Gojou Satoru - Tumblr Posts

FRENCH GOJO! I REPEAT, FRENCH GOJO!

i am. going insane.

he sounds so good. help ,e

if it’s not enough humiliation, i think we can get an answer for “are you the strongest because you are gojou satoru or are you gojou satoru because you are the strongest?” not necessarily in the sense if gojou has autonomy or not, but of a man that has been turned into a human weapon from the beginning, whose birth changed the balance of society. if there was a power bestowed upon him outside of his control of if willingly chose that position, he can’t control the distancing other people feel towards him, he can’t control being put in that pedestal, and yet he willingly chooses that pedestal, willingly chooses to be used and dehumanised, even in death. and what he dehumanised himself for? so others wouldn’t have to be lonely like him? but then he wholeheartedly agrees with his student going on the same path? taking the same position? doing the same thing the sorcerer he despised did? to renounce your own humanity to… save humanity. this is exactly what radicalised getou. but i guess that’s precisely the irony needed for this tragedy.

Gate… close.

Wendell Berry / Tim Seibles / James Baldwin / Mahmoud Darwish / Mary Oliver / Mahmoud Darwish / Octavio Paz / Madeline Miller / Florence + the Machine / Trista Mateer / Ocean Vuong / Akutami Gege, Jujutsu Kaisen

GOJOU SATORU [五条悟] for lena @sleepytortellini ♡

"Never before or after that had anyone noticed me standing behind them."

JUJUTSU KAISEN S2 ENDING • AKARI BY SAKIYAMA SOUSHI    ↳ ft. Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru

JUJUTSU KAISEN / 呪術廻戦 (2020-) 2.01 | “懐玉” • hidden inventory

Gojo Satoru ✧ 16 years old        ↳ jujutsu kaisen season 2 PV

脈々と受け継がれるもの

A Day Off of Loitering and Investigation

A translation of the first chapter of Jujutsu Kaisen’s first light novel “Departing Summer and Returning Autumn” by Akutami Gege and Kitakuni Balad.

A Day Off of Loitering and Investigation

If we are talking about the few “definite things” in this modern day and age, there are only three at best.

That Mito Koumon[1] will win.

That Sazae-san[2] will air on Sunday.

And lastly, that Kugisaki Nobara’s shopping will drag on for a long time.

Keep reading

The Resurrection Puppet

Second chapter of Jujutsu Kaisen’s first light novel, featuring Nanami and Gojou.

The Resurrection Puppet

Nanami doesn’t hate going on business trips.

It’s not like you couldn’t call it going traveling on a budget, and it could also become a reason to go somewhere you normally wouldn’t.

Much less, somewhere like Hokkaido.

Keep reading

EXCUSE ME BUT THIS WAS GOOD TOO

uhmm i know it’s super broad but a gojo satoru fluff? nothing like domestic AU but more like close childhood best friends where they both clearly like eachother but reader is a really big tsundere

A/N: imma try making this a oneshot! :D also there MIGHT be some spoilers for the manga but i’ll try to keep them as vague as possible

genres: fluffy!! slight angst; 1.4k words

the three times he says “i love you” [Gojou Satoru X Reader]

The first time Gojou Satoru tells you he loves you was during a simpler era in which nothing was expected of the two of you in spite of your powerful heritage as jujutsu sorcerers. It was a time when you could still laugh at the mistakes you made during training sessions, the adults slightly more forgiving than they would have been if you were a few years older.

You’d been left to your own devices after dinner, having chosen to stay in your room throughout the evening and night. The sound of your door sliding open doesn’t alarm you as it could only ever be one person: the boy whom your parents are taking care of… your closest and only actual friend.

You fail to spare him a glance, eyes glued to the old book that weighs heavy in your tiny hands—in both physical weight and spiritual significance. A smaller, more petty reason for your lack of acknowledgement is the person himself who’d now taken it upon himself to simply stand right in front of you, blocking the light from reaching the yellowed pages of the book written by your ancestors.

“Why’re you still studying?” he asks, leaning forward a bit more, obscuring your vision further. Whether it’s unintentional of on purpose, you cannot tell. “It’s so easy,” Gojou continues, referring to the technique he so easily picked up during the day, “I can show you—”

When he grabs your wrists, your head shoots up, lips parted as you ready yourself to reject him, to tell him to go away and let you study by yourself. However, the words escape you when you notice the blood gushing down his forehead, his right eye shining in the midst of the dark, red liquid.

“What happened?” All frustration is drained out of your very soul as you grab his shoulders, guiding him to sit down on your bed. Your positions now swapped, Gojou stares up at you, silent. “Does it hurt?” you ask, holding your hands to either side of his head, his temples covered by the warm palms of your hands.

He hums in response—neither a yes or a no—and appreciates the fact that you don’t push for an answer. His eyelids flutter closed as the sensation of your reverse cursed technique flows effortlessly into him. The feeling is comforting beyond all words, warm and cooling at the same time, it all originates from your soft hands and tender touch.

The broken skin heals and the words slip off his tongue:

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Your technique abruptly stops as your hands fly off his face as though his skin were boiling hot. Gojou opens his eyes to look at you again but by then you’re gone, leaving him alone in your room with the book you’d abandoned and his racing heart.

The second time those words spill out of his lips, they’re spoken in a tone so casual and careless that you find yourself more irked than flustered—even if he was, then, already someone you’d developed feelings for.

Gojou had stared at you from over the round frames of his sunglasses, brilliant blue eyes twinkling with the usual playfulness they always seemed to carry no matter where he was or what was happening. His gaze was also expectant—as were the looks of your fellow jujutsu classmates—in a way that you just couldn’t decipher.

What did he want you to say? What were you expected to do?

Gojou Satoru had, of course, spoken those words out loud in front of all your mutual friends. It was perhaps, in hindsight, not the best idea, seeing as your response was a simple punch to his shoulder followed by a brisk walk out of the classroom.

The white-haired teen merely sighed, as though not realising that he’d, in no way, shown any form of seriousness during his confession; acting as if the blatant rejection was no fault of his own demeanour. But he’s not an idiot, of course. Reckless with his feelings, yes, but no idiot.

“You’re a dumbass,” Getou chuckles, slipping into the chair of the desk that was beside Gojou’s, his arm casually slung over the backrest of the seat with his cheek resting against his hand. He looks at his white-haired friend with amusement but also slight pity, knowing fully well how much he meant what he’d said, even if it definitely didn’t sound that way.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies with a pout, crossing his arms behind his head while he sