the edges of the surface under which he had buried it.

"what feeling?" you asked quite bluntly, bringing him back to reality.

and those beautiful blue eyes found their way into your weary ones. You would never get over how blue they were or how much you would love to drown in them, until you were that very colour and nothing else was left of you. It was a curious thing to keep guessing how much depth those eyes held and once again your mind was splintered between deciding whether they were more akin to the ocean than the skies.

"the feeling of being left behind like this," he said, the pain behind each word so pronounced that even you could feel it. "it's like almost everyone i'm associated with is always driven to the edge. they distance themselves or just....die. i'm afraid that one of these days, i might cause you to leave as well."

this time, you couldn't help but snicker a little. if you were to count the number of times you made memories with gojo, you'd find that most of them were nightmares. but even in those you could find buds of hope; because nightmares were dreams too. dreams were hopeful little things. and they were the heart's favourite delicacies for which it hungered so relentlessly.

it was a given there was no safe place in the world for people like you. people like you who carried angels within your hearts and demons in your blood, who were often brought down by that which you hunted, who carried battles in your fingertips, in every breath and every heartbeat— there was no place safer than this one for you. it was a daunting thing to love someone in a world like that, where every breath you drew could be your last. but brutal was the heart which fed on love and it would stop at nothing to want more of that feeling.

"there's no way I would ever leave on my own," you said, smiling through your teeth, "even death will be a small price to pay. he pales in comparison to what I have with you, satoru."

"and you, kind of need a hug," you added more as an afterthought to lighten the mood a little.

gojo wasted no time to pull you into him, both his hands snaking around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck. he smelled like caramel and citrus as usual, his breath soft and frosty hair tickling your skin.

you knew better than most humans that you did not have all the time in the world. if death wanted you, he would find you even if you tried to hide from him. but for now, it was helpless against the sun inside of gojo. the sun within him didn't shine like early morning warm rays but it burned like wildfire. it burned so golden that it was almost white, scorching your heart in the process. and he still believed that he was safe— safe enough to love you and for you to love as well.

he knew very well that the sun inside him could burn the world, but he still looked at you like you were his undoing, he still held you like he wanted you to love him. and to love him was to face the wildfire inside him— to burn with him.

at that moment, you wish you could have a conversation with death. if you could, then you would look it in the eyes and say something you knew would make death's heart stop.

"if you want me, then find me in the ashes."

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dadsbongos · 5 months

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perfect blue - s.gojo

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection ... warnings - post-star plasma vessel arc (+minor spoilers), sad gojo :( word count - 1.1 K / rating - PG

Satoru lets the water roll down his back. The warmth grounds him. It lets him forget how chilly the nighttime air will be as soon as he shuts off the pipe. Lets him really close his eyes and take his time absorbing each sensation. As the soap bubbles and pins of white hair flatten to his forehead, he treasures every second that his infinity can be lowered, and nobody can say anything about it.

He’s almost tempted to reach out and skim his fingers against the shiny tiles directly in front of him. Just to see if they’re cold. Would they make him shiver and yank his hand back? Or would they be heated and steamed? He wants to feel them. He doesn’t reach out.

Instead, he shuts the water off; the steel knob is neither heated nor cold under his palm. It simply exists. A shape forming around his fingers that he cannot sense for himself. His clothes aren’t soft, nor are they itchy, when he pulls them on. And he cannot feel the gentle breeze prattling over campus as he shuffles back to his and Suguru’s wing of the dorms.

On the way, he passes the girls’ wing. Shared by you and Shoko. And sometimes him, and sometimes Suguru. On the creaky wooden steps is a figure in black. A shadow cast across the hunched form, drenching it in darkness. A bump rises from the pathetic lump, white sclera with frail red veins at the edges poking through the ink. Hands block the face. He knows exactly who it is.

“Thought you went to bed,” his hands are firm in his pockets, eyes hidden behind a velvet sleep mask.

Your hands tense from where they’re coddling your frosty skin, lowering slowly to clench around your bent knees with your chest leaning fully against the meat of your thighs. Your shoulders scrunch up towards your ears. He steps a little closer, observing through heightened sight how your nose crinkles as you think through every potential reply. Your lips form into a pitiful pout. Your eyes don’t rise to meet his porcelain face. You know there’s no point. He still wants you to try.

Satoru comes down beside you; the space between you both is thin. He’d make it even thinner if you asked. He wonders if you would even notice.

You breathe in, chest rising slowly. Your lips part, then close, then split again before you finally croak,

“I don’t think…”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I was meant to be a sorcerer.”

“Yeah.”

The way you let ghosts haunt you was particularly bad. He’d watched you pray for curses before; even downright mourning the mean-spirited things you’ve had to exorcize. He stopped asking back when you were first-years.

Something something they didn’t ask to be made something they’re wild animals something something.

He’s known since then that you would drop out.

“Can you help me tell Yaga?”

“Yeah.”

But that doesn’t mean he takes any pleasure in being right.

Not this time.

“Yaga will listen to you,” you murmur.

Because he’s the strongest. Normally, Satoru likes that: knowing he can’t be beaten anymore. Knowing he can harbor everyone that matters while protecting those that don’t. The only thing he could call a flaw is how differently his friends look at him. Not even Yaga scolds him the same. Infinity has made him something more powerful than they know what to do with.

He isn’t Satoru. He’s the strongest.

No longer a boy. Not humble enough to be a man.

“You’ll freeze out here, you know,” Satoru pulls the ends of his sleeves over his hands because Suguru once told him the way he didn’t react to the weather was unsettling.

“Whatever,” you dangle your head until it bumps against your knees, reaching over to swat your friend’s arm.

He laughs at you, standing up and bending his neck to give the illusion of two eyes meeting yours. You look up and feed into it before standing on your own, soon after leaning into Satoru’s chest with a groan. He knows, logically, that vibrations are sent through his oversized sleep shirt. He can’t feel them for himself, but he’s sure they ripple through the cloth. He can see the way the fabric craters around your heavy breath.

Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulders like he’s seen Suguru do. He rubs his hand over the plain of your back and rests his cheek against your head.

“Will you keep in touch?” you mutter against him.

“You know my number,” your body isn’t warm against him. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was leaning against a vending machine. He’s so tall he can lean against the dusty top and watch the tops of his friends’ heads float around below. He’s so tall he could pick them all up - pack them in his pockets - take them anywhere he wants.

But he keeps growing.

His eyes are open. Your head is a ball against his chest. A ball he could take in his palm and keep for himself. He could swallow it down like Suguru with his curses. Hot in his belly. Packed away.

One day, he may be too tall to reach you all.

“Yeah, yeah,” your arms tense like you’re squeezing, not that he feels it, “Just making sure you don’t forget about me…”

Suguru has lost weight and won't tell Satoru why.

Shoko's smoking has gotten even worse, and she refuses to acknowledge it.

“I’d never.”

You and Suguru and Shoko are sitting around the vending machines on your own now. Satoru’s so high up his feet don’t touch the ground. He can’t feel your arms around his waist.

“Hmph,” slowly, you pull away. He wonders if you feel warmth from his body. If there’s an illusion of his soft skin and beating heart. If you still find something human beneath his hidden eyes, “I guess I should get to bed,” you look back at the old, crackling steps, “You’re busy tomorrow, right?”

“Shouldn’t take too long,” he wishes that was the assumption you made instead.

The ghost of Riko still clings to the gates he wanders under for every mission.

But the ghosts of his friends - far, far under his feet that don’t touch the ground - are worse. How he can almost imagine feeling the impacts of you and Suguru and Shoko’s writhing arms. How he could palm yours and Shoko’s heads like little balls, roll the both of you up and swallow you down and take you anywhere he wanted. Maybe except the beaches of Okinawa.

He wishes he could ball Suguru up, too. But Suguru’s different now. Like Satoru is.

Suguru has bags under his eyes and won't tell Satoru why.

Satoru tilts his head up as you climb the short steps back to your dorm, pretending to watch through the material of his sleep mask - the softness of which, he cannot feel against his face.

in honor of fuckhead’s birthday he’ll get posted first 🙂 for a character he hates, gege really made gojo the most interesting lmao

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk movie marathon event

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antiaure · 3 months

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One of these nights

characters: geto x reader (gn) - star plasma vessel arc S2 SPOILERS

synopsis: an angsty passage in which i take you through a typical night after you have suffered the traumatic incident of witnessing haibara’s death

cw: slight gore? its the same level of jjk gore, slight graphic description of what a curse looks like, not proofread sorryy this took me 2hrs!

It was like this every night.

Everyone would finish up their dinner for the day and wrap up their conversations before bidding their friends goodnight. They'd go home to their dorms and let their bodies melt into the night, dissolving into sleep.

The first part of the nighttime routine was fine for you, you could pretty much eat your food and enjoy the company of your 3 best friends. But when all was said and done and you dragged your way back to your dorm sullenly, you wouldn't sleep. Never again.

Because upon sleeping the scene would replay again and each night it got more vivid, you could hear the sounds too.

It was a special grade for sure, unregistered, yet still a special grade. Its body was designed in a way that it was covered in a grotesque plethora of holes that would ooze with tentacles if it so wished to capture its victims. Each tentacle had spikes and so when you saw the spikes wrap around Haibara you froze. It didn't even take long for him to let out piercing shrieks and so again you froze. If you fought you'd die, if you run he'd die, when you guys came you watched people die and so you froze.

Are teenagers supposed to live this way?

You lifted your body up from your soft futon upon feeling a solitary tear trail down your face. You'd only noticed you were really crying when you tasted the salt on your tongue. When you looked down you eventually noticed the goosebumps that swelled all over your arms and the chills that swooped over your body as if there was a gust that travelled within your blood. You gently tiptoed to your door.

Everyone is sound asleep right now.

The moon seemed to be glazing as brightly as she could today and the beams penetrated into your room. It's not sight someone should be familiar with as the night was meant to be slept through, not something to observe.

But you knew you weren't the only person like this and it calmed you.

"If you don't get your full 10 hours of beauty sleep, you'll never be as strong as me, (Y/N)!" Satoru exclaimed, poking his tongue out at you playfully as he was walking by Suguru whom was right beside you. At this, Suguru jerked his head straight in your direction. Satoru knew what he was doing. He knew that he couldn't help you and had to make Suguru help you. Because only he could do something.

Only he.

"What is this about?" Suguru asked, stopping in his tracks. You stopped too and let out a soft sigh. You both allowed Shoko and Satoru to head on, back to their dorms. You bit your lip in hesitation before deciding how to reply.

"He's just being dramatic. 8 hours of sleep works just the same, no?" You smiled up at him, praying he'd drop the topic. It's not as if you were afraid of opening up, you just didn't want to be a burden especially to him. You knew what he was going through himself, why did you have to be included in the equation?

"It didn't sound like he meant 8, (Y/N)," Suguru sighed. Why did he worry about you more than himself?

"7 and a half?"

"I'm saying this because you always tell me how you can hear how strongly the wind howls when its nighttime and everyone's quiet," he started, "and how it freaks you out." He's giving you that stern look again and you didn't want him to. The same look he gave you when you accidentally let it slip out that you would always go outside to play with snow forgetting to put on a jacket or scarf. You didn't want him to fret over you when he was losing himself. He was one to talk because you knew he always told you how each night the moon shines with various intensities and how beautiful it looked. You knew he was one to talk because he told you that the spark that blessed the moon matched the spark of your very own eyes and he softly admitted that he has only ever seen the beauty of the world when looking into your eyes. You didn't know what he meant, whether he loved you too or not, but you knew that you loved what he said.

And you also knew that just like you, he knew what went on deep into the night and was suffering just as much as you.

So you tiptoed straight to his dorm but paused at the door. Would you be disturbing him? Would he let you in?

"Suguru..." You whispered as you gently knocked on his door. You jumped back in surprise as the door whipped open before you could deliver a second knock.

He must've been at the door already.

"I..." he began, "I wanted to find you. But I didn't want to wake you up." You look up at him in shock. His raven tresses fell down against his shoulders and he wore a tight, long sleeved, black top with simple shorts for the night. It was his eyes, his sly, sharp eyes that you cared about now because in those eyes was the liquid drop of desperation and yearning. Yearning for you. When he saw the tears continue to stream down your cheeks as you walked towards him, he knew no more words needed to be said. He gently grasped your hand and led him deeper into his dorm, closing the door behind him. He sat you down on his bed and he sat right next to you.

"I can't sleep anymore, Suguru," you mumbled and more tears fell.

He wiped those tears with the smooth thumb of his right hand.

"I'm scared that if I do, I'll see it again. I'm tired but I'm afraid of sleeping," you cried and even more tears fell.

He wiped those tears with the top of his index finger.

"Why does it have to be us?" You asked. Whether it was a question to him or the air around you, you didn't know so you weren't surprised when he spoke without answering your question.

"I wanted to find you tonight because I wanted you to see it for yourself. Look how beautiful the moon is. A celestial pearl, never-ending glow. I never took notice of it until we started high school," he was distracting you, prompting you to look at the moon and abandon your fears. When you looked you saw a floating fish appear in front of you, following your eyes where it went. It was a pretty looking curse he had summoned for you, distracting you again.

He took note at how you'd stopped trembling where you sat and how he didn't need to wipe tears from your pretty eyes anymore.

"So many things will happen to us when we grow. It'll be good, it'll be bad, it'll be ugly. But there's nothing to be afraid of or feel guilty for. If it hasn't changed the beauty of the world around us, like the moon, then the pain will pass," he whispered, wrapping an arm around your head and pulling it directly to his chest.

His heart was beating rapidly, much like yours.

He continued, "You won't see it again, (Y/N). And even from now, with the new world I'll create, you won't experience anything like that again." He muttered this as he stroked your head and back and shoulders.

Inevitably you succumbed to sleep and instead of a nightmare you saw nothing. You were at peace. You barely got a chance to question his own eyebags, whether or not he had slept himself or why he kept mentioning this new world.

But you were grateful. That each and every night you'd come with tears pouring down your face, despite you wanting to avoid burdening him, he'd let you in. It was just like this every night, crying, hesitating if he'd let you in again, letting you melt into his arms.

So who could blame you when you lost your mind when he'd left? You pledged that one of these nights, you'd find him again. Whether he loved you like you loved him or not, whether you agreed with his new ideals or not, you needed him.

And you hoped it was just as much as he needed you.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst #geto angst #geto suguru x you #geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk x reader #gn reader #angst

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armoredtitanmistress · 6 months

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𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙦𝙪𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 | ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ| first times (18+ MDNI)

pairings: toji fushiguro x gojo!reader, toji zenin x gojo!reader

summary: the first time you were close enough to see the stars.

tags/genre: toji x gojo!reader, gojo’s older sister, pre-star plasma vessel arc/star plasma vessel arc, Shiu Kong cameo, suggestive language (thanks to Toji, of course), explicit language, SMUT (if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read this), symbolism (?), satoru being a little brat (are we surprised?), sibling bonding, strangers to friends to ?, fluff, 2nd person point of view, the first person point of view switches are intentional!

warnings: 8.5k word count, rated M (18+) for language and sexual scenes, male masturbation, allusion to female masturbation, vaginal sex, male dom, fem sub, virginity kink (if you squint), praise kink, breath play, brat themes (barely), handjob (fingering), oral (fem rec.), teasing (this is toji were are talking about), sweet talk, dirty talk, pet names (doll and pretty girl are the extent of it), semi-edging, missionary, safe-sex (they used a condom), titty sucking.

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Your first time was in the garden underneath the blazing lights of the stars and the judgmental gaze of the moon with the man you loved most.

That’s how you retold it to me when I became a teenager and told you I was interested in dating. You stretched the importance of communication in a relationship. Your exact words were, “Make sure they know it’s a relationship! A lot of people assume things! Oh, and use protection!”

But that wasn’t the truth. At least, not the way that Yuki told me about it.

You lost it in a dingy apartment in Shinjuku with the night sky hardly peaking through the openings of the blinds. The man you lost it to, well, I can’t speak on that.

He was an impatiently patient man. He had texted you his address soon after your date and added a few suggestive words to truly hone in on his desire to see you again but under an unrestrained environment. He left it at that and let the waiting game begin. His mind was filled with the chances of winning but in a small subsection (that’s as much as he’d ever admit to a living soul) of all that, he questioned what you’d be doing in your part of your world.

He would be lying if he didn’t have you as a constant in his mind since that day; to be more specific, your body had been getting him hard at just the thought of it. The silhouette of your body in the dress alone would have left an impactful impression on him but the opportunity to see you nearly naked and have the images he had fantasized about be confirmed.

He envisioned you stuck in a circle of Elders dictating the state of their society and you idly listening in. They’d mention your role in their hierarchy as the face of the “New Era” and implant their belief systems into you through innuendos. You’d play the attentive archetype but secretly rather be in your garden or seeing that you enjoy spending time with your sibling, you’d think about taking Satoru to eat at his favorite place because who were you without trying to appease someone who wasn’t yourself?

He also foresaw that after all of your tasks, you’d decompress in your garden. You’d be trying to do your daily routine of inspecting for weeds and checking what didn’t and did need watering. In between that routine, you’d somehow get reminded of him while taking in his failed attempt of carving out a snake in one of the hedges due to his reckless craftsmanship. You’d stifle a smile but you and those petunias that circled the surrounding area knew that you found amusement in it and though in the moment you cursed him to hell for trying to create something so hideous you never urged him to fix it.

Afterward, you’d get frustrated thinking about him and believe that the frustration that needs to be released is through training. You’d have no one around to train with and take out your frustrations on the nearby trees surrounding the training ground. After attempting to release variations of Red and Blue on the trees you’d come to grow even more frustrated at your countless failed attempts at being able to use it continuously. So you’d switch the practice to something you were good at, fighting close range. This would need the help of a helpless punching bag and you’d try to exhaust all of your frustrations in a concoction of varying different punches and kicks.

You’d take a shower to wash away the incessant thoughts of his presence. Your hands would massage in the shampoo to provide relief but it would remind you of the times he’d brush through your hair to find a strand to tug on. A tug, just one tug. That’s what you’d start with when you tug on one of your white strands. It wouldn’t feel the same as when he’d do it and that notion would certainly irk you. You’d continue your routine of washing your body but you’d make the mistake of closing your eyes when you brushed over your pebbled nipples. Curiously you’d grope them with the image of his exposed body in the pond cemented into the forefront of your mind making it easy to imagine his hands instead of your own. The hand that wasn’t busy with your breast would wander down to give attention to your needy clit that had been giving you clues as to what the target of your frustration had been.

This is the scenario that Toji found himself jerking off to late at night in his bedroom after fighting the urge to take home a woman from the bar he had been at. He cursed you for this. If you hadn’t made the sole rule be not fucking anyone else, he’d be having his dick blown right now. You’d have no problem with that rule. That rule was a test and Toji was one boner away from breaking it.

It was pathetic how he was holding out for someone who he hadn’t even felt yet.

It had been a few days since he had last seen you and his body was not reacting to it well. He thought you would’ve been crawling to him by now. He pumped his shaft faster in frustration that the scenario he had imagined wasn’t even a probability for you. You had gone your whole life without sex, what would be a couple of days, weeks, or months added on of not experiencing it?

He let out a few pumps before he came and let his other arm fall over his eyes while he tried to even out his breath. The pleasure that should’ve come along with it was nonexistent. Instead, he made the mistake of letting his mind flash an image of you again.

He would spend the rest of his night restless and sore.

The next day he had to clear his mind through means that keep him sane.

There he was in a gambling pub in Shinjuku trying to make use of his money by trying to expand on it. It was also his unhealthy way of killing time as he anticipated your call. His gambling feats were enough to forget about all the other times he had lost money. He had placed his bet for the horse race that was the gamble of the day and ordered himself some takoyaki. The pub was situated on the outskirts of Shinjuku and was a hole-in-the-wall place. The pub was littered with all walks of life – a salaryman that is using gambling as a salvation, a group of construction workers who were there for lunch and had bet the lowest amount possible as they treated it as a game, a pair of middle-aged men that didn’t want to go home to their wife and kids, and then the majority were questionable characters that were stereotypical to the environment.

If Toji were to choose between the aforementioned list he would say he was a mix of them all. This information was based on observation and had a high possibility of it all being false but Toji didn’t plan on finding out. No, he is going to take his profiling as gospel and allow himself to be right. They were the least of his worries after all. The horse he bet on was advancing and the money he put in looked like a sure win.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the door to the pub open and knew from the suit and the stench of cigarettes that approached him who it was. Sipping on his fountain drink of choice, he huffs out a laugh and announces, “Was under the impression you were embarrassed by me, Shiu. You always restrict our meetings to over the phone so what’s with the sudden appearance?”

Shiu Kong, a 24-year-old Korean national and former detective somehow found himself in Japan as a handler for mercenaries. Toji met him at a pub similar to the one they were in 2 years ago but not by coincidence. Shiu had seen him a few times before approaching him but observing him get into a bar fight and his blatant disregard for others made him approach him with the offer of becoming a mercenary.

“Unfortunately, you’re hard to miss.” The man lamented referring to the window that was directly in front of him and the man’s large silhouette. He walked closer to the table and spectated the horse race that was projected on the screen and made his bet with himself that Toji would lose. The gamble was that if Toji lost he’d reward himself another pack of parliaments and if he won he’d quit smoking.

“Plenty embarrassed of you but I just happened to be in the area and saw you through the window. Decided to cut out the middleman and fill you in on the job in person.” He explained while he searched one of his pockets for a staple of his image, a cigarette, and a lighter. Digging out both he exhaled, “Might find some entertainment watching you blow a shit load of cash in one go.”

“You’re wasting your time. I might not even bother with the job after I win this one. Bet 8 million on that Bronco and heard from one of the guys here that he’s a sure win.” Toji assured, offhandedly directing his chopsticks toward a sleazy-looking bald man across the pub.

“Yeah?” he asked in disbelief as he pulled out a seat next to his delusional client, “Should you be taking advice from a man who’s betting against you?”

No, he shouldn’t but he could always leave the man a generous message if he did decide to play dirty. Regardless if the man had “reassured” him that his bet was solid, Toji felt confident in his bet. He contributed his confidence to the outlook of his week. He was hoping that the biggest star in the sky was as much in favor of him as it had been on that date. Again, your image manifested in his mind causing him to try to remain neutral and adjust himself discreetly under the table.

He returned his gaze to the TV while he was picking up his set of chopsticks when he saw the announcement that his horse had lost. Out of frustration, he had cracked them with the emotion that had manifested in the force he held them in. He stood up from his seat and scoured the pub for the man with his eyes. He focused his eyes on where had been earlier and saw only the food he had been eating left.

“Coward”, he mumbled as he plopped himself back on the stool and pulled out another set of chopsticks from the canister on the table, he grumbled, “How much is it and when do I have to do it?”

Puffing out the smoke, he taunted thoroughly amused with how the situation worked out for him, “Trying to make another quick buck after this? Employers are going to start paying you a salary with how frequently you are asking for jobs.”

“If it’s anything short of a million they can shove that salary offer up their ass. I have to force you to negotiate to even get half the amount the jobs are worth.” He swallowed and drank from the fountain drink that he had refilled multiple times with no plans of paying the refill fee. His most recent job payout was a rare one, usually, the payout for his jobs is between 10-50k. The employers never understood the value or cost of a life. Why would they? If they were never the ones doing it. Rich people had money to blow but not the faintest idea what it’s worth was.

Pulling a seat next to the enormous man, he lets a chuckle escape, “God forbid, a 22-year-old survives on a million a month. Your gambling is going to leave you on the street eventually and don’t expect as your handler I’m going to offer you my house to crash at.”

Plopping another takoyaki ball in his mouth as he watched the horse he betted on in the lead, he jauntily answered, “As long as the jobs roll in we are both in the clear of that ever happening.”

Call Toji any negative adjective (trust, I have some of my own) but he was diligent with his work. He was the highest mercenary in demand in all of Japan with how efficient he was with his commissions. Employers appreciated that all he asked was the lump sum and the general details of the job. Morals were not a driving force in any particular aspect of being a mercenary, at least that’s how Toji perceived his career path.

Shiu nodded and vaguely detailed, “All these people want is for it to be done by the end of the month.”

While Shiu began to debrief him vaguely on the job, Toji felt a beep in the pocket of his jeans. His contact list consisted of the man in front of him and the woman he had eagerly anticipated to be inside of. He could’ve groaned out of relief at this revelation. From briefly listening in on the job description, it seemed like a pretty standard job.

Finishing the last sips of his drink and chewing on the last ball of takoyaki, he grunted as he stood up from his seat, “Got it. Forward me the details in a text or something.”

“You’ve been in a rush the past couple of days, Zenin. What other unhealthy habit of yours have you been indulging in?” He asked to take a draw from his cigarette while stuffing one of his hands in his pocket. With how long they’ve known each other, he’s hardly ever seen him rushing to places. Toji lived on the ideology that he had all the time in the world and he didn’t care much for how he spent it. Now comparing this ideology with how he had been acting lately, the former detective’s interest had peaked.

“Nothing that you would care about.” He replied as he put on his jacket. He threw some cash on the table and patted his handlers back as he made his way out of the pub.

“Thanks for that restaurant recommendation, by the way.”

Shiu watched as his associate walked through the doors of the establishment and smirked to himself. Getting up from his seat and throwing away the trash Toji had left behind he makes his way to a nearby smoke shop with his head held high and mentally thanking him for his misgivings.

No, thank you, Shiu thought as he handed the cashier his money.

———————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------

Weeds are grown out.

[image attached]

The text alongside him reaching the garden to see you fully clothed, in baggy jeans and an even bigger knit sweater with an annoyingly yellow garden apron on top of it all with that brat of a brother beside you, well, color his disappointment.

Irony befell him as he found himself going back to his old routine of trying to go unnoticed by you guys. He must’ve been rusty because it didn’t take long for your blue eyes to find his hiding spot. You nodded your head in acknowledgment before turning your attention back to the miniature version of you that was inches away from terrorizing a flower. If he hadn’t known he was your brother, he could have passed off Satoru as your son.

You slapped his wrist away causing him to yelp in pain and sheepishly grin at being caught. You looked at him unamused and demonstrated how to properly pluck a flower.

“You are too rough on such delicate organisms, ‘Toru. You have to treat them with care and love–” He brought his hands up mimicking your speech and guessed the next words you were going to say, “Because they feel it too blah blah blah.”

He stared boredly at how you plucked the flower from the stem rather than from the root and didn’t notice how your method was any better than his.

“Feel stuff, my butt. Why care for something so weak? They don’t even do anything.” You heard him mutter and were growing irritated at his attitude. Normally, you’d hear complaints about his attitude from his retainer and any other unlucky person who crossed his path. You’d reprimand him but his behavior never was bad when he was with you. He’d be whiny and pouty but that was the extent of it. This was unusual.

“Why do you care for the teddy bear that I gifted you? Why do you care for the toys that you play with?” You asked, placing the flower you had plucked in the pocket of your apron.

He answered as if it were obvious, “Because you got them for me.”

“But they don’t do anything, so what value do they bring you? You wouldn’t care if I threw them away, right?”

“I wouldn’t care. You could buy me new ones.” This kid was audacious as he stared up at you with the cheekiest grin.

This kid knew his strengths and Toji could applaud you for resisting the urge to enforce corporal punishment.

You scoffed, “I would? What gave you that idea?”

Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled into the embrace he had created. “Look at this face! You can’t say no to this!” He cooed, shining his eyes to yours that dulled in comparison.

You shook your head with a laugh, warming up to his antics, before creating some distance. You plucked two flowers out from nearby; hyssop and heliotrope.

Crouching down to his height, you explained, “You don’t know the meaning now but I hope once you find this interesting enough that one day you’ll understand.” You threaded the flowers in the crevice behind his ear, brushing a few strands of hair out of the way to properly display them.

Smiling at your work, you confessed, “You are annoyingly cute and sometimes I wish you didn’t know that but that’s not why I buy you those things.”

Pointing to the flowers behind his ear you said, “Those flowers are important because they have meaning.”

“Huh?” Your brother's face contorted in visual confusion, unable to grasp the point you were trying to make.

“Satoru means “to know.” Your name has meaning and lets people know how to address you. It reveals to people the kind of person you are from that alone. It’s what makes you a person.” You recall fondly on the day you were given the honor to name him. Your parents were so preoccupied with the revelation of birthing a user of the Six Eyes that they had forgotten to give him a name. The responsibility then had been passed to you. His birth came before you had thought of baby names for your hypothetical future child but keeping in line with your unoriginality Satoru was the first name to come to mind.

“These flowers may look weak based on appearance but many hold toxic properties that could kill something based on impact or consumption. Assuming that something is weak makes you the weak one in a situation and inevitably leaves you at a greater disadvantage. It could lead to your death.” You explained as you pointed to a patch of lantana, bitter nightshade, and mountain laurel; flowers with beautiful exteriors but poisonous compositions.

Satoru groaned but made no effort to take out the flowers you’d given him, “If I wanted a life lesson, I would’ve stayed with Yoichi.”

Being compared to his retainer made you recoil. You hadn’t meant to turn a sibling bonding day into a day of lectures. The world after the ignorant closings of childhood is nothing but continuous put-to-use life lessons. You’d rather give him insight into his destiny as the strongest than further inflate the propagated ego that the masses had given the boy that convinced him that he was invincible.

“You are welcome to go back to him if this bores you so much.” You are met with silence and that only elicits a sigh from you. You announced, “Let’s call it a day. I have some matters to attend to and Yoichi is most likely searching for you.”

In truth Satoru wasn’t bored, he just wanted you to spend time with him. Without the lessons, without being at home, and without anything or anyone else to worry about. You were his moral compass and anything you’d say he’d follow. His attitude was directed toward the retainer he had been trying to dodge all day

Satoru’s voice called out behind you, “It’s not boring! Tell me about those! They look kinda funky, what do they mean?”

You turned around to see him pointing at a patch of weeds. You giggled walking over to him and ruffling his hair, “Those are called weeds and they mean that I need to pluck them out in order for the other flowers to stay alive.”

“Can I help you with that one day?” He asked, unknowingly robbing Toji of his side hustle.

“Of course.” You smiled when you leaned down to place a kiss on his head, “You can go ahead of me. I’ll see you later.”

“Be nice to Yoichi!”

“I’m always nice!” He stuck his tongue out as he ran off passing the tree Toji had been hiding behind. He walked out once the kid was outside of earshot and made his way to an expectant you.

“To what do I owe the displeasure, Zenin?” You asked, patting your hands onto your apron.

Gesturing his head to the fading body of your body, he confronts, “Was here to clock in but instead saw you interviewing someone for my job. Did I mention that I work better alone?”

You laughed, “Guessing that I was interviewing for a new worker rather than a replacement is audacious. I’ve been giving you warnings about how you handled my hedges and you never seem to listen.”

“I express artistic freedom.” He shrugged, “What do they say? Art is in the eye of the beholder.”

You chuckled then teased.“As I’ve said time and time again, you need better eyes.”

Walking up the array of hedges that had been brutalized by Toji’s craftsmanship, you inquire, “Alright, what is this one supposed to be?”

What you had been pointing to were two hedges that you had thought looked like either a yin and yang figure or– actually, no that was your only guess. None of his pieces have ever looked easy to understand. You suppose he could make the argument that’s the point of art so instead of voicing that you let it remain a thought.

“Obviously that’s supposed to be a lion fighting a tiger.” He claimed with certainty.

You raised a brow, “They have stories?”

You didn’t think Toji had the capability to be creative or thoughtful. His life was based on thoughtless behavior, it was the basis of your friendship. Sure, the portrayal he was going for was violent but the thought did render you temporarily speechless. Thinking about it more, what kind of hobbies did Toji have? What kind of things does he like? Does he listen to music?

“You’ve said it yourself. Everything has meaning. Isn’t that what you were trying to tell that brat?” If you had been familiar with his bashful tells, you would’ve noticed how he refused to make eye contact with you when he answered and the tips of his ears went red.

“By the way, if that’s how you talk during sex too I might have to rethink our deal. Unless you're moaning during it then by all means continue.” He mocked, naturally reminding you of the agreement you had made almost a week ago that had been constantly replaying in your mind.

You rolled your eyes, feeling the incessant jabs at you today to be unfair, “You’d be able to get those sounds from me? I’d like to see you try.”

His hands found their respective places at each side of your waist, pulling your ass into the outline of his hardened member as he breathed into the shell of your ear, “You could find out. We still haven’t put the point of this deal to trial yet.”

“You’re vetoing my analogies during sex but that proves otherwise.” You rebuke, restraining the noise that wanted to come out from the impact. Remaining in his hold any longer, you would have let him take you right then and there. When you did get out of his touch, you heard him groan and felt the effects of it go straight to your core.

“I also remember mentioning that I don’t plan on losing it in the garden.” You calmly remind, trying hard to deny the throb in between your legs.

“I haven’t fucked anyone in a week. I’ve been maintaining my end of the deal. It’s now your turn to maintain yours. I was under the impression that you’d be one of the better pussy I’ve been in.” He said in annoyance, growing tired of your game.

You didn’t necessarily have any proof to prove that he had been lying but you also had no proof that he had been telling the truth. You shrugged, not understanding how that had anything to do with you, “Whether I am or not, that’ll be up to you to decide.”

“Yeah, and when is that gonna be? It’s been nearly a week, doll. My patience is running out.”

And it truly was. After jerking off to an imaginary scenario and sporting one to the thought of you, he could only endure so much. An ironic predicament for a man who has a Heavenly Pact that enhances his senses and his physical strength.

It must be your Gojo instincts because you felt pleasure in having something over the outcasted Zenin.

“Tomorrow. I’ll give myself to you tomorrow.” You stated, making it seem like a less than thought out decision when in actuality you had this decided from the moment you had sent that text.

“In the meantime, if you want to keep your job.” You handed him the hedge clippers, “Fix my hedges."

The rest of the time, it was a comfortable quiet with the noise of your collective pensive with the thoughts of tomorrow above all else.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The address in his text led you to a wear-for-tear apartment complex on the outskirts of Tokyo nearing Shinjuku. It was enveloped with nearby liquor stores, gambling pubs, drunkards, and arguing couples. It worried your driver to leave you alone in such a place so much that he had asked to wait for you out of concern for your safety but you waved him off without a second thought. The excuse you had used was that you were meeting up with an old colleague on work matters. He had been hesitant but he obeyed and drove off leaving you in front of the disarray. The environment is very well aligned with where you had imagined Toji would live. Given the amount of money that Toji was given in his jobs, he must’ve spent it all on a continuous streak of failed gambling bets and couldn’t afford to pay rent in a better place. You couldn’t even imagine the structure or the furniture he had in his apartment. You felt that it could have been the affluent possessions or black-and-white essentials.

You let those thoughts linger as you made your way up the flight of stairs to his apartment. Each step was louder and more concerning than the last. The noise of cars passing by and various sirens were heard clearly throughout the motel-style infrastructure of the apartment.

When you arrived at his door, you felt the reality of the situation sink in. Your virginity wasn’t something sacred to you. As a teenager, you weren’t interested in any guy that much to want to lose it to them. You wished you had caved and just lost it to one of the many guys Yuki had sent your way. Due to your high standards, you’ve landed yourself in a situation that was more than you bargained for. You’re stuck with the option of Toji Zenin, the embodiment of sex.

You let your knuckles graze the door believing if you left them there for a while it would give you the courage to knock. The meandering thoughts were pushed aside once you lifted your knuckles to knock and felt your stomach twisted up into knots. You vaguely heard thuds and things opening and closing from the interior and felt the knots in your stomach tighten.

He opened the door with relatively the same image that you had engraved in your mind; nothing but a towel around his neck and low hanging plaid red and black pajama pants that visibly displayed his defined v-line. Your blue eyes knew not to linger and went to search for his but found them fixated on your mouth. You’d have to address that habit of his eventually. You took that as your cue to speak.

“H-Hey.”

Pathetic, you thought to yourself. It had only been a few hours ago that you held the power in the situation. Seeing a preview and what you’d be seeing soon, you forfeited any semblance of power that you had left. Pushing your way through the door, you reiterate, “Where’s your bedroom?”

Entering his apartment, your suspicions of what it would look like were semi-confirmed. There were no luxurious items but it was filled with household essentials like a couch and TV. It was also barren of any personality aside from a bar cart that had looked to be untouched.

“Straight to the point? I appreciate taking into account how cruel you’ve been towards me.” He grinned at your flustered state.

“Shut up, asshat. I just want to get this over with.” You barked back, walking aimlessly in his apartment aiming to find the door that led to his bedroom.

“It’s the first door to the left. You can wait there for me. I’ll be out soon” He called out as he made his way back into the bathroom to continue his night routine that you undoubtedly disrupted.

You entered the bedroom and were surprised to find that it was cleaner than you had imagined it to be. Much like the living room, it only held the essential furniture needed to distinguish its purpose. After assessing the room for what it was, you situated yourself on the bed with your hands gripping the skirt of your kimono.

“You still have your clothes on?” You could hear the disappointment from his voice and as you turned to see him his face matched the tone of his voice. His body leaned against the doorframe, his appearance the same as it had been when he had opened the door.

You groaned, “At least try to pretend to not be disappointed.”

“You preach that speaking the truth is important to your brother but when I do it you draw the line.” He said, referring to the day you had acknowledged his existence for the first time. He sits next to you, leaving a good distance in between, but the scent of his shampoo is so intoxicating that he might as well have been millimeters away.

“For someone who partakes in sex as often as you do, you should know that talking about relatives beforehand is a serious turn-off and not a form of sex talk.” You chastised with no merit to your words.

He looked thoroughly unimpressed by your comment and rebuked it, “We haven’t even started and you’re already questioning my skills.”

The foundation of your knowledge of sex came from sources like porn and Yuki that were classified as the same; dramatized and romanticized. Another source was Toji but the thought of him having been with other women doesn’t entirely sit right with you at the moment.

“So how do you do this?” You asked, not entirely aware of how to initiate it.

He loathed verbal communication if it wasn’t necessary. He was a firm believer that people can understand from physical cues alone. Therefore, he used his movements as a response. One of his hands maneuvers its way to the small of your waist, pulling you to where your knees touch. Having you secured where he wanted you, he reached his vacant hand to cup the underside of your jaw and licked his lips before consuming yours. Similarly to the first kiss you shared at the park, it was short and sweet. He pulled away before you could even reciprocate finding your lips searching for him.

He smirked and guided, “We’ll start with this and then we can work your way up to it.”

Your lips hovering his and the scent of your strawberry chapstick lingering was not going to do it, he had to taste them again. So he did, working his mouth against yours and licking away the temptation of the strawberry chapstick. Unlike the first time, you had managed to catch on faster. You situated your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself but still felt unsteady. It wasn’t until you threaded your fingers into his hair that you felt secure.

He tugged on your lower lip to gain access but you weren’t one to back down easily. You weren’t the first to deny him and he had learned how to bypass brats like you. With his hand that had still been on the small of your back, he moved it lower to give your ass a quick tap causing you to gasp and for his tongue to claim your mouth.

Trying to win a battle of strength with Toji was a pathetic effort and after what felt like forever but was only a few seconds, you had given up on trying to win.

“What am I supposed to do?” You whispered in earnest but the delicacy in your voice had translated in his head to something sensual in his ear. He withheld the groan that was threatening to leave his throat and opted to busy himself by placing one of his palms on the underside of your jaw to have you facing him as he brushed pieces of hair from your face.

He brushed his lips over your own as he spoke breathlessly, “You don’t gotta do anything, doll.”

He kissed you one final time before descending towards the valley on your neck and collarbones. His impatience waned with each descending kiss he’d leave on your body. Some parts earn attention while other parts yearn for it. The marks he left left him satisfied until he encountered the hemline of your kimono blocking the visage of your breast.

“Sit up.” He instructed, helping guide you up while also loosening the obi from your waist in the process allowing your body to be exposed for him to see.

He had been complaining about you essentially blue balling him for over a week but he had no intention of having you work. Not tonight. Tonight was all about you and he was going to let you know that.

Understanding what he was trying to do, you attempted to cover yourself with the fabric with your face flushing in the process. However, your attempt to fall lackluster in execution with your breast is now enhanced by your crossed arms.

“Don’t just stare.” You muttered, suddenly feeling small – a feeling that did not come naturally to you.

“You’re just s’pretty. Hard not to.” The effects of his praise manifested differently, your upper half illuminating your cheeks in bright pink while the lower half hiding in your core.

Your pose and your expression had him experience a sexual high he had never been able to achieve with any other woman. A sculptor like Brancusi could feel,see, and anatomically understand your body but he could never be able to sculpt it in a manner that remained faithful to your essence.

He took hold of your clothes and tossed them in the same direction he had your panties. You were fully bare but unlike earlier, you felt a surge of confidence at his dark green eyes morphing away from its former greed hue.

“Come on, now’s not the time to get shy with me.” He laughed before latching his mouth onto your breast bringing out a moan that had yet to be released from you. His tongue lapped, swirled, and tugged on your nipple with expertise while his other hand replicated his tongue's movement effortlessly. You tried covering your mouth in an attempt to muffle the noises that were fighting to come out but Toji took quick notice and moved it to situate back into his terrain of hair..

“I wanna hear those sweet noises of yours, doll. Let them out. You can try covering up how I’m making you feel but I know.” He urged you on before taking the hand that had been toying with your nipple and using one of his fingers to hook onto your panties and move them aside to rub across your slit and in doing so pick up how wet you had become from just from touch. Your lips were sealed shut but your hips bucked against his touch, trying to catch the sensation again.

Slipping his fingers inside his mouth to suck up you up. He stuck his tongue out to give you a visual of his tongue churning on his finger. Pleased by your reaction, he kissed your lips in reward for your submission, permitting you to taste yourself. He mumbles in between kisses, “Your body makes it so obvious for me.”

“Do something.” You uttered between battered breaths.

He lowered himself between your thighs and raised your legs to rest on either side of his shoulder after he had skillfully taken off your panties in the process, tossing them aside without haste. Coming in contact with your pussy, he breathed haughtily against your folds. You had to have the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. It was dripping and anxiously awaiting his touch but he had to contain himself.

“Demanding me? To do what exactly?” He used his breath to an advantage, drawing in and out of the vicinity of your pussy but never too close or too far. His antics are the source of the shiver that overtook your body.

“Touch me.” You said in an obvious tone.

“Where? Here?” He asked coyly, grazing his tongue throughout your inner thigh barely reaching the meeting point of your thigh and your vagina. Deciding to be generous, he presses a kiss onto your swollen clit. You could’ve slapped yourself with the whimper you had let out.

You gritted out in between moans, knowing what he was doing, “Fuck you know where shit, you are such an asshole.”

He rolled his eyes at the nickname but decided that since it was your first time he should save the edging for another day.

Without warning, you feel a slow swirl on your clit before he commits to seeking refuge with his lips. He ate you out as if you contained ambrosia and the only way to fully attain it was by ruining you.

“You’ve got such a pretty clit, doll. Looks so cute and swollen.” He teased as he swirled a finger over it before giving it a little tug. You glanced down to see his hungry eyes drawn to your panting and moaning figure. You quickly looked away and he retracted his fingers from your clit at the same time. You whined out at the loss.

“Eyes on me.”

You couldn’t find yourself to disobey.

“Want you to remember this.” You heard him whisper in between sucks as he descended again. Occasionally he would groan into your cunt shocking you closer to an orgasm. The bed sheets weren’t even a contender for places to latch on. Your eyes were only on Toji. It was an automatic response to thread your fingers through his hair and guide his head closer to you.

His name is left broken on your lips while your orgasm is on his. He gave you a second to compose yourself before asking, “Think you can handle more?”

More? Before you could ask, you had your words caught in your throat.

“All that from just my mouth.” He lapped up everything that had been seeping out of you. “Need to prep you before you take the whole thing. Wanna see how much you can take when I add one in.” He murmurs to himself more than to you.

“Inflating your ego during sex, you’re such- fuck Toji!” You cut yourself off at his finger slotting inside your cunt without any resistance or warning.

“So loose. I’m sure you can take one more.” He mumbled against your ear.

He pumped in and out while his mouth met yours allowing you to taste yourself. Originally the thought had repulsed you but with the assaults on your cunt and an impending second orgasm, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The kiss was sloppy. You would break away each time his fingers hit the right spot.

Toji was right. Sex was a stress reliever. You couldn’t think of the documents on your desk that you needed to sign, missions that you had lined up for the week, or the brunch your mother had asked you to attend. That damn brunch was the least of your concerns. None of that mattered, not with how his fingers were slamming in and out of you at an inhuman pace that no other man could achieve.

You felt that you were close but so did he. His lips left yours at the same time his fingers did and you anxiously anticipated their return but they never came. You turned to face him but noticed him get up off the bed.

“Why’d you stop?” You asked panting, lifting yourself using your elbows. Had you done something wrong? Before you could ask, he lifted a hand signaling you to remain still.

“Like I said, I was prepping you. Want you to cum on something else.” He informed, swiftly removing his remaining clothes leaving him fully nude.

Your imagination didn’t do it justice. At this point, nothing you had envisioned this to go to had been beyond your comprehension. That night at the pond was proving to be a preview. You had no dicks for reference to go off but based on the assumption you knew he was beyond average in girth and length. It had to be his Heavenly Pact at work because no normal human would be able to have been blessed like that.

“Are you ready? We can stop.” He asked with a kindness you had never thought was possible from a mercenary. His eyes remind you of an exploding nebula. You had never seen that sort of emotion from him in all your years of knowing him.

Momentarily shocked you stared gapingly at him and you shook your head.

“I want you.” You softly whispered, though it had sounded different in your head.Not given enough time to backtrack on the implications, your body had already been lifted and settled onto a few pillows with your back against the headboard of his bed.

Those were the words he imagined you saying when he’d touch himself to the thought of you. When he needed something to get him off while he was with a woman who wasn’t doing it for him.

Staring at your figure, you were stunning. Pieces of your white hair sticking to your body due to the sweat that could mimic a blizzard. Your boobs moving to an unsteady and erratic rhythm, Your thighs rubbing against each other to release tension, Then those eyes of yours that might as well have been the six-eyes with how alluring they were, tempting him to dare to ruin you, taint you, take you.

“What.” You mumble, suddenly the confidence you had felt earlier converting into self-conscious.

He places his thighs on either side of your legs, hovering over you before closing in on your face. “Been waiting years for you to admit that. Give me some time to soak it in.” He breathes, stealing another breathtaking kiss.

“I’m here now. Do what you want.” Your words draw out when he departs from the kiss.

He shook his head while he fluttered his lips against your jaw, “You’re not ready for what I want. You’d fall right apart.”

Your left arm latched onto his shoulder to keep him close and hummed at his words.

“Try me.”

You felt the chuckle he let out on your collarbone, “You don’t ride a stallion without riding a mule first.”

“You do if you dare to try.”

He stopped his advances and again laughed at your audacity before snaking a hand behind you to give your ass a playful tap.

“Offering to ride me? I’m sure you could but that’s gonna have to be another day.” He promised and you were inclined to believe without any further information.

You weren’t thinking. You couldn’t think knowing that his dick was so close but so far away. That you were about to lose it to Toji, the man who has been in your life for as long as you’ve been sentient.

He must’ve sensed your nerves because he smiled–not one of those condescending Zenin smiles– but a smile that was unique to Toji.

“I got you.” He assured you with words but his green eyes were the first thing to register in your mind.

He reached to the side of his nightstand and unwrapped the condom wrapper. He saw you watching with curious eyes.

“Wanna put it on?” He asked and you could only nod as he handed over to you.

It seemed pretty straightforward. All you had to do was slip it on him. As you were about to make contact with his dick was when you realized what you were doing but let the thoughts die out. As you slipped it on fully, you let your fingers graze the part of his dick that wasn’t covered by the condom out of curiosity. His hand caught your wrist and you thought you did something wrong.

“Not today.” He tried to remain assertive but his wavering voice begged to differ. However, you didn’t notice.

“I’m going to put it in.” He said and you nodded. When he did you could only describe the sensation as foreign – more foreign than a kiss but not unwelcome— and you felt that you’d never hold leverage over him again.

This was too intimate. He was handling you with the care of a flower. Ironic, given how he went about tending your garden. You had hardly been allowed to do anything because he wouldn’t let you. He was partly in, with a little more than half of his dick inside of you, inching in slowly so as to not overwhelm you.

“You can move.”

“With pleasure.” He started off slow like he did when he first put it in – in the haze of your impatience you’d consider it a snail's pace– however, the way he rolled his hips into yours to make up for it. You observed as his eyes found a new fixation on his dick disappearing into your cunt. No matter how he tried to make up for it, you needed more and you were passed not wanting to beg.

“Faster, you can go faster.” You encouraged and he didn’t need to be told twice. He wrapped your legs around his waist and the angle immediately caused a knot to form in your stomach. The snail's pace was overtaken by a speed that you could compare to a jackrabbit. Your jaw lolled and began moaning and yelling profanities mixed in with his name that hazed out in your head to sound the same. It must’ve been a mantra because he joined in too.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin good, pretty girl. Takin’ it so well.” He praised before groaning out your name causing you to clench around him involuntarily.

“Fu-uck you’re killing me here, doll. How does it feel getting ruined by me.” He growled, drawing out of you before ramming back into your cunt. The crescendo of your bodies resonating through the walls.

“S’good! S’good!” He laughed at how gone you were. You were his dream incarnate. As he pushed into you, he let the thought of the long wait you put him through be worth it.

He kissed you, branding your hips with his hands and using the momentum to rut further into you, as he said, “Want to feel you cum. I know you got one more in ya, pretty.” In such a short amount of time, he had already memorized your body’s cues.

You gasped at the increase in pace and knew that you would be reaching the end soon.

“To-oh-ji! Toji! Toji! Fuuh-uck!” You had officially lost all sense. Your hips rutted into his, a failed attempt at matching his pace.

His mouth latched onto your boob, sucking harshing on your nipple, and occasionally biting onto it. Rather than giving your other boob the same attention, his other hand traveled into your valley and made a home abusing your clit that was pulsing from the overstimulation.

“I’m close.” You warned and his actions weren’t what unraveled you. It was his words.

Unlatching from your boob, he smirked against your lips, “You're there, baby. Let go.”

His blinds were closed all the way, not allowing a speck of light to permeate through the bedroom but you were seeing stars. You may have seen Cassiopeia amongst them all.

His mouth caught your moans but his pace didn’t relent just yet. His movements were not as precise as they had been, stuttering between strokes, and he had begun to be vocal. He was near his end and you had to repay him for his work by clenching around his dick and tugging at his hair.

He rammed into your cunt one final time before you felt his cum spurt inside you. This is by far the most he had cum in– no, he had never cum this much before. His body fell slack onto yours and for a while, all you felt was your chest beat in unison. He stayed inside you for a while and when he did eventually take it out, you felt your cunt clench on air at the loss.

He tossed the condom into the nearby trash can and let himself fall beside yours. It was awkward for a while but you knew that you needed to leave. You started to get up from the bed, preparing to find your clothes that had been scattered throughout the room, his hand lying on top.

Turning to face him, you saw his pose embodied a sculpture of Hercules to a tee– naked with his sheet draping over the parts you had met a few minutes prior.

“You don’t have to leave” If you didn’t know any better you could confuse his tone with his pleading.

“It’s already so late and my driver will definitely grow suspicious if I don’t return home tonight.”

“You had a driver bring you here?” He asked unimpressed. For someone as calculated as you, the rookie mistake of having a driver bring you here was laughable.

“How else would I get here? You didn’t necessarily offer me a ride.” You reminded him while you found your phone and texted your driver

“No but you did.” He smirked and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Consider the offer off the table.” Though it was a threat, he found the pout etched on your face too cute to hold your threat at a value.

You made your way out of the apartment complex to see your driver waiting for you.

“I surmise the meeting went well.” Your driver asked as he opened the door for you.

Meeting? What meeting? Oh, that.

Clearing your throat, you ascertain, “I don’t believe those matters concern you.”

“R-Right, my apologies ma’am.” He stuttered out. Once you had entered the car, he dashed towards the driver's seat. You saw him stumble over his feet and wipe a few nervous sweat beads from his forehead before entering the car himself.

Your hand was hovering over the privacy divider button when he spoke again.

“Your mother asked me to remind you of the brunch you have tomorrow with your father.”

Your heart froze.

“Noted. Can we get going now? I’d like to wake up on time tomorrow.” You assumed he had replied after but could never know for certain because you had already drawn the divider up.

Staring out of the window you notice a light turned on inside of the apartment and a shadow briefly before it was overtaken by the bustling streets of Shinjuku.

It was odd to stare at the stars knowing how they felt for the first time.

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

a/n: sorry for the two month break! honestly had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. I've never written smut before so I hope I was able to do the genre and toji justice. Also, after seeing Toji in the anime recently (do not speak to me about the Megumi scene or I will cry) felt like I missed writing about my man.

italicized references:

cassiopeia: a queen in ancient Greek mythology and constellation.

hyssop and heliotrope: flowers

tag list:

@cococola-cocaine @justtnat @softvgold @missroro

comment to let me know if you want to join the tag list for future updates!

make sure to reblog, like, and comment! they really help me know what you guys like and don't like!

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yuesya · 9 months

Note

Hi! I've read some of your QAs and i really like some of them, especially the one where Kenjaku possessed Shiki's body and one where Shiki is older than Satoru. Which made me think, what if in a different timeline, Satoru's and Shiki's age were the same? How much it would change their dynamic?

I'm swooning over all of the possibilities, there's just so many, like will Shiki attend Jujutsu school in Tokyo (same class as Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru) or in Kyoto? Imo I don't think it will be wise foe Gojo clan to allow their two most prized and blessed sorcerer in same school, but idk. With an older and a more mature Shiki, I wonder if she can caught all the red flags Geto flashed after Star Vessel arc, or maybe in this verse Riko Amanai merged successfully with Tengen because Shiki interference? So many possibilities 😭

Glad you enjoyed some of the AU ramblings going on!

In an AU where Shiki is the same age as Satoru... it would be obvious from the get-go that Satoru is the one with Six Eyes and Shiki isn't. And Shiki would always be 'second-best' to Satoru in practically all things, growing up together. As you might imagine, this breeds conflict between them, to the point where it's even more severe than the AU where Shiki is older, because this time the two are actively 'competing' with each other.

Satoru is arrogant, and Shiki is cruel. The two of them Do Not Get Along with each other, and neither is particularly fond of the other... for all that they begrudgingly acknowledge that the other person is the only person who gets them in a way no one else does.

Satoru attends the Tokyo school, and Shiki the Kyoto one. Her classmate is Kusakabe Atsuya.

Kusakabe does not have a cursed technique -all he has is raw swordsmanship and physical prowess, and he was eventually able to reach Grade One. His overall outlook is also a lot more closer to that of a 'normal person' rather than an 'eccentric sorcerer,' and he has a solid moral compass and decent head on his shoulders.

Shiki mellows out a lot after becoming classmates with Kusakabe. Turns out having a normal friend does wonders for a healthier, positive mindset. Satoru also loses some of his rough edges after meeting Suguru, and Shoko.

I don't really see any Kyoto students making their way into the Star Plasma Vessel mission unless... maybe the Gojo Clan wants to call Satoru back for a meeting of some sort, after his mission? And Shiki is sent to pick him up by opportunistic elders looking to sow more discord. So Shiki arrives pretty much exactly as Fushiguro Toji makes his move. :)

#QA #zenith of stars au #Writing #same age au

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yunalinwrites · 2 months

Text

kids on christmas eve | gojo satoru x reader

available on wattpad

cover by me

summary: you learn about what happened with geto suguru and make him talk to you about it

about reader: gender neutral, relationship to gojo is unclear but they're close, on a first name basis + implied to be romantic

warnings: sad (if i did my job right), mild cursing, spoilers for jjk 0 + gojo's past/hidden inventory/star plasma vessel arc

notes: i know this is really out of season bc christmas has long passed but its for the plot lol as u prob know dec 24th is an important date

anyways i prob could've edited more but tbh i just wanted to post it already lmao hope its not cringe cuz i didn't shower to finish it (avg jjk degenerate) also im angry this was correctly formatted in google docs but tumblr ruined it and i cant b bothered to reread it under the new formatting so srry if theres smth wrong

"Gojo-sensei, that's not fair!"

Itadori had his bottom lip stuck out, his arms crossed tightly and his feet stomping against the snow.

"Yeah, come on!" Kugisaki agreed, mitten-clad hands full of the cold ammunition. "Turn it off, will you?"

You looked over to where Satoru stood. The snowballs that floated around him made it a little hard to see, but you could still tell his face was like it always was: smiling, the only deviation from its usual state being the pink on his pale nose. The rosy shade was just like his tongue when he stuck it out.

"Come and make me," he taunted.

"Why, you little..." Kugisaki grumbled. "Okay, Itadori, Formation B!"

"Roger!" Itadori yelled back.

The pair performed a number of flashy poses--as if they were trying to imitate something they'd seen in a cartoon--and before you knew it, they were charging at Satoru from two sides, arms fully loaded and wound back with mounds of snow. But it seemed Satoru knew it before you, because he just tsked--didn't even bother catching the snowballs, just let them fall apart against his forcefield.

"Gojo-sensei!" the two groaned in unison.

"You're no fun!" Itadori complained.

"It's not supposed to be fun," Satoru countered with a playful shrug. "Just because it's a snow day doesn't mean you can stop training."

"But... but... But what about...!" Kugisaki sputtered, a vein popping out of her forehead as she struggled to come up with an argument. You could almost see the lightbulb pop up above her head as she pounded her fist in her palm. "But what about global warming?"

"Yeah!" Itadori followed, not thinking. "What about--Wait, what?" Scratching his head, he tilted his head at Kugisaki.

"It could totally be the last day it ever snows, you know," she claimed matter-of-factly, her hands on her hips. "And I would so hate you forever."

Itadori's mouth formed a silent "Oh!" as Kugisaki elaborated. Nodding his head in accord, he added on: "Yeah, Gojo-sensei. I don't think I could respect you after that."

Satoru put on a dramatic pout at that last sentence, but he soon returned to a smile and gave in with a sigh. "Alright, just this once."

You could see the two students loudly jumping for joy from behind him as he made his way towards where you were sitting. You smiled warmly at the sight.

"They really are something," you commented.

"Tell me about it," Fushiguro grumbled, leaning boredly against the wooden armrest of the park bench. He observed quietly as his friends built a snowman in the distance until Satoru's towering shadow prompted him to look up.

"Megumi!" Satoru called, his voice high-pitched and sing-song. "Go play with the others."

The boy scowled in response. "I'm too old for that stuff."

"You think you're old?" Satoru challenged. He pointed at his hair, at the white color it's always been. "What does that make me?" He hunched over and put his hand on his lower spine, feigning back pain. "C'mon, listen to your teacher. Let me sit next to Y/N."

Fushiguro squinted at him for a moment before finally getting up."Gross."

You chuckled, watching the boy begrudgingly drag his feet through the snow towards his classmates, but your laughter hitched as you felt something push against you. Turning to your right, you saw his lanky teacher. At first the sensation didn’t make sense, considering that there was a considerable amount of distance between the two of you, but you soon recalled his defense measures and the complaints they had garnered.

Not noticing your discomfort, he stared up at the cloudy sky for a moment before turning to you.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I should be asking you," you replied, referencing his lack of winter wear. "Why didn't you wear a coat?"

"Well, it would ruin my outfit, of course," he stated perkily. He wore a confident smirk on his face, but looking closer you could tell he was shivering beneath the thin fabric of his uniform.

Taking a deep breath in disapproval, you reached for your scarf. "Here," you offered, unraveling the knot you’d made earlier. But when you reached to wrap it around his neck, you felt the resistance of his invisible force.

His smile eased. "It's okay," he obliged, sniffling. "Thank you, though."

You hesitated before tying your scarf back around yourself, the garment's chunky knit giving it enough volume to nearly cover your mouth and even your ears, but you could still hear his teeth chatter. You searched your surroundings, looking past the dead snow-adorned trees and following the wet pavement until you spotted something in the distance: a cafe, just down the street from where you were.

"I'll get you some hot chocolate," you decided, standing up and brushing the snowflakes off your coat.

"You don't--"

"Shh!" You pointed your finger threateningly at him before turning around to begin your walk. "Somehow you've bent logic so far that you'll end up sick if you don't drink it. So just take this as an excuse to have more sweets, alright?"

You were just about to make your first step away from the bench, but then you felt a firm grip wrap around your arm. "Wait, Y/N--"

Before he could finish his protest, he was cut off by a particularly firmly packed snowball striking him right in the middle of his face, highlighting his nose with the sparkling white powder and dislodging his blindfold. With his cerulean eyes now exposed, he turned his head and saw the three of them: Itadori pointing and cackling on the left, Kugisaki doing the same keeled over in the middle, and even Fushiguro, on the right, had the ends of his mouth perked up as he shook his head hopelessly.

You saw Satoru grin at the picture, but it was contradictory to what you were feeling. He had let go of your arm, but not by relaxing his hand--you felt him, as if brick by brick, build that invisible wall right back up between you, seemingly stronger than ever. You could still feel it, even as he walked away towards the trio, tying his blindfold back on. Sighing, you sat back down and watched him make snow angels with the others, his head blending right in with the scene as he drowned himself in the blinding whiteness. With his blindfold now fully on, you could only imagine what it was like when he smiled with his eyes.

***

"I can't feel my toes."

Twirling her brown hair between her fingers, Shoko spun around in her chair to face the doorway.

She darted her eyes between you and Satoru for a second before a calm, amused expression painted her face. Despite knowing it was his voice she heard--though it was more nasal than usual--she directed her question at you: "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I told him to wear thicker socks!" you exclaimed, your arms crossed in frustration. "But look! Show her."

Rolling his eyes behind his blindfold, Satoru pulled the fabric on his thighs, lifting the hems of his pants so that they revealed his ankles. They were barely covered by the cheap red and green striped polyester; it was the kind of thing you'd spot on sale in packs at the checkouts during Christmas season.

“So I forgot… Big deal!”

“I could fill a library with all the things you forgot,’” you complained. “I mean, what are you, a fish?”

Unfazed, Shoko chuckled. "You're telling me the strongest--the one powerful enough to rival the King of Curses--was defeated by a case of frostbite?"

The both of you responded simultaneously: "Exactly." "No!"

"I was not defeated," he insisted, earning a glare from you. "Barely a scratch. She's just being dramatic."

"I am not--"

"Is there a reason you can't heal yourself?" Shoko interrupted, now turned to Satoru.

He pointed his thumb in your direction accusingly. "She wanted to come here, not me."

"Wait," you interjected. "You can heal yourself?”

“Of course, duh.”

“Since when?"

"High school," he answered dismissively, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "See, look!"

He pointed down to his shoes--through the leather of his dress boots, you could see the movement of his wriggling toes.

You held your hands up to hide his feet from your sight. “Ew, stop that--" you grimaced. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged, smirking smugly. "My talent should go without saying."

You sighed. “Your talent to bewilder me?”

"You know it,” he asserted proudly. "But anyways–Can I go now?"

Before you could even answer, you could sense him already moving in your peripheral vision.

"Satoru, wait--"

"If you don't believe I'm fine, I'll show you my toes," he threatened, halfway out the door.

"Satoru--!"

"Go on, catch me if you can!"

You listened, trying to grab onto him but, once again, his Infinity blocked you, making you stumble into Shoko's arms as it pushed you backwards. By the time you regained your balance and rushed into the hallway, his long strides and newly healed feet had already carried him beyond your sight.

You sighed and re-entered the room, brushing yourself off. "Do you have anything for a cold?" you asked.

"I should," Shoko replied, opening up one of her medicine cabinets. "Why, are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, no, it's for him," you explained. "He's had a runny nose all week. I told him not to go out in the snow with the kids, but... You know how he is."

She hummed in acknowledgement with an understated smile, picking out a bottle of Acetaminophen capsules. Making her way over to you, she held up the container.

"I have these," she told you, but she didn't hand them to you; she just kept holding it up as she continued, "but, in my professional opinion, I don't think he has a cold."

"What do you mean?" you asked, your brow raised.

"Y/N, do you know what tomorrow is?"

"It's... the 24th."

"Mhm."

"So... Christmas Eve?"

She looked down at the floor, placing the bottle on a nearby counter and leaning back against it, getting comfortable. She stayed quiet for a moment, biting her lip in deep thought as she continued to stare at the floor with her arms crossed. But then, finally, she sighed, and reached into her coat pocket for a cigarette.

"Would you like one?" she offered, flicking the lighter at the end of the stick

"Um... No thank you..."

"Have a seat." She gestured to the metal seat against the wall.

Still thoroughly confused, you did as you were told. You felt as if your parents were about to have a stern "talk" with you--as if you had broken a vase or--arguably worse--it was time for you to understand the birds and the bees. That thought, along with the cold steel beneath you, sent chills up your body.

In an attempt to quell your anxiety, you beat her to the punch and spoke up: "You went to high school together, didn't you?"

She blew out a lengthy tangle of smoke strings. "That's right," she answered.

You shifted in your seat. "Has he always been... like this?"

"No,” she chuckled, bringing the cigarette back to her lips. "He used to wear glasses."

Your eyebrows shot up as you leaned forward in shock. "Seriously?"

She reached into her coat pocket again, this time producing a small print of a photo.

You took the glossy sheet from her hands and studied it, your mouth agape. Sure enough, there he was, on Shoko's right, smiling widely with his hair down and a pair of round sunglasses, both of them holding up peace signs. But, while Shoko's arm was clearly holding up the camera for the selfie, one of Satoru’s arms appeared to be wrapped around the shoulders of a black-haired man you didn't recognize.

Your brows furrowed at the sight. "Who's the one on the left?"

The scent of the nicotine got stronger as she took her time to ponder her answer, staring blankly into the back of the photo beneath your thumbs.

"That's Geto Suguru,” she finally told you.

You scanned his portrait meticulously. The man wore a grumpy expression with dark bags under his eyes and, contrary to the cheerful pose of the other two, he was flipping off the camera.

“Was he an upperclassman?” you asked.

She shook her head. “He was our classmate.” She gestured towards the photo with her cigarette. “We were all second-years there.”

“No way…” Holding the photo closer, you could have sworn you saw the outline of ear gauges behind Shoko’s head. “He looks so much older.”

You returned the photo to her and she slipped it back in her pocket, not taking even a glance at it as she did. She just spoke plainly: “He’s Satoru’s best friend.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Really? I wonder why I haven’t heard of him, then."

She took another puff, turning her face away from you as she let it out. “Tomorrow is his death anniversary.”

Your eyes widened before falling to the floor. “Oh… I see…”

You fell into a solemn trance, not knowing what you should or shouldn’t say and, consequently, opting to stay quiet out of respect. But, suddenly, you were interrupted by the sound of light laughter.

“Even if he were still with us, I doubt you would’ve been able to tell. They bickered so much you’d think they hated each other.”

She walked around to the other side of the counter, leaning forward on it as she rested her hand on her palm.

“Who could get to class faster… Who could shoot more hoops in a minute… Who could make a bigger crater in the courtyard…”

You tried to imagine the pair wreaking havoc on an older version of the Jujutsu Tech Campus, but while it was easy to fit Satoru’s cheeky grin into all of these scenarios, it was hard to see such a mature-looking person as Geto doing these childish things.

“Ah, but you know, Y/N,” she started, looking up at you with a smile. “I think you would have been able to tell that Suguru was actually younger.”

“What?” you gasped, surprised at both the fact that he was younger and that Shoko thought that would be clear to you. “There’s no way…”

“Well, for starters, Suguru is shorter, if you put them side-by-side,” she argued. “And… Hm…”

She stopped to contemplate how to put together her next sentence–or if she should even do so at all. But in the end, she brought her cigarette back to her lips and exhaled: “I think you would have agreed with me that he’s the more immature one.”

Your brows furrowed as you scoffed in disbelief. “That's impossible… Satoru could be ten-feet tall and not a single thing on this planet could make him seem more mature than another person.”

She chuckled, though you could sense a sadness behind the sound, and you realized that your comment might’ve come off as insensitive. Clearing your throat, awkwardly, you granted her the floor: “What makes you say that?”

She took another inhale and sighed out a long cloud. Looking out the window of her office, she saw the faint glow of the multicolored lights that decorated it on the outside. She took in the sight for a quiet moment before sinking into her swivel chair, puffing once more.

“I still don’t know much about his childhood,” she began. “I never asked, and I never got to meet his parents. But I can tell you for certain that Suguru was the sort of kid who threw a tantrum when he didn’t get what he wanted for Christmas.

“I’m sure he had wishlists a mile long, but he wouldn’t be the kind to write even a single letter about it to Santa. Of course, that’d make it difficult for his family, and maybe they could've tried harder to figure it out–but he just wouldn't understand why what he wanted wasn't obvious to everyone.

“I can imagine one day someone told him the truth about Santa, and he was probably absolutely devastated. But, to him, it wouldn't be about the presents. It would be about the people around him: his mom, his dad, his teachers, his neighbors, everyone–the people who had been deceiving him his whole life.

“I don't think he ever forgave anyone for that, all the way up until he found himself as a seventeen-year-old at Jujutsu High.”

The air became thick–suffocatingly so–and your spine no longer fit right against the back of the bench.

“What exactly… did he do?”

She rolled her chair towards her desk and put out her cigarette, pushing and twisting it into the ashtray by her desk calendar.

“In a single night, he killed one hundred and twelve civilians–non-sorcerers–including his parents. He wanted to create a world where only sorcerers exist.”

“O-oh my God…” Your hand rose up to cover your gaping mouth. “Wh.. Why?!”

“By killing non-sorcerers, you stop curses from the source.”

“But you can't just–” You cut yourself off, thousands of words rushing and racing to your mouth. “Didn't anyone try to stop him?”

“Maybe Satoru could've. If Suguru decided to tell him, that is.”

Your face was wound up in concern. “That's horrible…”

“I know, right?” she casually agreed. “To want to be understood, but never willing to understand… Isn't it childish?” She even laughed. “Though, I suppose he was just a kid.”

“Just a kid?!” You stuck your head out in disbelief. “No, no… Satoru is childish. But that–that’s… inhumane!

You pointed to the door. “Satoru was a kid.”

You pointed to her. “You were a kid.”

Lowering your hand, you scrunched the hem of your shirt. “I might not have known you then, but I know you never would have done that.”

“To be fair, I'm not the strongest,” she defended plainly. “I'm just a doctor.”

The crease between your eyebrows deepened as you threw your arms up. “Okay–then Satoru! Satoru would never do something like that! And he… he's still a kid!”

“Satoru killed his best friend–his one and only.” She clasped her hands together on her desk. “A kid wouldn't do that, would they?”

You froze at the edge of your seat, blinking rapidly as you pieced together the puzzle.

“He… killed…?” you trailed off.

Shoko stared grimly at her hands as she tightened her grip on herself. “A kid wouldn’t have understood.”

You bore your eyes into her, waiting, begging for her to continue, to elaborate, to make it make sense, but she just stayed quiet, kept to herself.

You directed your eyes to the freshly polished floor tiles. As you stared into the blurry reflection of yourself, you tried imagining it again: Satoru, tall and white haired, and this kid grumpy little kid he called Suguru, wreaking havoc on the old campus of Jujutsu High: walking to class together, dribbling a basketball between each other, meeting up in the courtyard with one another.

“That…” you began hesitantly. “That still doesn't excuse what happened.”

Shoko looked up at you, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, and though she wasn’t as contented as she had been before your conversation, her expression was no longer grave; she seemed satisfied. Slowly, she put her palms on her desk and pushed herself up from her seat.

“To answer your question from earlier–properly,” she started, making her way over to you. “I think that Satoru has always been that way–the way Gojo Satoru has to be.”

“But if there were ever a time that he weren’t,” she interjected, sliding her hand into her coat pocket.

“It would have been thanks to him.”

***

Your footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, stopping every once in a while to slide open one of the stiff doors only to struggle to shut it a moment later. You increased the reach of your steps, and the thump of your shoes against the wood planks competed with the hooting owl perched on the snow covered roof.

Suddenly, you heard a new noise: a honking, like that of a goose, coming from the end of the hall and slightly to the left. Now picking up to a jog, you made a beeline for the door and jerked it open.

“Well, if it isn’t my long-awaited Christmas present!” he exclaimed. “Looks like Santa’s early this year.”

He rested against the corner of one of the student’s desks, already facing you with his hands in his pocket. From behind him, you could just barely see the white crumpled-up balls of tissue that scattered the surface.

“I guess some people do gifts on Christmas Eve though, right?” he considered, putting a finger to his chin. “But, ah… choosing gifts is so hard. I need all the time I can get.”

He didn’t acknowledge your entrance at all; his Six Eyes had seen it coming miles away, allowing him enough time to get into position to pick up wherever you’d last left off. You didn’t acknowledge him either, keeping a stone face as you stepped into the room.

“What’s with the face, hm? Did you not like your presents?”

“Satoru,” you said sternly.

“Did you ask Santa for anything this year?” he went on, continuing to pay you no mind.

You sighed. You couldn’t help but let the ends of your lips pick up, but you kept your eyes down at the dirtied pattern of the floor.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas,” you admit.

“What? Why not?” he questioned astonishedly, forming a pout. “Does that mean you didn’t get me a present?”

You shook your head lightly, making your way over to him. “I’ve always thought it was sort of weird. To celebrate the birth of a martyr.”

“Hm,” he sounded. “Well that’s no fun.”

Planting his hands on the surface, he hoisted himself up onto his desk. “Santa probably wouldn’t give anything other than coal to a non-believer,” he noted. “But since I’m so nice, I’ll get you something. Just tell me–what is it that you want for Christmas?”

His smile stayed in place as you darted your pupils around his visage, your own face beginning to fall. You took slow steps towards the desk next to him, getting as close as you could before you felt his Infinity push back

“Satoru, can you do me a favor?” you requested gently.

“Depends on what the favor is,” he chirped back.

Reaching your hand out, you traced your forefinger on the edge of the invisible barrier before applying pressure into it, testing the shield’s strength. You pushed with all your might, but all it did was whiten your finger tip and make your knuckles concave.

You retracted, looking back into his eyes. “Can you take it down?”

You could see the movement of his eyebrows raising beneath his blindfold. “You tryna kill me?”

Again, you shook your head, still solemn.

He crossed his arms and squinted at you, biting his cheek. Leaning back, he put his weight onto his hands behind him, loosely grabbing the edge of his desk, his expression becoming relaxed. “Alright. Here you go.”

You took another small step into the newfound space until you were only inches apart. Slowly, you extended both your hands towards his face, but then suddenly reeled them back into a hesitant fist in disbelief, the lack of resistance uncomfortably foreign.

You inhaled deeply through your nose and exhaled the air shakily through your mouth, trying hard to slow the rapid beating in your chest. Ignoring the smirk on his face, you tried to reach out to him, one final time.

Letting your arms wrap around his head, your hands searched his silky hair for the knot that held up his eye covering. When you finally felt the bump, you took your time digging your nails into where the fabric held onto itself, carefully pulling apart its loops.

As the blindfold fell to his neckline, his signature grin stayed plastered on his face, but just about every other feature of his seemed to change completely when the white wisps came down to frame them. His azure eyes, for example, glimmered under the faint moonlight coming through the window, but not in the way that they usually did. They were shining like lacquer, but it was as if, from underneath that, their batteries had been taken out. In their dullness, you could see the reflection of the long white lashes resting on the eyelids above, forming sharp, unnatural shapes as they clumped together unevenly. Pink waterlines painted the bottom of his irises, and a faint red was seemingly airbrushed around the surrounding puffy skin.

You trailed your hands down the back of his head until they cupped his jawline, holding his face as you explored its entirety. Moving from his eyes to his flushed, leaking nose, his smirk grew when your gaze landed on his lips.

“Are you sure you want to use your gift on this?” he teased. “Kind of a waste, in my opinion–you could’ve just found a mistletoe.”

“Satoru.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you to stop smiling.”

For a moment, he listened to you: his mouth fell open, but then it fell back into its previous position as he flashed his teeth at you. “My bad. I didn’t mean to blind you.”

“Please?”

He kept still while your thumb gently stroked his powder-smooth cheek. He jolted slightly as his lungs forced out a nervous chuckle, but he trailed off as your touch continued on him. Realizing your relentlessness, he sucked in his lips and clamped them together with his teeth as if he was trying to stop any further laughter.

He stayed like this for a moment, waiting for you to let go, but your tender movements showed no signs of stopping–you only slowed down when your eyes flitted up to meet his. He tried his best to return your stare, but eventually, he accepted defeat in the contest. And so, little by little, he let his lips roll out and the muscles to dispose into a resting state.

His voice became low, a near whisper. “Is… everything okay?”

Finally removing your hands from him, you nodded. Returning them to yourself, you glided one into the back pocket of your pants.

Taking a step back, you held up the sheet of glossy photo paper side-by-side with his face. You could name a number of differences: the neckline of the teacher’s uniform was looser and higher, his bangs now were longer and a bit thicker, and, of course, he wasn’t wearing glasses, and he wasn’t smiling. But, somehow, now more than ever, you could see the resemblance.

“What have you got there?”

Moving towards him again, you handed him the photo. It felt strange, witnessing the rare sight of his pupils’ every rapid move. And in addition to that, ever so slightly, you could see his swollen under eyes rise as the softest of smiles pushed up his cheeks. It was nothing like the sickeningly-sweet beamings you were used to seeing from him, though; it was subdued, raw like the cacao in dark chocolate, undiluted by sugar or milk.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, incredulous.

“Like you said, Santa came early,” you joked mildly.

“No, really,” he persisted, his tone reaching a bass you’d never heard from him before. “Where did you get this?”

You sat yourself on the desk next to him. “Shoko,” you admitted.

“What did she tell you?”

Your shrug was subtle. “As much as she could.”

He continued to scrutinize the photo in his hands, his brows drawing together.

“Satoru,” you proceeded, hushed. “If it’s okay… I’d like it if you told me about it.”

He lowered the photo so that it no longer obstructed his view of you, but he didn’t take advantage of the space he gave himself; he kept staring at the photo as he spoke: “There’s not much to tell about. I was the strongest then and I’m the strongest now.”

You rested your hands on your lap and exhaled deeply. “That’s not what I mean,” you contested.

It was as if he couldn’t hear you, continuing to stare vapidly into the photo as if somehow your sentence didn’t make it to his ears. But that was impossible; you’d said what you said, and the room was dead silent.

“I… I want you to tell me about him,” you clarified.

He shifted in his seat, finally looking away from the photo and up at you. “You mean… Geto Suguru?” he asked, as if there were any other ‘him’ in that photo.

“Well… he’s the worst of all curse users,” he offered. He then shoved the photo back in your direction, a sudden grin straining itself on his face. “But it’s okay. He’s gone now.”

Ignoring his move, you asked, “Is it really okay?”

“I made sure of it,” he affirmed, impatiently nudging the paper at you.

He resumed his usual playful lilt. “Are you doubting me?” he tested.

“I don’t doubt you for a second–not in that sense. You’ve always been strong,” you reassured him. “But that’s exactly why I doubt you know how to be weak.”

He scoffed. “You think Gojo Satoru would know how to be weak?”

“No, I don’t. That’s my whole point,” you upheld firmly.

He folded his arms across his chest, his mocking tone sharpening: “Why would anyone want to know how to be weak?”

“Because even Gojo Satoru needs to realize he can’t just smile and laugh all the time,” you challenged, feeling heat rise up your neck.

His eyes darkened, seemingly into a navy blue, and his inflection further condescended: “There are a lot of things you don’t understand.”

“Satoru, how on earth am I supposed to understand?!”

As your tone cut through, just as abruptly you pushed the desk behind you and dropped heavily to your feet.

“You’re right, I don't understand you,” you confessed frustratedly, pointing to yourself. “I don’t understand you at all. Because how could I possibly understand you? I can’t see your eyes, I can’t even get near you, and I’ve never seen you not smile.”

Your voice made gaps as your vocal cords threatened sobs. “And sure, I call you by your first name, and I laugh and I smile at all your dumb jokes and… and the idiotic games you play…

“But it’s–it’s… scary, Satoru. Creepy, even. How you know just about everything there is to know about me and yet… It's like I don’t even know who you are. You’re just a toy in the corner, watching everyone come in and out of the room, but I can never make you say or be or feel anything.”

“Feelings are what made him into who he was,” he stated coldly, his eyes fixed on the grimy floor. “It’s important for sorcerers to have a hold on their emotions.”

“So you know what happens, then,” you argued firmly, your shoes coming into his view as you stepped closer. “You know what it’s like to be shut out from them.”

You pushed his chin up, forcing him to witness the way you were holding on desperately to the tears that bordered your lower waterline.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Do you always get Sprite?” he’d asked, looking down as his friend retrieved his drink from the bottom of the machine.

“I mean… yeah, I guess,” Suguru replied plainly. “Why?”

A pit formed in his stomach as he heard the crack of the can opening.

“Shit. I’ve been getting you Coke this whole time,” he’d mumbled. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Suguru shrugged, beginning to head in the direction of the classroom. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Dude, are you good?”

Suguru jolted awake, sitting up from the plush back of the couch and nearly spilling the bowl of popcorn in his lap.

“Do you wanna watch something else?” he’d suggested, but Suguru just shook his head.

“I thought you liked Digimon,” Suguru objected.

“Well yeah, but…”

The only lighting came from the flashing screen, but it was enough for him to see his friend yawn, making his eyes water, dark bags underneath them.

“You can turn it up if you want,” was all Suguru had to say, but even after doing what Suguru said, he couldn’t focus on his favorite TV show.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything,” he started, reaching into his bag. “But here.”

“What’s this?” Suguru questioned.

“Your Christmas present, duh.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Suguru pointed out. “And I told you–”

“I know! But just open it.”

He watched as Suguru lifted the lid of the small gray box, revealing a small pair of white gauges.

“I didn’t really know what size to get… But I think they’d look cool on you.”

“Thanks, Satoru.”

He lit up, thinking that he’d finally done something right by his friend, but the way that Suguru looked up at him, the way Suguru smiled insincerely, told him he should’ve waited for Christmas Day.

The tears were warm as they rolled down his face, past his trembling lip and blooming into the blindfold that rested loosely around his neck.

“I just don't understand why he didn’t talk to me.”

You pulled him into a hug, carding your fingers in his hair as you rested his head on your shoulder.

“He thought I hated him,” he told you shakily, finding himself clutching onto your shirt. “I didn’t see him for ten years and… and that whole time he thought I hated him.”

He inhaled a sharp sniffle. “I… I don’t hate him,” he whimpered, his pitch jumping and his body beginning to tremble. “I don’t hate him, Y/N, I don’t, I don’t, I never, ever did.”

“I know,” you whispered, stroking his hair, holding him tighter as he jerked with sobs.

He placed his head on your shoulder, staring at the blindfold that had unraveled itself and fallen between you. “I hate myself.”

You pulled back, cupping his jawline and holding it in front of you.

“Don’t say that…”

“But he was my best friend, Y/N,” he insisted, gripping desperately onto your shoulders. “I saw him every single day… every single day, all of that was running through his head and I… I didn’t even know… I just watched and… and I made him think I hated him. I was supposed to be his best friend.”

“You did everything you could, Satoru.”

“It was all my fault.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did it happen?” he whined. “It had to have been for a reason–It can't just hurt and be for no reason. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“It’s not,” you told him, shaking your head gently and looking deeply into his eyes. “It’s not fair at all.”

Indicating the breaking of a dam, a deafening, siren-like wail pierced the air. His face was red and scrunched up, his nose was dripping with snot, and his hands were coming up to swipe desperately at the tears on his cheeks.

You pulled him close to you again as he kept hiccuping and sniffling into the crook of your neck. His loud weeping wet your shirt with both the fluids from his eyes and nose, but you didn’t care; you just rubbed his back, caressing him tenderly.

His voice was suddenly clearer as he took deep breaths to try and recuperate himself: “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Why are you sorry?” you asked, stiffening your hold on him.

“I just… I don’t know. I hate crying. I’m not a kid anymore, you know?” he tried laughing.

“Satoru,” you whispered delicately, turning your head so your words rested right by his ear. “You were never a kid.”

Gently, you pressed his head into you, stopping him from moving his lips in any way. “I want you to be one right now.”

You let him stay in your arms for a while until his tears subsided and his breathing steadied. You had moved to the floor at some point, allowing him to comfortably lean on you as you embraced him, his previous quivering replaced now by the calm rhythm of his rising and falling figure.

He hadn’t talked in a while, so you assumed he’d fallen asleep, but then, among his mellow breathing, a mumble came up right by your ear:

“Thank you,” he’d said.

Hugging him tighter, you patted him on the back softly. “Of course.”

As one hand traveled to intertwine its fingers in his hair, you reached for your phone with your other one.

You pressed the power button on its side, and flinched backward, squinting at the brightness your phone screen emitted. Despite your sudden movement, Satoru didn’t show any sort of reaction; he’d fallen asleep, for sure now.

You continued to comb through his white locks, a little more consciously now, as you made note of the time and date your phone’s clock displayed, changing right before your eyes:

December 25th, 00:00

You smiled, dragging your coat up to cover the both of you as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, Satoru.”

***

might do a toji x megumi's teacher reader if u wanna follow

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #satoru gojo

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cursedvibes · 4 months

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As antagonist who do you think is better between Sukuna, Kenjaku, or Toji? Why? How will you rank them?

Hm, that's a bit difficult. Toji's character arc is already over, while Sukuna and Kenjaku are currently at the height of theirs, meaning a lot could change for them. Toji is also only a minor antagonist. His presence has a broader effect on jujutsu world, but more because of his heavenly restriction and lineage not as an antagonist. I think Mahito would've been a better pick in terms of comparable roles in the story. But anyway, if I had to rank them, I'd do it something like this...

(Toji >) Kenjaku > Sukuna

Toji

Toji is the antagonist of Hidden Inventory and I think he did a good job with that. Geto and Gojo are supposed to protect the Star Plasma Vessel and he challenges them in that and also fundamentally alters their life through their encounter, forcing them to re-examine their values and change as a person. His existence affected Gojo until the day he died, even after his own defeat. By killing the Star Plasma Vessel permanently he also has an effect on the broader world and nicely helps Kenjaku with their plan. So yeah, he did what he needed to do very well. Don't really have anything to complain here that's why I put him first, but I don't think you can compare him that well to Kenjaku and Sukuna.

Kenjaku

Kenjaku is the main antagonist of the story. They push the narrative forward, without them jjk wouldn't have much of a plot, and they also propose structural challenges to the entire system. Their actions change the world so fundamentally that there is no way to return to status quo. They force the protagonists to act and question the system they were used to, while also evolving on a personal level through the many challenges they live through. Kenjaku also poses a threat that goes beyond them as a person. Killing them won't fix the damage they have done. It won't stop the Culling Game (might make it even harder to do that with the current rules) and it likely will accelerate the merger too. Contrary to Sukuna, the protagonists are forced to consider the structure of their world to stop their plan, it will take more than just pure strength to really defeat Kenjaku. Fitting because Kenjaku is not very strong compared to all the power houses on the protagonist side and was never interested in fighting either. Instead the main characters have for example the challenge that destroying the Purification Barriers around Japan could stop the Culling Game and the merger, but it would also increase the ferocity of curses and would essentially forever destroy the foundation of jujutsu society.

What also makes Kenjaku a good antagonists that goes beyond merely the chess master archetype is their improvisation, love for chaos and novelty, and personal attachments. The accomplishment of their long-standing goal is tied to giving up a close friendship, the person who probably understood them best, and we see Kenjaku struggle with that decision after they have done it. Takaba's appearance makes them question their approach and goals and shows us readers that Kenjaku is actually after very simple things that can be summarized by their requirements for friendship: have an equal friend by their side and be entertained. This makes them a lot more human and their drive more understandable beyond simply fun in seeing destruction, chaos and suffering from a detached mastermind position.

Yuuji fits in there as well. He shows that despite the trauma Kenjaku puts him through, they care on some level and he isn't merely one of many test subjects. The motherhood angle gives Kenjaku another layer of investment in the actions of the protagonists and again breaks their actions, despite their wide-reaching world-altering consequences, down to something personal. It also emphasizes how wrong and cruel Kenjaku's experiments are, since they are capable of hurting someone they care about and consider a son.

My only complaint with Kenjaku is exactly their connection to Yuuji, however. That relation has been used very well to give Kenjaku more depth, but we have been getting absolutely nothing for Yuuji. As it stands, Kenjaku didn't need to be Yuuji's mother, he could just be a test subject they really like, and not much would change, certainly not from Yuuji's perspective. He's been thrown around by Kenjaku's schemes like a ping-pong ball and yet doesn't seem to care nor hold particular disdain for Kenjaku. That needs to change. There needs to be some sort of interaction between him and Kenjaku or for Yuuji to at least reflect on the connection they share. Kenjaku is a great main antagonist, but how good of an antagonist they are for Yuuji is still up in the air. All depends on how well what has been set up about their relation will be executed.

Sukuna

Sukuna is a good antagonist for Yuuji. Not as good as Mahito in my opinion, but still very effective. His mere presence alters Yuuji's life and both when becoming his vessel and when having that role ripped away from him, Yuuji is forced to reconsider his stance on his own life and death and what he wants out of both of them. How he wants to live and how he wants to die. Especially taking Sukuna out of Yuuji was a very good idea. First Yuuji grappled with what it means to essentially become a sacrificial lamb and have his whole being objectified as being merely a convenient way to kill a dangerous foe. However, he started to settle into those circumstances and adopted the cog mentality. By robbing himself of personhood he protected himself against others doing it and it was also a way for him to see his life and death as valuable. By making his life worthless he can improve those of others. But then that role was taken from him as well, just when he had resolved to his death. Now he is searching for a new purpose and seems to have found it in killing Sukuna with the help of others and saving Megumi from being Sukuna's new vessel, even or especially by giving up his own life. We have also seen that this has forced Yuuji to take on a more active role and not just let himself be lead by what Gojo or Megumi want of him. He is taking the lead role in planning on how to take down Sukuna and so far his plan has been very effective.

Back to Sukuna, I think he is best in short explosive moments like his massacre in Shibuya or when jumping from Yuuji to Megumi. These are brutal, shocking and shake Yuuji deeply. He heightens Yuuji's guilt with both actions and makes him question everything, all his convictions. However, I think the longer Sukuna is around, the more he loses that effect and often turns all too quickly from threatening to school yard bully. I don't mean that as him having a particular hate for the power Yuuji holds over him (something which is especially humiliating with the importance he puts on strength and weakness) and acting petty because of that, but I mean in general. Especially during the current showdown in Shinjuku I think he very easily becomes a quite generic Big Bad Evil Villain. Doesn't help that we don't know a whole lot about his goals and ideology yet beyond "meet people who can challenge him" and "might makes right".

I think what we need with him is similar to what we got with Kenjaku, meaning make it more personal. Less "stop Godzilla from destroying Tokyo" and go more into depth on the connection between him and Yuuji. Make him face the power Yuuji can have over whim and have him be the one to question his beliefs for once, since he so firmly classifies Yuuji as weak, even if he acknowledges small improvements in skill. Something like Higuruma's domain would have been the perfect set-up for that because they are on an equal playing field there. But as we saw, Sukuna ran from that opportunity. Seems like we now have to wait for the numbers to dwindle for Yuuji and Sukuna to have a meaningful confrontation where we get a real clash of their principles. Think the finale of Yuuji and Mahito's fight. Mahito was such an effective antagonist for Yuuji not just because he was cruel, but he was also a very personal challenge for Yuuji and both of their beliefs were altered through their fights. That's what we need for Sukuna as well. Throwing ally after ally at him in the ever-same dusty landscape is getting a bit boring. Narrowing the scope would help a lot I think.

#asks #jjk spoilers #kenjaku #ryomen sukuna

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chuuyrr · 2 years

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Hi are requests open?

If it is, can I request on jjk a scarlet witch mama!reader on teen gojo, geto, and shoko. Like its just pure fluff, reader helping geto through ‘that’ thing 😭 like he didnt go down that road, and with gojo its just fluff along with shoko (and maybe reader will help her reversed cursed technique)

If it’s possible maybe a lil protective trio on mama!reader?

You can decide how you’ll go with it <3

Thankyou! <33

mama! scarlet witch! reader with satoru, suguru and shoko

jujutsu kaisen x reader

masterlist of the series

╰➤ CW(s): major manga spoilers for jujutsu kaisen (gojo's past arc), mentions of scarlet witch's powers, light themes of angst and major themes of fluff

╰➤ PAIRING(s): mama! reader x son! gojo satoru, platonic! geto suguru x reader, platonic! ieiri shoko x reader

hello dear anon :D thank you for requesting and for being patient. haven't written any mama! scarlet witch! reader in a long time so expect more incoming mama! reader content for today's video char. anyway, enjoy reading ♡

being a mother to gojo satoru meant being a mother to more than one child. it was gojo, and the entire package to be precise. suguru and shoko were as under your utmost care too. it was actually quite amusing. you've always wanted children to care for, to be a mother for, and now fate is finally listening.

however, it is not always sunny and rainbows. the children you looked after weren't just any ordinary kids. they were jujutsu sorcerers, which meant they had missions to complete, and one in particular took them by surprise; it was the star plasma vessel incident. the killing of amanai riko

unfortunately, due to a multiversal problem, you were unable to assist satoru and jujutsu tech. only when you returned home did you realize it was too late. you seemed to have lost track of time. sure, satoru was able to master reversal red and use hollowed purple to end fushiguro toji's life, but the fourteen-year-death old's still occurred, and it affected poor suguru.

"goodness! my sweeties!" you dashed up to the three teenagers, instantly engulfing them in your warm embrace. "are you alright? mom's here. i'll fix you up, okay?"

you recall satoru trotting up to you, his lips quivering and his aquamarine eyes glazed with tears, and you couldn't help but hug him tightly and apologize for not being there for him, his friends, and the girl. suguru had been slowly drifting away from satoru and shoko since that incident. he was despondent and helpless. it was tearing your poor son apart, and you would do anything and everything to help him.

"it's okay, sweetheart. i got you, you're okay. it's going to be okay, i promise." you rubbed shapes on his back to comfort him. "i'll go talk to suguru."

you recall approaching suguru on that particular day. he was sitting alone somewhere in a secluded jujutsu tech area. instead of being neatly tied into a bun, his hair was disheveled and let down. his eyes were conflicted and at a loss when they came to you; the parent of his best friend, whom he saw as more of a mother than his own.

"[name]-san?" suguru's voice was low and sullen, but he addressed you with the same respect he always does. "what are you doing here? satoru told you.. didn't he..?"

"mhm." you took a seat beside him, placing a hand on his back, smiling softly.

"tch, that bastard." the raven-haired boy scoffed quietly.

"satoru's worried about you, and i am too." you admitted, rubbing circles on his back in a motherly and affectionate manner as a form of comfort. "i really wish i returned sooner that day, then maybe, none of you would have to go through any of that. i'm sorry, suguru-kun."

"it's not your fault, [name]-san. it's.." suguru halted, taking in a sharp breath. "i just.. us jujutsu sorcerers are supposed to protect the weak, the non-jujutsu sorcerers, and yet.." he rubbed his temples as he shook his head. "i 'm sorry, [name]-san. it's just tiring. i feel as if i'm trapped in this endless cycle of exorcism and consumption. who am i doing it all for? those.. those non-sorcerers from the star religious group?"

suguru lifted his head, turning his head to face you. "i saw a hideous evil that day and i chose to protect them. i stopped satoru from killing them that day."

his eyes then fell onto the floor, as he took another deep breath, "non-jujutsu sorcerers are the reason curses exists. what if.. what if all of them just di—you grabbed his hand and squeezed it, dragging the boy out of his own thoughts, before suguru could finish his sentence.

you were able to see the terrible future that awaits this young man in a minute's reading, the incoming night parade of a hundred demons. harm to gojo's incoming first-year students. suguru's death. his body getting hijacked. but most of all, chaos.

"[name]-san?" suguru inquired, his eyes widening as tears streamed down your cheeks. your firm grip on his hand was now trembling.

you loosened your grip on suguru's hand and clasped your own, clasping them together. you took a deep breath and shook your head. as you faced him, you managed a breathless laugh, tears still welling up in your [color] eyes. "i'm not sure what to say. perhaps it's best if i show it to you."

you softly tapped suguru's temple with your index and middle fingers, and the vision you just had filled his head with your power. suguru felt as if he had lived a lifetime beneath everything, despite the fact that only a minute had passed in real time. it felt real, even though it wasn't. suguru struggled to breathe for a moment because it was so overwhelming. what was that? suguru had no intention of doing any of that. he wouldn't—would he? but, that was the future at the time.

"you don't have to believe what i just showed you right now, and i don't want to force you to believe it either," you said, allowing your magic to dissipate and his mind to be released. "i'm still paying the price for my own actions back then."

suguru looked at you, perplexed. make the same mistakes? did you possibly... have you ever harmed someone? or even killed?

"i'm afraid i have," you sighed, causing suguru's eyes to widen. you have also read his thoughts. "i've been there, too. i know the feeling all too well. these hands have become stained in red because of my own self-righteousness and selfishness. i've killed people before. my own beliefs and desires have led me to being haunted by the consequences of my actions. i wasn't always a good person, i'll admit that."

"[name]-san.." suguru took hold of your wrist.

"i know i'm not your real mother, but you're like a son to me, and i don't want you to make the same mistakes i did, suguru-kun. putting yourself in a world of violence will make no difference; you'll just end up hurting yourself, not just everyone." you smiled as you took both of his hands in yours.

"there are just some things that have to be that way, and well, are beyond our control, but choose to be kind. always be kind. sometimes kindness is enough, and it will always be something better than hurting others."

suguru has been eternally grateful to you since that time. many times, suguru was on the verge of succumbing to the darkness of his heart and mind, but with your and satoru's help, things turned out for the better.

the vision you and he saw vanished, and all you could see when you watched him, satoru, and shoko messing around, eating the treats you gave them as a reward for completing a mission, was a bright future. shoko became a doctor, whereas suguru and satoru became jujutsu tech teachers. they still like to argue with each other, but their friendship hasn't changed.

you may not admit it, but you've always wanted to know what it's like to have a daughter. you've always had sons, so when shoko entered your life, your heart rejoiced. though she was more laid-back than satoru and suguru, she enjoyed your company more than the two (lol jk)

you were simply a fascinating woman. you were so motherly and kind to everyone, and your abilities were something she admired. when it's just satoru and suguru on a mission, shoko will often stop by your place to either hang out and eat or help you around while she takes a break and waits for them.

you were on your way to where the kids were, carrying a bunch of boxed treats that you had made extra for your café. you entered the campus, and as soon as you got to the grounds, satoru practically ran to you, abandoning his training with suguru, shoko, and yaga.

"mama!" you laughed softly as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek and swaying you side to side.

"did you miss me that much?" you laughed softly, rubbing his back affectionately before pulling away.

"[name]-san, it's so good to see you. what brings you here?" yaga greeted you with a smile.

"just bringing you, toru-chan, sugu-chan and shoko-chan baked goodies. i made plenty!" you chimed, holding up the fresh pastries and sweets you just had made.

you had set up a good little picnic under the shade of a tree with the treats all set up on a blanket you had brought as yaga gave his students a break before he left to do some work. while satoru and suguru were wolfing down the food, you noticed shoko barely eating anything, which triggered your maternal instincts.

"shoko-chan? you okay, hun?" you asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"oh, um. i'm good, [name]-san." shoko managed a smile but you knew better.

"shoko's been struggling with her reversed curse technique lately. that's why." satoru blurted, causing an empty box of sweets to get thrown at him straight in the face by suguru.

"you didn't have to tell [name]-san that! shoko didn't want her to know." suguru shot his best friend a glare.

"is that so? that's fine. mastering abilities isn't always easy." you rubbed shoko's arm for comfort. "take my powers, for example, i wasn't always this good with them when i was your age," you said as you demonstrated your red psionics.

"reversed cursed technique?" you asked, "if i remember correctly from the books that master tengen gave me when i first came here, that's a special and complex type of cursed technique that reverses cursed energy into positive energy," shoko, satoru, and suguru nodded in response. "it's primarily used to heal human bodies; hmm, now that i think about it, that's something i can do with my magic as well, but on a molecular level."

"i have an idea! would you like me to help you with it? i'm not a teacher, but i'll do my best, shoko-chan." you exclaimed, smiling.

"really? thank you, [name]-san." shoko blinked, a faint blush spreading across her cheekbones.

"see! you should have told my mom about it right off the bat. she'd help you out." satoru drew out a sigh, chuckling softly as he shook his head.

"well, i didn't want to bother [name]-san. she already has a handful son and work at the cafe she owns." shoko stuck out her tongue at him to mock, causing satoru to gasp dramatically with suguru laughing in the background.

"now, now. settle down, sweethearts." you drew their attention, "no fighting."

"sorry, mom."

satoru, suguru and shoko uttered in unison, causing you stare at the three teenagers with wide eyes as they glanced each other in disbelief for a second before bursting into laughter. you sighed, shaking your head, smiling. it is just like you said, taking care of satoru means the whole package.

bonus scene:

ding.. ding..

"welcome to witch's brew, how can i—you looked up from the glass display of your freshly baked sweets to greet a customer when you found satoru, suguru and shoko coming inside of your café instead. "oh, my! i wasn't expecting you three to be early today."

"we finished early today, so we came here as fast as we could!" satoru exclaimed, heading straight into your arms for a hug as you rubbed his back in a motherly way, giggling softly.

"ever the clingy snowflake." you sighed, shaking your head with a smile, causing satoru to gasp and shoot a small glare.

"ma! don't call me that anymore." satoru exclaimed only to be patted on the head before you ushered him to one of your cafe's tables where suguru and shoko were comfortably seated.

"yes, yes. i know, sweetheart. just messing with you." you laughed before raising your index finger to use your chaos magic to grab a bunch of freshly baked sweets straight from the oven while also making some coffee. "so, how was the mission you three?"

"it went well, [name]-san." suguru answered with a closed-eye smile. "we were able to exorcise the curse with ease."

"your lessons helped a lot, [name]-san. thank you." shoko said in addition, bowing her head slightly at you.

"yeah, shoko's reversed cursed technique significantly improved thanks to you, ma." satoru nodded in agreement, grinning.

"say, [name]-san? why don't you teach at the school instead? sure, you don't have cursed energy but you're good at mentoring." shoko suggested.

"me? a teacher? no, thank you. id rather bake and make coffee." you shook your head, smiling as you set the children's food and drinks on the table. "besides, dealing with the higher-ups isn't something i enjoy, especially the big three clans. they're like pesky little bugs, you know, asking for my hand in marriage and such," you grumbled, holding a look of disgust.

"MARRIAGE?!"

suguru choked on his coffee as satoru and shoko dropped the piece of pastry they had yet to eat. their faces' colors were instantly drained.

"b-but why? what the fuck?!" satoru yelled out, sharply exhaling out a breath.

"language, satoru!" you gave him a look that caused him to apologize before exhaling a long sigh. "did you forget? when i took you in when you were still a child, the gojo clan wanted me to marry one of theirs so i could take the name and give them a powerful child, or something like that. apparently, the other two clans had the same idea, you know?"

"now, that's load of bull. the clans aren't bothering you anymore, are they, [name]-san?" shoko furrowed her brows and leaned against her knuckles, her elbow on the table.

"they better not! i'm mixing colors the next time i come back to the estate." gojo angrily scowled.

"i might as well send them a special grade curse to mess with. maybe three at the same time," suguru suggested, holding a mischievous yet angry expression alongside satoru, who nodded curtly in agreement.

"sweethearts, please. settle down. no one's mixing colors or summoning special grade curses." you grabbed satoru and suguru's shoulders and looked at the boys and shoko. "i didn't watch over you three to cause a ruckus and use your abilities for something like that. understood?"

"sorry, mom..." the trio muttered in unison, their faces dropping.

"i know you three love me just as much, and i appreciate it. i love you guys as well, but i can look after myself. besides, i can always turn them into a frog." you smiled as you embraced satoru, suguru, and shoko.

"a f-frog? you can do that too?" they paled.

"oh, that's not all, sweethearts. reality can be whatever i want. i'm the scarlet witch after all."

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tsukimefuku · 2 months

Text

❅ Sand and Snow | Chapter 5

ALL CHAPTERS HERE | PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE.

In the city of Odate, Akita, there have been multiple deaths in the past few weeks. The first-grade sorcerer Nanami Kento is sent out to investigate the snowy city, not knowing that it would be his last mission as a Jujutsu High student.

Why Nanami left Jujutsu High to become a 9/5 corporate slave.

Tags: Murder/mystery, canon typical violence, POV Nanami, Post Star-plasma Vessel Arc, Canon compliant, Angst but I'm not Gege

Gojo Satoru is a little shit. OC's are a dynamic duo as well. We meet the last targets and find out more about the cursed objects.

WC: 3.75K | on AO3 here.

"Shit, what the hell?" Shiori said, as she fell ass-first on the snow for the tenth time. "How are you so goddamn fast?" She had barely been able to reinforce her arms with cursed energy before he threw a high kick at her, knocking her off her feet and onto the ground. Gojo had briefly explained his techniques, but never mentioned it made him move at the speed of light or anything of the sort.

It was early in the morning. They were outside, Nanami was sitting down on the porch sipping tea peacefully, watching the whole scene, as Gojo trained Shiori on the basics in protecting herself from strikes using cursed energy. She had already demonstrated her innate cursed technique, but it was clear she had no fine control over the specifics of it — if it always had the corrosive element or not, how much cursed energy was spent, how long it took for exploding, and how strong each grenade would be. This was unexpected, considering she had a pretty good grasp on cursed energy manipulation for defending herself or even imbuing objects.

"Well, you've got a defense, and you can actually take a hit. That's good." He said, putting his hands on his waist and tilting his head to the side. "But do you know how to hit someone?"

"Not much, that was my brother's strong suit, not mine." She admitted, starting to worry if she'd survive this "training" session. Shiori wondered if he was just looking for an excuse to kick her ass for calling him 'pretty boy' earlier.

"So, let's try that. Come, hit me." He said. "Come on... Here. Here. Hit here." He pointed at his hand stretched forward, like he was talking to a five-year-old.

This dude can't be for real, Shiori thought, as she got up and punched his hand. It was a terrible, limp and poorly executed punch overall.

"I meant with cursed energy, though I don't think cursed energy could've saved whatever that was."

"Well, why didn't you say so!?" She started pouting. "Your teaching skills are terrible."

"Speaking of which, surprise quiz time!" He said. She started asking herself if it was really worth the trouble. "Question number one, what do we have for breakfast today?"

"Eh?!" She couldn't believe that. "Are you serious?!"

"Terribly." He replied.

"Well, nothing. There is nothing anymore." She said, sighing deeply.

"Precisely! And why is that?" Gojo asked, putting on a 'very serious teacher' voice.

"Because you ate everything!"

"No, wrong answer! Because you have no money for groceries and still refuse to work as a jujutsu high employee with us!"

She threw a better punch imbued with cursed energy directly at his face, hitting the infinity. "I'm poor, leave me alone!"

"Well, that's a little more like it!" Gojo said, smiling lively. "But your attacks are still half-assed as hell. You should focus on defense for now." He cleared his throat. "You know, about the food, people need potions if they want to have MANA!"

"Fine, let's go to town and buy something to eat!" She yelled, walking away, cursing Gojo under her breath.

"Why are you insisting she goes to Jujutsu High, even though her family and the institution have a terrible relationship, and after she explicitly told you she doesn't want to?" Nanami asked, putting his tea cup away.

"Well, I have a dream, and to fulfill it, I'm going to need good allies." He pointed in her direction. "Her combat skills are awful, but she's got potential as a healer. I'd like to see if she can learn reverse cursed technique from Shoko. This apparently is something that occurred more frequently in her clan, according to Ijichi's findings."

Nanami could see Gojo was brewing something. He definitely wasn't the same Satoru Gojo that failed Riko Amanai years ago — Gojo was growing into a fine sorcerer. Maybe Nanami could respect him a little, after all.

"Now, let's go, Nanamin! Did you know that pastry making is more suited for cold weather? Yes! That is why-" Gojo started blabbing about food and customs to each location, and what he wanted to eat before they left Odate. Nanami sighed as he changed his mind.

***

"Please, could you do it?" Shiori asked.

"No." Nanami replied.

"Please? Even if I promise I'll stop calling you a stalker?" She said, trying to convince him.

They were outside Odate Ryokan, and Shiori's phone was dead. She didn't want to go in to ask for Yoko to lend her some money, wanting to avoid encountering Yoko's grandmother. Nanami thought that was foolish and refused to help. Gojo was behind a wall of girls fawning over him and heard nothing of the conversation.

"I'm listening." He said.

"You just have to go inside and let her know 'her friend' is outsi-"

The hotel's door opened, and Yoko came out. "Shiori! I thought I heard your voice!" She said, as she hugged her friend.

"Yoko! Hi! I need to borrow some money!" She exclaimed, hugging Yoko back.

"Again?! And also, you're terrible, at least ask me how I'm doing first!" Yoko replied, somewhat offended.

"I'll pay you back, I promise!" Shiori said, with a wide smile on her face.

"Oh, I have heard that so many times before..." Yoko replied. She finally noticed Nanami was there. "Oh, hey! I'm so sorry for what happened here at the hotel."

"I have recovered fully." He answered.

"Well... Where are you staying?! We can pay for any hotel in the area. Please, accept it as our apology."

Nanami pointed at Shiori. "At her house."

"What?!" Yoko said, incredulous, as she thought he would only be getting treatment for his wounds and wait for his colleague there. She then turned her face into a mischievous smile and approached Shiori. "So, he is sleeping at your house?"

"I'll slap you." Shiori retorted, annoyed.

Yoko chuckled. "Just teasing you." She gave Shiori a little forehead flick.

"Hey, how about you pay me for his stay at my house?"

"Never gonna happen." Yoko said. Shiori had no talent for money making. "Uh, and what about him?" Yoko said, pointing to Gojo, that was still getting fawned over. The girl screaming around was loud.

"Hey, pretty boy, come over!" Shiori yelled. "Let's go grab something to eat."

Satoru waved, as if he was saying goodbye to his loyal fans, and moved over to meet them. The group of girls left disappointed. "So, what are we eating? I'm starving!"

"Well, there is a great bakery just around the corner that serves amazing options for breakfast!" Yoko replied. "Should we go there?"

"About that..." Shiori replied, grabbing her empty wallet.

Yoko sighed. "Fine, I'm paying for you. But only you!"

"It's ok! Pretty boy and stalker guy can foot their own bill!" Shiori said smiling, while pointing to Gojo and Nanami.

"Please, stop calling me that." Nanami said.

"Stalker?" Yoko asked, puzzled.

"Well, I can start calling you 'side bangs' if you would prefer." Shiori retorted jokingly.

"I would not." Nanami responded, irritated.

"So 'stalker' it is!" She concluded, grinning widely.

Gojo and Yoko were at a loss for what was happening.

They made their way into another restaurant, which had similar features as the previous one Shiori and Nanami had been at. They all sat at the table and placed their orders.

"So, are you two private investigators?" Yoko asked.

"Yes, they are." Shiori replied.

Yoko looked at Nanami, seemingly puzzled. "Aren't you a little too young to be investigating people dying? Also, I thought these people died because they were bitten by a venomous animal. What is the investigation?" Yoko was a very curious person, and never really thought much before speaking. It was a family trait.

"He's... The intern." Shiori answered.

"That's right! He's my promising intern looking for a position at my private investigation business." Gojo answered, putting his arm over Nanami's shoulders with a smirk on his face. Nanami sighed.

"Oh, I see." Yoko answered. "But why are private investigators looking into this, anyway?"

"One of the deceased's widowers asked us to see if there was any foul play." Nanami promptly made up on the spot. Gojo and Shiori were impressed.

"Oh. And there was?"

"We unfortunately can't disclose that information." He answered.

"Hey, Yoko, stop interrogating them." Shiori said, smiling uncomfortably. "Their work seems so stressful already, how about we talk about something else, shall we?"

Yoko was disappointed, but nodded. "It's just that nothing interesting ever happens here!"

"Yoko, 9 people died." Shiori said, stunned.

"That wasn't interesting, that was terrifying. Having private investigators around, however, is something interesting." Yoko started pouting.

"Yoko, nothing interesting happens to you because you're still in Odate working for your family with that old hag on your case." Shiori said as their food arrived. Yoko was frowning and seemed slightly offended, but knew her friend was right.

Gojo had ordered an assortment of sweets, meanwhile Nanami ordered his classic deli sandwich. Shiori and Yoko both ordered a bread basket with different types of toppings to put on. Shiori did her previous 'mix absolutely everything you can', taking a spoonful out of each topping, putting it over some toasts in a profane way and began eating the desecrated bread, eliciting the same appalled look from everyone at the table. How can she taste anything?

With her mouth full, Shiori started speaking again. "And Odate is boring, anyway. After Shiro is back, I'm going to travel. I've never been to the beach!"

"What? Noshiro is very close, like an hour and a half away from here." Gojo replied, a little incredulous.

"I know! It's just that..." Shiori sighed, embarrassed. "I'm always broke." She smiled as Yoko facepalmed.

"Shiori, why are you still in Odate?" Yoko asked. "Anyway, at least something exciting happened to you! You're fostering two good-looking men in your house."

Shiori nearly gagged. "Yoko, what the hell?!" Gojo was very pleased with himself behind his glasses, and Nanami awkwardly moved around in his seat while looking away, nearly blushing. She really had no filter.

"What?!" Yoko protested.

Shiori sighed. "Yoko, it’s not appropriate to comment on someone’s appearance to their face." She replied.

“I see no problem if it’s a compliment.” Yoko retorted, crossing her arms and lifting an eyebrow as she looked at the guys. Gojo was even more pleased, and Nanami felt even more embarrassed.

Shiori sighed yet again, and decided not to address that. "And I'm only waiting for Shiro to come back. I know he will."

Yoko looked at her with a hint of concern in her face as they all started to eat.

***

"So, what do you think we should say? The truth?" Shiori asked, as she accompanied Gojo to Ayako's house. Nanami went to see how the situation was at Miyuki's house. They got a call from Ijichi shortly after breakfast, who gave them their locations.

"Whatever will make her let us in and help." He responded. "Don't you know these people?"

"I had so many relatives. These two particularly, I don't remember, since I was very young when I stopped having any relationship with the family. My brother and I just received some financial aid from an aunt that died around 2 years ago. They might know who I am, though." She shrugged. "Even if we don't get to do anything, I believe we should tell them they're in danger and that they should go to the police for protection or something."

"Maybe, maybe not." Gojo replied.

"Why is that?" Shiori asked.

"The curse user. He's killing these people and clearly doesn't have much of an issue invading enclosed spaces. He might even be using his shikigami for that."

"I see. What do we do, then?"

"We kick his ass and take him to Jujutsu High. Or kill him." He answered. Gojo had that same menacing aura as he said that, even though his face was covered with a frivolous smile. This guy must be monstrously powerful, Shiori thought.

"And about the cursed object thing..." He started saying.

"Rescue ladies first. Find my brother second. Every information you could hope for third." She replied, fearing for her physical integrity as she did. The world was definitely lucky this guy wasn't a genocidal maniac.

He just sighed and answered "Fine." Gojo thought for a moment. "That girl, Yoko, is she a close friend?"

"Yes. She's actually my best and only friend." Shiori responded. "We've been friends since middle school, when kids used to bully me and my brother because of my family. Yoko stood up for me." She said, smiling to herself.

"I see." He answered, reminiscing his own school life and most recent events for a moment. Satoru sighed silently.

"She has a lifelong crush on my brother, even if her comments about you and Nanami didn't make it seem like it." Shiori chuckled. "Those two are really something."

Gojo laughed softly. "Your friend is definitely a little loony." He then changed his tone to something more serious. "Shiori, what will you do if your brother never comes back?" Gojo asked, looking at her directly.

"He will come back." She answered straight-up. Even if Shiori was saying that, though, she had said that so many times it started to sound fake.

"You don't know that. What if you're stuck here forever, always holding onto people who left, when you could be doing something better with your life and your abilities?"

Shiori was silent. She knew exactly why she never left Odate, or her parents' house, for that matter, even when all of her uncles, aunts, cousins and such were going away to live their lives in other places all throughout Japan.

As they got to the door to knock, they saw the lock was bust open.

"Shit!" Shiori exclaimed.

They both bolted inside, and saw a woman with long black hair lying on the ground over a puddle of blood. Beside her, was the already familiar wooden box, completely empty. Shiori crouched beside her to check her pulse. There were cursed energy remains all over, and some holes in the walls around, covered with a thick black corrosive substance — the same type Shiori's grenades would leave behind.

"Gojo, she's still alive!"

When she rolled the woman's body, it was possible to see that Ayako had no bite marks on either wrist, but a deep cut in her torso area, which had just barely missed her internal organs. Shiori turned her with the stomach area up, so the blood would stop leaking to the floor, and started trying to wake her up. The woman wasn't moving.

"You, go after the one who did this!" She shouted. "I'll take care of her and call an ambulance. Go!"

Satoru ran outside and focused on trying to find someone, but the surrounding area was already empty. Nothing, not even cursed energy traces for him to follow. Given how they found Ayako, the curse user didn't use his technique this time around. He went back inside the woman's house, and saw that Shiori had already packed her wounds with some gauze she found. She was applying pressure and had the woman's blood all over her coat.

The lady started to wake up, just barely.

"Ms. Ayako, stay with me. Stay awake!" Shiori shouted.

"Hm... Who, Itsuki?" Ayako was slowly coming back to her senses.

"No, it's Shiori."

"You... Itsuki's daughter?"

"Yes! Good to see you're awake. Stay with me." Shiori was still keeping pressure on the wounds.

"Who did this?" Shiori asked.

"Sh… Shogo…"

Shiori tensed up immediately. "Shit." She looked at Gojo. "Call Nanami."

***

Nanami knocked on Miyuki's door, and the woman promptly answered. Shiori had instructed him to use her parents' name if necessary, or even her own, to gain the woman's trust in order to help her.

"Hello, how can I help you?" she asked.

"Hello, Ms. Miyuki. My name is Nanami Kento, and I'd like to talk to you about something regarding Yamada Itsuki."

She got visibly tense and stared at him for a few moments.

"Why?"

"Her daughter, Shiori, asked me to come and see if you were fine." He replied. "And you might be in danger. You probably know about the recent deaths occurring in Odate."

She was still very unsure about opening her door and letting him in.

Nanami's phone rang. He answered, it was Gojo.

"Gojo, I just got here at Ms. Miyuki's house."

"Tell her she is in danger, and that the culprit's name is Yamada Shogo. Ayako was hurt pretty badly and was nearly dead when we arrived here." He replied.

Nanami stared at Ms. Miyuki. "Do you know an individual by the name Yamada Shogo?"

She widened her eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Apparently, he just attacked Yamada Ayako. Do you know her?"

Miyuki's face was hard to read, but she seemed to be... angry? "Yes, I do." She inhaled deeply and closed the door. Nanami called out to her, and she simply screamed from inside the house for him to leave her alone. He sighed.

"Gojo, please ask Shiori to come." Nanami said on the phone.

"She is holding the woman in one piece here." Gojo replied.

"Hey, you just have to apply pressure. Come here!" Shiori yelled at Gojo. She grabbed the phone and started talking. "Tell me, what is going on there? Is everything ok?"

"For now, yes, but she didn't let me in. I believe it would be better if you sorted this out with your relative."

"Ok, I'll be there soon." She replied.

"What? What do I do here then?!" Gojo asked on the other side.

"Just keep applying pressure until the ambulance arrives so she doesn't bleed out! Have you never had any basic first aid training in your life, and you're a jujutsu sorcerer?!" Shiori yelled, incredulous.

"I've never had to learn that! That is not what I do, I fight and use reverse cursed technique on myself!" Said the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer of our era.

"Well, just do something about it! Nanami, I'm on my way right now." She said as she hung up the phone. Shiori then removed her coat and left it covering Ayako's legs, trying to provide some warmth. "You will be fine, okay? I'm leaving now, but I already called an ambulance." Shiori said beside Ayako.

As she was getting up, Ayako grabbed the end of Shiori's sleeve. "You're... Itsuki's daughter?"

"Yes, I am."

"Be... careful." Ayako said.

Shiori and Gojo looked at each other, and she seemed concerned. Ayako was drifting in and out of consciousness. Shiori finally made her way out of the door.

***

"Well, this is bad." Miyuki said as she lit up a cigarette. She opened the door as soon as Shiori got there and told her everything Nanami said was true.

"You're really in danger, Miyuki." Shiori said. "We need to get you out of here as soon as possible."

Miyuki was a woman in her early 40s, with the same black hair and green eyes that Shiori had — there was a clear family resemblance. She got up, went inside her bedroom, and came out holding the same wooden box the other Yamadas had. She handed it to Shiori. "Please, take this and leave."

"Miyuki, you're not listening. If you stay, you will die, having this around or not!"

"I have my unresolved business with Shogo, though." She answered, furious. "How does he know all that, anyway? Everyone that he has to go after?"

"I don't know, but I don't think it matters." Shiori replied. "What unresolved business?"

"Do you know why he was cast out from the family?" Miyuki asked.

"No."

"Well, then. Let me tell you." She inhaled deeply. "Well, the Yamada family and the Jujutsu Society run by Tengen are not on good terms. That is because a member of the golden clans got our family's leader killed centuries ago, and Tengen thought it'd be better to just let it go instead of taking action and punishing someone. So you can imagine the disappointment we felt when Shogo was working alongside them. Worse, retrieving our cursed objects for them, right under our noses!"

Shiori and Nanami were silent, taking in the relevance of all that just had been said.

"Well, that's not all of it, though. He relayed the information about the veil realm to those little shits. So, we cast him out and had to disband the entire family." Miyuki looked at Shiori and sighed. "I never got the chance to tell you, but I'm truly sorry for your parents leaving."

"Veil realm?" Nanami asked.

Shiori was taken aback. Clearly, her parents left to protect her and her brother, as well the cursed object Miyuki had just mentioned. She took a few moments to ground herself back to the conversation after hearing everything Miyuki told them. "Yes." Shiori said. There was not much of a leverage anymore. "Veil realm."

Miyuki started explaining. "It's a special grade object that has infinite space for storage of curses and cursed objects once you open it, but, to open it, you need 15 different keys. We have been passing them down generation after generation." She pointed to the box. "Mine is in there. We all take a binding vow to give them to our first child as soon as they are born, just to be sure it is kept within the family."

"I know." Shiori answered. She pulled her own key from inside her clothing. "I keep mine with me all the time."

"Where?" Miyuki asked.

Shiori blushed. "None of your business." She sighed. "And there is no changing your mind?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"We can use this to our advantage, then." Nanami said. Shiori looked at him, incredulous, as she realized what he meant by that.

"You can't possibly be suggesting using her as bait!" Shiori said angrily, looking at him.

"That is not a bad idea, actually." Miyuki said. "And I can hold my own pretty well. I have our inherited cursed technique, melt grenade."

" Me too." Shiori answered. "But this is still a bad idea."

"Ms. Miyuki, we're in the middle of a residential area. You can't use that very effectively to defend yourself without collateral damage or attracting too much attention." Nanami replied. Ayako clearly had tried and failed miserably.

"Oh, true." She replied. "What do you suggest, then?"

"Just come to my house. We can sort this out there. And when he comes, we will be ready." Shiori said. She looked at Nanami. "What do you think?"

"It's a plan." He replied.

End notes:

To avoid postponing posting this one, I just decided to not proofread it to exhaustion. It is written, it is here, and if it has anything poorly written, I'm sorry, but I won't be going back to fix it anytime soon 😅

3 notes · View notes

psychewritesbs · 1 year

Text

Tsukumo Yuki—Supernova, Twin Star and Jocasta

I am not sure how this turned into a chosoyuki meta but... let’s talk about chapter 208.

First: What the hell happened?

Second: What the hell happened?!!!!!!

Third: How does this moment land flat when it was most likely meant to hit hard? Gege is, after all, a genius at executing poetic justice.

But Yuki’s “death” was just... blah AND annoying.

So I decided to do mental gymnastics to try to understand the whole backstory that Gege only showed us briefly and that is written between the lines.

That said, this post is heavy headcanon influenced by canon and uses symbol analysis to fill in the blanks.

TLDR; I’m not entirely sure how this became a chosoyuki meta.

Depth Psychology 101: What is an Archetype?

Before we get started I thought it would be smart to define the word “Archetype”.

In extremely simplified simple words, an Archetype is a pattern of thought or behavior that is repeated across people and cultures throughout the world. The Archetypes are all “found” in what Swiss Psychiatrist Carl Jung called “The Collective Unconscious”--basically a massive pool of unconscious psychic material that all of humanity shares.

Just as a brief side note, the space between dreaming and waking that Kenny walks into in chapter 160, and Megumi’s shadow (at least from the Jungian perspective) both have “access” to this Collective Unconscious.

An example of an Archetype is “Jesus Christ”, an Archetype that is also seen in the Egyptian God Osiris. If you aren’t aware of their similarities, I recommend you go read about the topic.

Another example is the Sun. Since the Sun was a common experience to peoples of different cultures across the world, as an Archetype, it becomes a symbol that can have many different interpretations--one of the most common interpretations is that the Sun illuminates and gives life both psychologically as a concept, and physically as a literal object in our 3D reality.

This idea that the Sun can have a psychological influence on our minds as a concept is very important because Archetypes influence our minds through symbol AND operate underneath your conscious awareness. In other words, most of the time, you don’t even realize when you are being psychically and physically influenced by an Archetype.

Like Urie here getting eaten by a literal “devouring mother”.

Ok, that was extremely simplified but... moving on.

Yuki as Sun

Aside from the obvious interpretation that Yuki is, literally, a “star plasma vessel”, not to mention that the chapter titles in this recent arc all refer to “stars and oil”, there is other symbolism that Gege uses that ties Yuki to the concept of a “Star as a celestial body”.

The clue relies on surface understanding of Garuda’s symbolism, Yuki’s Shikigami.

Originally, Garuda is a mythological figure from Hindu and Buddhist lore that is renowned throughout Asia. In Hindu mythology more specifically, Garuda is known as a destroyer of sin and as the God Vishnu’s vehicle.

Since JJK’s Garuda is Yuki’s “tool” in much the same way the mythological creature is a tool for a God, I am going to associate Yuki’s power to be meant to be comparable to Vishnu’s in the JJK-scheme-of-things.

Now, amongst many other associations, the God Vishnu is known as “the preserver” because he maintains the order of the universe. But more importantly, he is also known as a solar deity.

So think of how all of the planets in our solar system are held at just the right distance from the Sun due to its gravitational force, and now consider how Yuki has been shown to use her Cursed Technique combining the concepts of mass and gravitational force.

She’s so fucking badass why did she have to die why god why?!

Now, let’s add a new layer beyond the obvious association to a Sun: Yuki as a dying Sun.

Yuki as Supernova

A black hole is basically formed when “[a star/sun] becomes unable to withstand the compressing force of its own gravity...”

“Stellar-mass black holes are born with a bang...”

“...They form when a very massive star (at least 25 times heavier than our Sun) runs out of nuclear fuel. The star then explodes as a supernova. What remains is a black hole” (source).

So what we have is Yuki sacrificing herself by ending her own lifespan as a Sun to create a black hole.

And this is where it gets really interesting to me because, as the mental gymnastics anime girl, psychological symbol analysis is my jam. What I’m interested in here is in learning what psychic process the symbol in question represents in the characters.

Huh?

Supernova as a metaphor for the sense of self

JJK can be very spiritual.

Not only does it present symbolism from many different religions, thus demonstrating an awareness of the vast diversity of ways that the human desire for transcendence of the material world can be expressed.

But Gege’s use of cursed energy, introduction of curses as sentient beings, how the characters navigate their ego, and the esoteric themes in JJK are all transcendental in and of themselves.

So when I say JJK is Jungian af, I don’t say that lightly.

All that to say is that, to understand Yuki on a deeper level, we need to look at the Supernova not just as a strictly physical phenomenon, but as a symbol for reaching the pinnacle of one’s existence and sense of self.

After all, in a story like JJK where the strongest sorcerers have the strongest sense of self, Yuki’s sense of self basically burned so brightly that it consumed her--and I think there’s something very poetic about that.

I also personally loved learning that her will suppressed the intensity of the explosion. It’s almost like she was looking out for others up to her last moment as a conscious entity in this realm of existence.

And if you find yourself thinking: “wait, did he really just kill her?!”

Well, this is when things get a little... ok, yes, a lot disappointing.

“Because... what about her motivation as a character?!”

“Are you fudging kidding me?! What do you mean Gege just killed her off?!

What’s going to happen to her motivation? He can’t just make that storyline go *poof* and make it disappear!”

Ok, first of all Karen, yes he can, he’s the mangaka.

I’m Karen, I’m talking to myself here.

Second, because of her exalted role in the plot, and probably also very likely because she literally represents a Solar Archetype to which we all felt naturally drawn to (because that’s what archetypes do when in an unconscious state), we all took the bait and thought she was going to stick around for much longer than she did.

High expectations make for disappointment when not managed correctly.

So I’m not sure if this was master manipulation on Gege’s behalf or a happy accident. Basically after writing this meta, I like to think of Yuki as a masterclass on how to use an Archetype to define how an audience perceives a character.

But to address the Pink Elephant in the room, I can’t deny that in killing Yuki, Gege did indeed show us the deeply rooted unconscious expression of how Japanese society might view women as expendable creatures whose purpose is to become a sacrifice to support their male counterparts.

In my opinion, if this is the case, he probably didn’t even notice he was doing it.

The question is, if Yuki was a male character and Gege did kill this male character like he did with Yuki, would the story loose its meaning?

But back to JJK... because of the symbolism, I really do think Yuki was meant to be a character who Gege planned to kill from the beginning. Most especially because of two more Archetypes that could be at play here, which I will mention as the ramble progresses.

To wrap things up with Yuki...

The thing with Yuki as a Supernova that has metaphorically reached the pinnacle of it’s existence as a Solar entity, is that a Supernova is a transformational symbol that ushers one state of being into a new way of existence in a violent manner--its basically alchemy. So Yuki surviving this explosion is a matter of who and what she becomes next.

Is she perhaps still alive somehow and has she been changed as a result of such a massive and powerful explosion?

Will she become a ghost/curse that haunts Choso for the rest of his life?

Or will her legacy (motivation) live on through others?

And since JJK has been underscoring the importance of the “sense of self” ever since it’s humble beginnings, I can’t help but associate the Supernova with Yuki’s sense of self achieving some sort of pinnacle of existence.

“I long to feel my heart burned open wide til nothing else remains, except the fires from which I came”

- Nova, VNV Nation

I like to think of Yuki as someone who found deep peace within herself to where she could basically commit suicide because it was the right thing to do in that moment.

I also reckon Yuki had been searching for “something” that she was finally able to find in the moments before her death.

And if that isn’t poetic justice, then I don’t know what is.

The Twin Star archetype

This is a deep rabbit hole y’all. Mental gymnastics aren't even enough to begin to unravel the depth of the Twin Star archetype as it is used with chosoyuki because “incest” as an archetype is also at play with them.

In fact, here’s your official warning...

Things are about to get weird y’all, so keep an open mind or stop reading.

As a result, this headcanon gets even more headcanon because my personal interpretation of the supernova symbol also takes into consideration another major interpretation of “star” as symbol--that is the idea of a Twin Star or a lover’s fated encounter with their “match”--the beloved.

So if you’re following me down this rabbit hole... I welcome you into the realm of romantic soulmate bonds. This is where this whole ramble inadvertently and rather surprisingly turns into a chosoyuki ramble--not necessarily because I ship them, but because I would have liked to see more of this dynamic that was hinted at.

In the end, I think one of the main reasons the arc fell flat is because we didn’t get to see this dynamic fleshed out. The symbols are all there, but the execution ultimately fell short.

Moving forward, the thing to keep in mind is that Yuki isn’t the only one with Dying Star symbolism.

No, she has a Twin Star...

First, I cannot underscore how important it is to consider the circumstances in which these two Twin Stars came together. They’re Twin Stars after all, right?

They are a doomed OTP.

They can’t be together.

Which means one of them must die, better yet if it is in a double lover’s suicide attempt. And at this point in JJK, aside from Sukuna, is there anything more dangerous and suicidal than taking Kenny on?

Second, if you want to go even deeper into this crazy Twin Star symbolism rabbit hole, the sibling incest trope that Gege uses throughout JJK is, at an Archetypal level, a representation of the Hieros Gamos--the divine wedding which is sometimes represented by twins (or metaphorical twin stars in this case) and/or siblings.

**Please, I implore of anyone thinking that this means incest irl should be supported not to take the symbols literally. These symbols live beyond conscious awareness and are not to be taken literally but rather metaphorically.**

What JJK does is that it takes the symbol of the Twin Stars and the Alchemical Wedding of the siblings, and uses Yuki and Choso as literary carriers of the symbols.

In that sense, Yuki playing the imoto role is not just a kink or a trope, but a representation of an archetype--she’s one in a pair of Twin Stars.

The thing about the Twin Star pairing is that they are somewhat defined by the romantic longing for the other. The longing is so strong that it is even seen as a form of psychological “sickness”.

So I got to wondering if this is why Gege made the point of showing us a very peculiar trait about Yuki’s character... the fact that she would ask others about their type.

What’s your type (of woman)?

Sorry but...

When this man gets animated the internet is going to break...

But what does the question “what’s your type?” try to get at?

More importantly, what is the person answering that question trying to convey?

And like... if I’m honest, I LOVED Yuki verbalizing that her type is Choso. It’s a nice payoff to this question getting asked a bunch of times but never having a real concrete answer...

As for Yuki, the look on her face speaks a thousand words. I like to think that Yuki feels glad to have met Choso and has come into a sense of self in which she’s satisfied to have met her match as one of the many things that she sought to accomplish as part of her life journey.

That is not to say that Yuki was solely motivated by her romantic longing. Quite the opposite, if you look at the possible meaning of the kanji in her name, it speaks to a person who values and prioritizes her freedom as the basis for her sense of self (由 phonetically sounds like “yu” and is also used in the word “freedom” and 基 (ki) means “basis or foundation”).

I also love the way in which for every one of these panels of Yuki verbalizing what her type is, we get the corresponding picture of Choso embodying the qualities Yuki considers to be her type.

It’s kind of beautiful to watch this little sequence if I’m honest.

To add another fun layer to this, my favorite part about this whole thing is that we don’t get a soapy love declaration. Rather, even as she verbalizes who her type is, she’s completely and 300% unhinged during this whole battle sequence...

I think her capacity to let herself be consumed by her madness is one of my favorite things about Yuki because my favorite characters in JJK are always those that give themselves that range.

Shinjū--The Double Lover’s Suicide

But back to this idea that Choso and Yuki found each other under circumstances where one if not both of them could die...

“In Japanese theatre and literary tradition, double suicides are the simultaneous suicides of two lovers whose ninjo, (personal feelings) or love for one another are at odds with giri, social conventions or familial obligations” (wikipedia).

With chapter 208 we have a conversation about what it means to be and live as a human, and what it means to be and live as a curse. If you think about it, from this perspective alone, Choso and Yuki’s relationship is at odds with social conventions right from the start.

And when you see that whole setup they had going where it looked like they were just hanging around each other in the most ridiculous of setups... it’s hard not to think of this as michiyuki.

“The tragic denouement [of a double lover’s suicide story] is usually known to the audience and is preceded by a michiyuki, a small poetical journey, where lovers evoke the happier moments of their lives and their attempts at loving each other” (wikipedia).

I mean... Choso and Yuki were both literally going on little dates and wearing Black Tie while having casual and deeply intimate conversations about life while sipping on Dirty Martinis.

How much more michiyuki does it get than that?

To me, this is amazing writing, and one of the reasons I love JJK--the authorial intent behind the ridiculousness depicted always serves a purpose if you know where to look for clues.

Back to chosoyuki...

The thing to remember is that at the core of this interaction there is a sense of finality. I reckon Yuki was highly cognizant that if it came to it, she would have to do the whole “Supernova” thing and die in the process.

And to finally meet the person she had been longing for that she didn’t know she was longing for is what the Twin Star trope is all about.

In other words, Choso and Yuki found each other when the odds of living through a dangerous ordeal were at the lowest they could possibly be.

And if you think about this from the perspective of the “double lover’s suicide”, to take Kenny on is suicidal.

Ok but that’s not all there is to chosoyuki. The other Archetype defining their arc as individuals and as a pair is the Oedipus Rex myth.

And in true Oedipal fashion, Choso has to kill Kenny (his father) in order to be freed from his unconscious “incestuous” bond to his “sister” so that he could become human and enter into a human relational dynamic.

Yes... this rabbit hole just keeps going deeper...

Patricide and Choso’s Oedipal Complex

Regardless of how disappointing Yuki’s death was, the way Gege uses Archetypes/tropes in the narrative is nothing short of genius. In other words, the high level Archetypes he uses always influence and define a character arcs like I believe it happened with Yuki as Supernova and Twin Star.

And now Gege gave us the above panel with Choso deciding to commit patricide as a clue to what Archetype might be ruling his character development.

Also this is about the point in my mental gymnastics that I start to feel like I sound like a crazy person.

But like hey. The symbolism is all there, so I’m going to keep over analyzing because that’s how I roll.

Now...

For context, we will want to think of Choso as Oedipus Rex, everybody’s favorite incestuous patricidal mother focker. Literally.

The main difference between Oedipus as a character and Choso as a character is that the metaphorical marriage that Choso enters into is between brother and sister pair (Hieros Gamos), and not son and mother--thus denoting a certain level of equality.

Quick detour here to give you a friendly reminder to not take the symbols literally. These are all metaphors for deeply engrained and largely unconscious psychic processes and I do apologize profusely for not being able to ground these terms into everyday life terminology. IT’s NOT EASY!

In fact, this is one of the reasons why Jung and Freud parted ways in their shared understanding of how the Collective Unconscious influenced the psychology of the “modern man”.

Freud would interpret Choso’s symbolism as his desire to commit literal incest and sleep with his mom. Jung, on the other hand, asked for the symbols not to be taken literally but rather to apply meta thinking to them so that they could be looked at metaphorically.

To quote Jungian Analyst Julian David:

“That psychic incest spills over into actual incest is beyond doubt. It happens when an individual cannot distinguish between the realms and falls victim, therefore, to the law which governs the relation between psyche and reality: that what is not dealt with psychically comes upon us, from outside, as fate.”

This ramble got really deep all of a sudden... it was just a chosoyuki rant.

Back to Choso as Oedipus...

In a nutshell, from a Jungian perspective, the Oedipus Rex myth is about the interplay between human nature when up against the inevitability of fate and destiny. In that sense, Oedipus too is a symbol of consciousness (here we have the Sun as archetype at play in Choso once again).

In the story, Oedipus is compelled by fate and his own nature to kill his father and marry his mother. This alone makes me wonder whether Choso will be the one who kills Kenny in the very end.

But I think the most relevant detail here is the idea behind Choso living on as human.

Now, there's a lot more to the Oedipus Rex story that I am not sure how or whether it will have a role to play in the JJK-scheme-of-things moving forward. But one thing is for sure--when Oedipus finds and proclaims his humanity, Jocasta, his mother/wife, commits suicide.

I am not sure whether this is all a happy accident or deliberate authorial intent. But if it is the latter (which I really hope it is), I think Gege is a fucking genius for hiding the Oedipus Rex myth as a metaphor for Choso’s character development and Yuki’s ultimate and predictable death.

Of course, again, this is all what I headcanon could be written between the lines and I am aware that I am taking canonical facts to validate my headcanon. It’s just that the symbols are all there telling a story on their own.

TLDR;

Does it still suck that Yuki died? Absolutely. She was an amazing character. I’m still in denial about her death if I’m honest.

Was the chosoyuki arc well executed? Eh. Not really. Honestly, I have to wonder what happened with this little side story. It felt so rushed and forced and like it came out of left field that I have to wonder why it made the cut into the chapter at all.

Again, Gege went to town with the symbolism so I think there was a story he wanted to tell in the dynamic that these two characters shared if only for a short moment.

The problem was that Gege relied on symbolism to tell the story and didn’t take the time to show his audience a deeper reason to care for chosoyuki. Instead we get a few panels of “what could have been”.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t think chosoyuki makes sense. Quite the opposite, I personally would have liked to see more chosoyuki and not have it crammed into a few panels towards the end of an arc.

Was Gege in a rush?

Did he not know how to execute because he truly does think he sucks at writing romance?

Was he told not to include this side story by his editors?

Or Is Yuki as a character simply a victim of a Japanese man’s unconscious bias about women?

Or maybe... just maybe, the above is true, AND it goes deeper than that.

Whatever you decide, as Oedipus, it is your responsibility as a conscious being to make a choice as a human and decide whether you will be bound by your fate.

Boom.

To anyone who reads this, I hope the mental gymnastics made ANY sense lol.

I think my thesis advisor would have given me a B+ for this meta and then would tell me I need to understand Oedipus Rex better.

#chosoyuki #choso #tsukumo yuki #jujutsu kaisen meta #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen analysis #jjk analysis #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jjk spoilers #jjk ch 208

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animenewsplanet · 2 years

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Jujutsu Kaisen season 2: Everything we know about the new season so far

The second season of Jujutsu Kaisen is scheduled to air in 2023. Exciting isn't it? The smash hit anime of 2020/21 is set to enter its new arc, and on the heels of hit film Jujutsu Kaisen 0, more eyes than ever are on the adventures of Yuji and his friends.

Do you need a back base? Next, we run the next installment rule to keep it until the next year. We've also looked at the source material to get an idea of what might happen next. And that's just the beginning - for more, read on to learn everything we know so far about Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2. For more on Medium, you can also check out our curated list of the 15 Best Anime Series You Should Be Watching Right Now.

Jujutsu Kaisen season 2 will air in 2023

As confirmed during an event in Japan (H/T Crunchyroll(opens in new tab)), Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2 will be released in 2023. It can appear during one of three main anime release windows: Winter 2023 (from January 2023), Spring 2023 (from April 2023), or Fall 2023 (from October 2023).

If we had to invest money, we would say that it is most likely to be released in the fall of 2023. Not only did the original season begin in the fall window, but animation studio MAPPA has spent time working on Jujutsu Kaisen 0, Attack on Titan and the next Chainsaw Man. It's a tight schedule for any studio, and by early October 2023 they'll have plenty of time to deliver a second season that lives up to their absurdly high standards.

Chronicles of Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2: Which Chapters Can Be Adapted?

The first season of Jujutsu Kaisen ended with the conclusion of the Death Painting arc which began in chapters 55–64 of the manga. If the anime continues to line up the manga in the continuing order, the next will be Gojo's previous arc, which consists of chapters 65–79 of the manga.

It revolves around, you guessed it, Gozo's past, specifically a mission where Gozo and Gato lead a star plasma vessel to Tangen.

If so, the second season could be a patchwork of flashbacks to Gozo's past, a big next arc: the Shibuya Incident (chapters 79–136). We're not going to get into spoiler territory here, don't worry, but the Shibuya incident arc is all about Goto and his plan to shut down Goto led by his new cursed alliance.

It has more than enough material for a 25-episode second season and seems like the most likely scenario. The Season 1 finale may also indicate the same.

After defeating the cursed wombat Aso and Kechizu, Yuji and Nobara rejoin Megumi. However, Tsukuna, due to the anime placing his mouth on Yuji's hand, eats the finger, moving him one step closer to regaining his power.

Expect the new season to deal with this evil invader as well as the third cursed wombat triple, Choso, who allies himself with series villains Gato and Mahito.

Jujutsu High also has a mole's little thing, in which the Utahime teacher is looking for the tricky magician. This too will form a big part of the upcoming season.

Do I need to watch Jujutsu Kaisen 0 movie before season 2?

We'd definitely recommend it, but since the Jujutsu Kaisen 0 movie is a prequel to the main series, it's not necessary.

The film focuses on swordsman Yuta Okotsu, who, with a mild spoiler, will play a larger role as the jujutsu kaisen anime progresses. He's one of the most popular characters in the manga series, so you really should go and see what the fuss is all about.

There is also a post-credits scene that sets future events in the anime. It revolves around Yuta returning to Japan and joining the main series, although it is not yet known whether he will appear in Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2.

It's also worth looking at from a holistic perspective: it does away with the concept of the world and the curse-ridden universe, while also creating a fascinating story in its own right. It can probably be skipped if you're short on time, but we really encourage you to check it out.

Where can I watch Jujutsu Kaisen before Season 2?

If you need to catch up on Jujutsu Kaisen before Season 2, all 24 episodes of Season 1 are currently available to watch on Crunchyroll. Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2, Demon Slayer Season 3, and other hit anime are also expected to be able to stream exclusively on the streaming service.

#JujutsuKaisenSeason2 #JujutsuKaisen #JujutsuKaisenSeason2news #JujutsuKaisennews

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sandsorghum · 2 years

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No Rematches

Originally written for @fuwushiguro-tags First Kisses collab! Congrats on your blog's 1st year anniversary! Also a 1st for me creating a proper Gojo x Reader piece, he's a handful. Pairing: Gojo x GN!Reader Genre: Romance, Non-AU, pre-Star Plasma Vessel Arc events WC: 2.3k

"Hey, Late Bloomer."

The whistle of pellets persists unabated at his greeting, punctuated by thuds as they find their marks, smacking against the sandbags.

Gojo watches the grains trickle through the split open sack cloth, observes the perspiration beading on their assailant's brow. Most of the bags are pretty much decimated, there's at least a dozen holes in each of them. There's quite the beach at his feet. He steps forward.

"You're wasting time on static targets."

"At least they're silent."

"Banter's half the fun in battle, trust me. You'll get some real mouthy types out there."

"You don't say," you comment drily. Gojo grins, straightening up and shuffling his feet shoulder width apart.

"C'mon, I'm bored."

"Do I look like the next Nintendo DS to you?"

"Kinda. I'm done with Mario anyway. Help me help you. Your first mission's coming up, yeah?"

You glare at Gojo with his lackadaisical slouch, both smile and spine lopsided in an irritatingly smug way; it's the kind of posturing that betrays him. He's bouncing on his heels, itching for action in the taut line of his tendons.

"You're plotting to put me out of commission just so you can rack up your count and win that bet with Suguru."

"Please," Gojo drawls, and you can hear his eyes roll from all the way over at your end, even if it's obscured beneath those shades.

"Why would I bother breaking a sweat chasing after some third rate curses? It ain't worth the paperwork."

"You never do the paperwork."

"Exactly."

You flex your fingers, assessing his expression. His aura always found a way to annoy you, emanating bravado 24/7 - an energy even more consistent and potent than his personal force field.

Except that you know it's truly more affront than a front. There's authenticity to his audacity.

You've seen Gojo spar with Suguru often enough to understand that arrogance was unfortunately, warranted. But you can't comprehend why he couldn't be as humble or levelheaded as his fellow prodigy.

He's been like that since the day you met him.

"Gojo Satoru."

Less an introduction, more an assertion. Of what, you didn't know. Though you'd picked up on the emphasis, heavy on the front of his declaration, tongue bending with the weight of some history you couldn't care less about. He'd said it like you should.

Mr Eponymous. Ridiculous. You detested him immediately.

The way he cocks his head at you now is reminiscent of the way he did back then, inquisitive, no - invasive. Despite Yaga providing your peers all the necessary basic details, like what to call you, mere moments earlier.

"No last name?"

Different from how the cops usually asked, there had been a whole paradigm shift in the scrunch of his brows. A world expanding, like continental fissures across his face as his eyes crinkled. You feel tiny amidst his cerulean scrutiny. Microscopic as krill within those oceanic orbs.

You've learned the hard way, it's impossible to dispel Gojo of his fixations. Like one of those delinquents who have sunk too much pocket change into an arcade game, those claw machine types. Getting into an argument with him was more draining than a full blown battle - at any rate, at least the latter would be over quicker.

With an exasperated sigh, you slide your hands into your satchel.

"Don't ask for a rematch."

"I won't."

Something flashes through the room, slicing his smirk off before it can fully spread on that insufferable face. He recoils for a split second, but then those lips curl even higher up his canines. You were serious.

This was going to be fun.

A flurry of projectiles swoop toward him, colliding with his Infinity. They crater in on themselves upon impact, falling into the sand with a crunch.

Except that they don't.

Gojo looks down, surprised at the lack of sound. The floorboards are swirling and stretching like a whirlpool, churning in a way wood shouldn't be able to. There's a weight on his ankles, dragging him in.

He jerks his head back up but it's too late, you've already dropped out of his periphery. There's a whoosh as your leg strikes out in a wide arc, and cursed energy is crackling up his calves. It stings, but it's not enough to fell him. Gojo leaps, your fingers snatch air, palms slapping down. He hovers a few feet above the floor, reclining against a wall, relaxed smile tipping his mouth back.

"What happened to banter being half the fun, Gojo?" you taunt, throwing several discs in his direction. He dodges them easily, or doesn't rather, as they bounce harmlessly off of him, ricocheting to bite into the beams on his left and right, sending splinters flying.

"Oi, Late Bloomer. Don't be such a disappointment, trying the same thing twice-"

The sack cloths hurtle toward him before he can finish his jibe and Gojo cackles; How frustrated must you be to attempt something that futile? But then he's abruptly aware of a desperate scratchiness at his throat, he's coughing, lungs filling up with his hubris and what feels like half the Sahara-

That damn sand.

He's spitting furiously to get the nasty grit out, that and the pettiness of your trick, it tastes like Shit- Suddenly there's the same suctioning sensation from earlier, his eyes dart over his shoulder - sure enough, the wooden walls are refusing to comply with the rules of physics again. When had his shoes returned to the ground?

He jerks his head back, eyes widening, the knife of your hand thrusts far too close to his nose, threatening and triumphant as it's about to connect- then Gojo taps your torso once.

It's like a punch to the gut as you're repelled across the room, distantly aware of the howling and creaking of the breaking boards as it takes on the brunt of Gojo's tempered burst of energy. The sandbags welcome you with a distinct whumph as you crash into them with a maximum of inelegance only you can manage, gravity cradling your aching body once more. Gojo saunters over.

"Ooh, Yaga's gonna wanna have words about this mess."

"Your mess," you hiss, gingerly propping yourself up on your elbows.

Gojo absently scrapes his sneakers along the floor, compacting more sand into the slats. "That ended sooner than expected."

You snap your mouth shut against the barbed retort, a lazily veiled one at that - you're not going to let Gojo trick you again.

Instead you say as you sit up, "Well, we agreed earlier. No rematches."

Gojo notes the prim purse of your lips and feels his own curl without restraint at the sight. Stooping, he sneers, "How very sporting of you."

"I'm tired," you state tersely, brushing dust and detritus off your sleeves.

Gojo crouches down, the palm cupping his cheek exaggerating his pout. "If this is your level of stamina, that's really worrying ya know."

You make the mistake of glaring at Gojo. His white lashes flutter with faux concern, pity pooling as unfairly pretty hues in his already mesmerizing blues. Damn him. Only Gojo Satoru could make looking down on someone look this good.

"I've had enough of you." You avert your gaze, willing your own eyes to reflect the ashes of exhaustion rather than any spark of defiance.

"Well, fair enough," Gojo sighs. "It is me we're talking about."

Trust Gojo to parade his guise of self-awareness as self-aggrandizement. Typical.

You snort - then wince shortly after, feeling a strange twinge in your solar plexus where Gojo's finger had prodded you. Just for an instant.

Those traits really were the same side of the coin for Gojo, you can't begrudge him that. But you don't have to tolerate it either.

"When aren't you talking about you," you mutter as you stand. "Anyway, clean up this place before Principle Yaga complains."

"But there's sand everywhere," Gojo whines. "And it's your fault-"

"You're the one who challenged me."

"Well, that wasn't much of a challenge anyway, hardly a skirmish-" Gojo cuts himself off, or rather your glare does. Throwing literal daggers at him wouldn't do you any good, but the ones shooting from your eyes seem to do the trick, temporarily.

"Can't you just magnetize and gather up the grains with your..." You make a vague gesture in the air.

Gojo chuckles, "You want me to use my all-powerful technique like a vacuum?"

"Listen pretty boy, I know the concept of chores and personal responsibility is fairly foreign for you but sucking should be familiar enough territory so stop procrastinating."

You take a moment to enjoy Gojo's stunned silence at your spiel, his delicate brows furrowing like the tributaries of an estuary, amusement slowly seeping into his sapphire pools.

Then his grin bursts wide, glittering and splitting through like a spring torrent, a river swollen with snow-cap melt.

"You think I'm pretty?" he coos as he leans forward, and you've never wanted to bite your tongue off more. Or maybe his.

"You know I meant that as an insult, right?"

Gojo gets closer, too close. As usual. "But still, you called me pretty."

With great reluctance, you can't help but feel a tinge of admiration for Gojo's oblivious optimism.

"Even if I did, don't think you can skate by with your appearances. Your technique isn't all powerful either."

"What advice does someone who's never fought a curse user before have for me, hm? I'd love to hear it."

Gojo knows, from watching you reside in the corners of rooms, how you sheath your shoulder blades against concrete walls, that you find comfort in the abrasive embrace of asphalt and mortar. That the dirt and gravel and rubber of the school's race tracks are surfaces too soft for you, even baked and cracked beneath the sun.

Life-or-death duels and street brawls have enough in common, you're not a complete novice. You know he knows this. A boy with the complexion of crepe paper, skin never before mottled by a bruise, who brusquely asked about the nicks lurking in the nooks of your knuckles, who brazenly stares at the scars scattered in the crags of your fists. His fascination would flay anyone else apart, people shred themselves thin for his short-lived attention. But you, you have too many knots along your nape. Secrecy was a muscle you kept corded.

He's nothing more than a boy sitting behind you with the braid twined round his fingers, and a pair of scissors in his other hand. It's an exercise in tolerance, learning to ignore the tug at the base of your skull, the thump beneath your ribs whenever you're alone with him.

"Doesn't matter who the opponent is," you find yourself answering. Gojo tilts his head to the side, as if he's actually attentive. There's less bristle in your tone than he expected, something approaching solemnity.

"You've got good eyes, I shouldn't have to tell you of all people but," Your hand hovers in front of his face for a moment, nails pricking against his cheek. When had he let you get this near? "Blind spots are what matter in battle."

You hold up your index; a single splinter nestled in the whorls of your finger pad.

"It's especially dangerous if a massive ego is blocking the view."

Gojo's gaze narrows, lips thinning as well. You're close enough now to see your smile reflected in his shades.

"Even someone like you is vulnerable to sneak attacks."

And then your head jerks forward to eradicate the distance, you feel him freeze before the actual collision of your lips, cursed energy crackling to resemble a winter lake snapping beneath the burden of a gentler season blossoming across sheets of ice.

Except that all Gojo really feels is a puff of warmth, the scorch and scorn of summer in your breathy exhale, barely half an inch from his lips. He doesn't know, between the two of you, who stopped first.

"See?"

You'll have time later to chastise yourself for how shaky your laugh sounds, but for now you'll relish the way Gojo's lips twitch wordlessly, simultaneously sampling and savouring temptation. Then, he smirks.

"Is it really me who's in a vulnerable position?"

Your grin is lascivious and vicious, the glint off your incisors reflecting something carnivorous in your dark eyes, prowling low in the thicket of your lashes. Desire coils in his gut, he's never craved any sensation quite like this, of knowing how it would feel for those perilous points of yours to prick and sink into the plush of his bottom lip.

"Can't you tell?" you sneer, and then you squeeze.

You feel his pulse rocket beneath your fingertips even before the heated gale of his hitched gasp, heralding the taut flex of his throat where you've got your thumb lodged, right against his hyoid bone. You could curl your palm tighter around his neck, but there's something satisfactory in letting the pressure linger across Gojo's tender skin as his Adam's apple bobs, as you feel his anticipation swell and subside and swell in shallow breaths, when Gojo swallows his trademark oh so smart retorts.

"Cat got your-"

The crush of Gojo's mouth against yours is everything you expected, and didn't. Clumsy, feral, eager to make a claim. His hands rove wild, clutching your sides then roaming to grip the tufts at your nape, angling your head back to better anchor his lips against yours. You'd underestimated him there - his capacity for strategy, or perhaps it was all pure instinct, going by the aggressive probing of his tongue.

But enthusiasm is no compensation for skill, you won't allow Gojo to overpower you the way he does with everything else. Domination isn't the name of this game. You fight back, as you've always done.

It's a different kind of coarseness from the sand earlier, that he finds flooding his mouth. The stubborn push of your lips gives way to the scrape of teeth, punishing and coaxing all at once, till the low, hungry groan is lured from his lungs. But then you're rewarding him, how's he supposed to resist, when your cunning tongue stripes infernos along the hollows of his cheek?

To you, triumph must taste like the cinders of his desperation, and for once in his life, Gojo thinks he can accept the forfeiture of a battle.

#gojo x you #jjk headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru #gojo satoru hcs #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo headcanons

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ignitification · 3 years

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Dissecting What-thefuck-Ever is Happening in Jujutsu Kaisen

Am I crazy? Am I going mad? Is this manga making me delusional? All of this are valid hypothesis. However, onto the content, because I'm confused and trying to give shape to whatever my mind is thinking.

The last couple of chapters really put my English comprehension skills to test: not because I don't get it, but all the different details and the shades which Gege uses to describe and entwine things is so subtle that sometimes I am afraid that the translation does not give it justice. And kudos anyways to those who put this into words, because this is one big mess on 'insert weird jujutsu thing'.

This New Arc (The Culling) is probably one of the most difficult, in terms of events and storyline, arcs in the story. Fair enough, Shibuya was pretty complicated, as events were happening at the same time - but in the end, Shibuya lasted about five hours and that was it. The Culling has origins which go back in centuries, and only that makes it interesting, dangerous and maddening to think about.

One thing which I want to mention before anything else, because I know that I will forget otherwise, is the sentence which Tengen repeats twice in Chapter 145.

Per his saying, he cannot read the Human Heart, once in reference to Yuki, and the other in reference to Kenjaku. The weird thing is that this makes it clear that despite everything and the implications, Kenjaku - is still human at the end. He is physical, material and therefore he is not invincible. I am not sure if this was the intent behind this words (to let them know how Kenjaku is as human as them, and therefore it it possible to stop him) - but I still it has some sort of relevance. Also, this makes me question, whether Kenjaku's technique is limited to the brain and its knowledge, and what generally his technique is.

Tengen tells the Six Adventurers that Kenjaku is at least as old as Sukuna, and the two have been involved somehow. His objective is so force human evolution. And in order to do, he wants to boost up Japanese individuals (likely because of the amount of immense cursed energy present) - and to merge Tengen, who is now more cursed spirit than human, with humankind.

This is because the next stage of sorcery (and humanity, intrinsically), for Kenjaku, lies in optimising cursed energy. But in order to do so, the potential which human retain needs to be exploited fully. Therefore, people have to be aware that there is still potential to be discovered (next stage of human evolution).

The objective of the Culling Game therefore splits into two currents: cull the potential vessels to fuse with Tengen and spread cursed energy like wildfire (with the end goal being a new golden era, Heian Era) by applying the natural law of the survival of the fittest (searching for the one who could completely fuse with Tengen) and making Japan the cull of all cursed energy - which would potentially attract other cursed energy, from other countries (even if as we know it is extremely lower compared to Japan) and as Yuki potentially already guessed in Chapter 136 to make Japan a monopoly on cursed energy.

Another things which gets mentioned, but at the same time I am not entirely sure has anything to do with the things I am thinking of (and specifically Sukuna's fingers and the remains of the clan ancestors - if this is even a thing), however boundaries and restrictions (f.e. Heavenly Restriction that both Toji and Maki have) are a very big thing in Jujutsu Society and Sorcery. A blatant example is the pact that Sukuna made with Yuuji (and that neither can break). However, according to Tengen the bond of fate between The Six Eyes, Tengen and the Star Plasma Vessel has been broken thanks to Toji Fushiguro, who killed Riko Amanai 12 years ago. (Also, the choice of words that Toji escaped cursed energy is very interesting, and worthy of further looking into). This allowed for Kenjaku to carry out his plan to weaken and further let Tengen evolve into an almost cursed spirit, which he could manipulate through Getou's technique (which explains why he seized his body) to finally let the ritual of breaking into the body and finally merging begin (the culling game). To allow this however, Kenjaku had to make different restrictions, one of which is not not be the Game Master of the Culling. But in this case, two questions come up: who is the Game Master and what are the other restrictions? Can this be used as an advantage by Yuuta, Yuuji, Megumi and Maki to beat Kenjaku, free Gojo and stop the Evolution?

And this also prompts the question of, if Kenjaku would merge with Tengen in Getou's body, what would the consequence be? Also, does this merging occur after the end of the Culling? What if Kenjaku finds another body to take advantage of and this way, the vows he made when it Getou's body are not worth anymore? Would that play in his favour? Could it even be possible?

However, in order to do so, and since Tengen's barrier optimises cursed energy, and at the same time protects itself, Kenjaku is striving to eliminate Tengen's barrier. In the end, if the cursed energy is dispersed, yes it would mean chaos, but as well it would mean endless possibilities to evolve. Furthermore, if Is stretch this into unknown territory, what the picture could be is: since for Kenjaku the only ones able to successfully merge with Tengen and have a use out of it are Japanese people (for reasons stated before), and from the things we know of Kenjaku (old as they come, acquainted with Sukuna and Uraume, mad scientist who tampered with the Womb Paintings - creating Choso among the others, and most likely having tampered with the Itadoris') it would create the picture of a mad scientist in full gear striving for innovation, evolution, creating by destruction.

It gets cleared with the content on these next two panels:

Kenjaku wants a chaotic world, one that even he cannot control, in which Cursed Energy is a limitless source and has no possibility to be put down. The question that comes naturally with it is definitely why, because I am afraid that merely 'evolution' is a downplay of the real intentions of someone who experimented so much and has survived different centuries, under different names - all of which (known for now) are of 'evil' jujutsu sorcerers (both Kamo Noritoshi and Getou Suguru), who did not conform with the will of jujutsu society.

Does Kenjaku want the whole to end, to go berserk - because if there are no barriers and one individual goes mad, everyone does? The creation of 'Trascendent Being' which are more than jujutsu sorcerers? To see what's over the threshold of jujutsu sorcery? To have the world as the scene for a new Shibuya but with the possibility to influence and kill more people? Territorial expansion extendable over a certain barrier?

Anyway, I am not sure what the point is, just that Gege's plot is absolutely amazing and I can't wait to know more.

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armoredtitanmistress · 8 months

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𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙦𝙪𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 | Toji Fushiguro| fate's entanglements

characters: toji fushiguro x gojo!reader, toji zenin x gojo!reader

summary: fate had a sense of humor that you didn't appreciate.

tags: toji x gojo!reader, gojo’s older sister, pre-star plasma vessel arc/star plasma vessel arc, satoru content!, suggestive language, explicit language, symbolism (?), strangers to friends, angst, fluff.

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The ceiling lights that hung above your head did a very lackluster job of replicating the scenic starlit nights you had grown accustomed to. The wooden paneled walls littered with religious scrolls reminded everyone in the room of their purpose for being here. The matching floorboards had probably been polished by a low-ranking clan member. The room was filled with the voices of countless men trying to talk over one another believing their words were more important than the others.

When you first started to attend these meetings, you would listen as attentively as you could as you tried to adhere to the diligent daughter archetype. After a while, they would repeat the same things over and over again just with different wording. It made you realize that being inside this room, power was nothing but a word. None of these men truly cared for the life of anyone: not their families, not their clan, not the non-curse users that they had to save, and not the children that they sent off on missions. No, these men’s purpose for having these meetings was fueled by control and appearances.

“When are you going to just accept Osamu’s marriage proposal? My son is an impatient man with many women being offered to him. Why not make my boy’s day, Gojo?”

“Perhaps you should consider that there is a reason why I have never accepted his marriage proposals, Naobito. Along with any other son of yours you’ve tried to send my way over the years.” You retort as you take a sip of the sake in front of you. Like the others, Osamu wasn’t anything to look at. By far, the most unappealing of them all. You aren’t referring to his appearance but to him as an individual. With his mediocre skill set, you believed he entered the Hei on sheer luck. His only redeeming quality is that he was the same age as you. It contributed to his unattractive appeal as his mental age did not reflect his physical.

“When will you let go of this childish rebellion and accept one of their marriage proposals? Fairytale romances and true love do not exist for someone who is to ascend to be a clan leader.” His words are possibly the only logical thing that has been said during the entirety of the meeting. Love was never something you wanted and you don’t think it ever will. Partially because of the life you were set to have but also you have never felt those kinds of emotions for anyone before aside from familial love.

It was rich that he was talking to you about being childish. Don’t be blinded to believe that the Zenins were the only clan asking for your hand as that’s not the case. Naobito was the most persistent out of them all. Your father wasn’t even as concerned about your future spouse as Naobito was. “You may not understand my worth or even that of your sons but if I may express myself freely, let me pose an even far more daring question that could make you understand.” I did a horrendous job of defining you before. You were indeed still glorified that much hasn’t changed but you were a puppet with a consciousness with a life that could never be your own. “How many of your sons could put up a good fight against me?”

The expression he made was one that you wish you had taken a picture of to show Toji. His thin eyebrows furrowed with a hardening gaze that was on the brink of cracking with the tension that had been created. “Trust, the reason that you are the next head of your clan is purely because fate decided to gain a sense of humor and made you the firstborn. Your abilities aren’t enough to be considered your silver lining.” The man remarked with words that have been made known to you ever since Satoru was born. The only aspect of life that was out of reach for the elders was fate but if this life were a utopia for them, they would’ve had Satoru be born first. You were grateful that you could carry the burdens so that Satoru wouldn’t have to one day. That’s why everything was bearable since this was all for him.

“If you wanted to challenge me to a spar you could’ve asked instead of hiding it with this prolonged conversation. How about we-” The benevolent voice of your father that called your name was enough to stun you into silence. “ You’re dismissed.”

You believed that you inherited your father’s gift of having your tone of voice direct the atmosphere of a situation rather than the words spoken. He had spoken so little during the meeting you had momentarily let it slip your mind that he was present. People would say how similar you were to him and largely judge your character based on his. You didn’t consider yourself to be calm, calculated, or reserved but the world did. You considered yourself to be the complete opposite.

Standing up, you bow to your father, “My apologies.” You don’t even make the effort to see him with the gruff he let out as a response enough for you to know his disappointment. You also didn’t need to bother to look at Naobito to know that his eyes were hunting your retreating body.

You weren’t even allowed a moment to reflect on what had happened as a tiny body with tufted hair like yours was seated at the first steps that descended from the building. His back was facing away from you but you could make out that he was holding onto something, maybe a ball or a toy of his. You watched as his head turned as if he were inspecting the area to either avoid being seen or trying to look for someone.

“Toru, what are you doing here?” You asked, looking around to see if he had come here alone. Most of the meetings took place at either one of the campuses for Jujutsu High but today was the rare case of holding it at the Gojo compound.

“Finally! I thought I was going to have to wait all day for you to come out.” The tiny boy complained as you felt his hold tighten as he tried to tug you away with him. “Now come on! I want to play!”

Those meetings became bearable for him. You smiled at the boy before you ruffled his hair. “I thought we talked about being patient, ‘Toru? You can’t run away from training like this.”

He lifted his head toward you and pouted at your words. “But I missed you! This whole week has been training and it’s always the same thing over and over again. It’s so boring!”

Placing one of your hands into his, you allow him to lead the way, “It’s for good for you. How else do you think you’ll ever get stronger than me? I had to do the same thing at your age to get to this point.”

You didn’t wholeheartedly believe that to be true. He deserved to be a kid and be able to play, go to traditional primary school, and make friends. Naobito was right, fate had a sense of humor. A terrible one at that.

“Whatever, I can worry about getting stronger than you when I’m older. Right now, I just want to play with you!” As the eldest, you should’ve taken him back to the training grounds. As his sister, you let him coerce you into playing an array of different games. It started off physical with games like “Red Light, Green Light” then strayed into games like “I, Spy.” You often wondered if he enjoyed the life he had and if moments like these were as important to him as they were to you. I could tell you that you are naive to undermine your brother’s love for you. In many ways, you felt you were failing him as his sister. The previous comment you made is a prime example of that. You should be nurturing his childhood but at some points, you feel like you hinder it.

As a soft yawn escaped the little boy's voice, he made quick by covering his hands over his mouth. He wanted to keep spending with you. Lately, you’ve been busy with meetings and missions. This was one of the rare occasions that he’s been able to have you alone and away from everyone else. He didn’t want to go to sleep and then wake up with the uncertainty of if he’d even catch a glimpse of you throughout the day.

You smiled at him as you poked his cheek. “I spy with my little eye someone who needs to go to sleep.” You brought your hand out for him to take but the 7-year-old boy didn’t budge.

He shook his head, crossing his arms over one another, and with a pout, he affirmed, “I’m not tired!” His body was against him as another yawn came out.

You scooped him up into your arms and almost instantly he fell asleep. Thankfully, where you guys were was close to the main house so that walk wasn’t far. Once you had entered the house you took notice of the familiar silence that was present regardless if your family was home or not. Your mother prided herself in her image so you assumed she was out at a tea party with high-standing women from other clans. Your father could be anywhere from still being at the meeting from earlier or in this case right in front of you.

“Care to explain why Satoru is with you and not training?” He made no effort to lower his voice and you felt Satoru twist his body a bit at the sound of his voice.

“Father, he is a child. He should not be training as hard as he is now. At his age, I wasn’t-” You were never allowed to speak freely with him, and at times you forget that. No worries, he would always remind you in the form of cutting your words short.

“And that’s where I went wrong with you.” The blue in his eyes was darker and more menacing compared to yours and Satoru’s. His hair was long with half of it being held up in a top knot while the other half was down. His height aided in his uninviting aura standing at 6’4 and his yukata matched his cold exterior with it being a mixture of cool blues. “Naobito’s words hold merit, I hope you know that. Don’t bring your brother down with you.”

“Of course.” is all you say as you continue to make your way into Satoru’s bedroom. There wasn’t much personality to it as it was a traditional Japanese-style bedroom. The teddy bear on his bed that you had gifted him after winning it at a summer festival in high school was the only piece of personality his room had. Placing him down and tucking him in, you kiss his forehead.

“Love you, ‘Toru.” You were making your way out of his room when you heard a mumbled,

“Love you too.” from his direction. Turning to face him, you saw he was still asleep but now was hugging the bear. Your brother would always unknowingly find ways to make you smile which you did before leaving his room while trying to make your way out of the house.

“What are you doing going out at this time?” You heard your father call out from behind you and the smile soon fell. Turns out he hadn’t left when you took Satoru to his bedroom as he stood at the corner of the hallway with his arms crossed.

“I thought it would be a good idea to train. I haven’t been able to recently due to missions.” You lied and he seemed to buy it as he simply nodded before making his way to whoever knows where.

He would have you castrated if he knew you were meeting up with the renowned Sorceror Killer.

“Is that my damsel in distress? How much do you want this time?” You teased the bulky man that looked comedic sitting amongst all the flora. He yanked out a few flowers that were nearby before throwing them at you. Normally you would’ve reprimanded him for damaging your work like that but it wasn’t yours. You had somehow coerced the man into helping you plant/maintain your garden under the agreement that you’d give him money in return.

“That joke stopped being funny after the first time, doll.” He rolled his eyes at your other comment before rubbing two of his fingers together in a money motion before “poofing” it away. “You don’t pay me enough to even consider you another form of income.”

You laugh at this before grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt and pulling it down, you point to the prominent “love bites” he had received recently as you playfully pushed him away, “Maybe not, but those dates you take the women you swindle money from aren’t being paid from the money earned from that highly respectable job of yours.”

A while after you found out about his “hobbies”, you grew desensitized to them. Granted you only experienced the before/aftermath of them; the “borrowed money”, the nauseating perfume that mingled with his, and the poorly hidden hickeys. He described himself to be someone that was just experiencing the world and what it had to offer, good or bad.

“Getting so handsy with me but then pushing me away. You’re giving me mixed signals, doll.” The knack for being hypocritical had to be an inherited trait amongst the Zenin clan.

A year has passed and you both certainly were liars.

To an extent.

Yes, that was the closest that Toji had ever been allowed to get to you. That was in terms of physical contact. Over the year, you have gotten closer. You found out that he was a year older than you making him 22, how he got his scar, the night you talked for the first time he had only attended to tie off some loose ends with Naobito, and that he liked to gamble his money away.

After that initial meeting, the garden continued to be the designated meet-up spot. The number of times you’d see each other varied. Neither one of you had contact with one other outside of the garden so figuring out when the other would show up was a guessing game. You could either see each other every day or go months without any contact. The interactions held similar exchanges overall: talking about their days, stargazing, lingering touches, and unspoken words.

The mutual attraction from the start was palpable, but it had become difficult to deny as the years went by. This is more of an issue for yourself than for Toji, who vocalizes his attraction at any moment as long as there is an opportunity. You denied him for multiple reasons. The first is his instinct to wake up in other people’s beds rather than his own.

You were correct in assuming that Toji was a womanizer even if he heavily denied it.

“Trying to signal to you that we’re friends shouldn’t be viewed as a bad thing. It seems you keep conveniently forgetting that part.”

“Those women could be you if you just said yes.” As per the routine, you ignored him.

“You’re not usually the last one to show up between the both of us. Stuck in one of those meetings again or did something else take up your time?”

“Hmm.” Was the only response you gave him and he noticed your mood sour at mentioning your day.

“What did they do to piss you off this time?” He asked, chuckling at the irked expression you made. Anyone would consider your friendship to be an unlikely pairing that neither one of you could offer an answer to. In terms of bonding, if asked how you managed to remain friends you would bring up the mutual distaste for the higher powers of Jujutsu society.

Landing your head onto his lap and letting your hands run down your face, you groaned, “More like I pissed someone else off.”

He ran his fingers through your hair, pushing away a few strands that had fallen on top of your face. He gave up on trying to get rid of his habit of admiring your features. Though he has never admitted this to you, the women that he has hooked up with have never once come close to your beauty. It’s not like you made it easy with those eccentric features you had. “You know, usually someone has to piss you off before you piss someone else off. If I were to guess it was Naobito this time?”

You shook your head irritated at having to think of that man again before answering, “It’s always the same thing with him. With all due respect, none of your cousins are necessarily the most tolerable to be around.” You knew he didn’t take offense to that. He would’ve made the same remark about them too. Most likely an even harsher and more descriptive assortment of words.

“It was my father.”

“Oh, now that one is different. Don’t tell me I’m influencing bad behavior on you, doll.” He was joking but there was truth to that statement. His influence was not in your actions but more in the actions that you wouldn’t allow yourself to act upon. For reference, as you lay on his lap you wonder how he would feel inside your mouth as you see the imprint of his dick from his sweatpants from your peripheral, and judging based on the imprint alone you could see that he was well-endowed.

“It’s been a year and I still can tell you that you don’t have that kind of effect on me.” Lies like these remained a focal point in your relationship but Toji always knew when you were lying. You’d do what everyone else did when they lied like avoiding eye contact.

“Why don’t you leave?” He has posed this question to you previously and you’d always reply differently. Sometimes taking it seriously, sometimes not as much.

“Are you suggesting we become co-workers? With all due respect, I don’t think I’d take pleasure in knowing my livelihood is dependent on murder.” You chose the latter.

“Don’t knock yourself too short. That gaze of yours could certainly knock a man dead with just a look. Might as well play up your strengths.” He joked as he twirled a strand of your hair in between his fingers.

“You flatter me too much.”

He tugged on the strand his hand eliciting a reaction out of you that he had dreamed about on various nights, “You haven’t answered me. You keep complaining about the same things and the same people. Why not just leave it all?”

“And what? Leave Satoru by himself? I leave and then what becomes of him? The elders will just force him to be the next clan leader and fulfill my responsibilities. That’s not what I want for him.” You’ve fantasized about your life outside of all of this on multiple occasions. If fate had been fond of you right now, you’d be studying in college for a degree you weren’t a hundred percent certain of. Rest assured, you’d have a collective of people who would understand and make you feel certain that you’ll figure it out one day. You’d also be working a part-time job at a nearby cafe to sustain you and Satoru in a one-bedroom apartment near his elementary. He would certainly be a class clown that was adored by all as an individual. Craving the ordinary may seem foolish for other people and if it was then you were truly an idiot.

“You keep mentioning other people in your future but you haven’t said what you want yet.” Alongside the unspoken rule of not speaking about Toji’s sexual outings, topics such as these were hardly ever spoken about. Whether it was because it never came up in conversation or because it was believed to be too much you didn’t know.

“I don’t know what I want. I don’t have dreams. I don’t have aspirations. What’s the point of leaving if I have nothing worth leaving for? ” You shrugged after you removed yourself from his lap to sit upright but didn’t make an effort to create distance between the two of you.

“Do you need a reason to be free?” His tone of voice made his words feel like a throwaway statement. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world. However, those words would continue to hang over your head for years to come, trust me I would know.

From his perspective, he was doing anything to get by. He became a mercenary because it was something he was good at and it paid well. It wasn’t a dream of his nor something he wanted to do. The only thing that it guaranteed him was freedom and a new life. Just like you, he didn’t particularly know what he wanted to do when he decided to leave the clan. He just knew that it was something he needed to do for himself.

Leaning your head into the conjugation of his neck and jaw, feeling yourself get drowsy you let your eyes fall shut. “Don’t feel like talking anymore. Just stay here.”

After hearing your soft breaths, he knew you had fallen asleep. This was the first time in a while that he noticed that you hadn’t even acknowledged the guests that would frequent the sky at this time of night. The illuminated decorations scattered throughout the sky form different shapes. He never actually retained any of the constellation shapes that you’d point out to him. It was mostly the stories and the names that were attached to the constellations that he’d remember. Orion and Artemis were apparently constellations that would appear frequently as that’s a prominent story he remembered you telling him. I would tell you their story but now is not the time.

He wrapped an arm around your sleeping body to keep you steady and leaned his head over yours as he spoke to the stars, “Friends? I think she’s the only one out of the both of us that believes that.”

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authors note: hope you enjoyed this chapter! please reblog, like, comment, or whatever you feel comfortable doing to let me know that you like this story and if I should continue it. Also, if you have anything you have questions about it don't be afraid to ask! I'll answer it to the best I can without spoiling too much :)

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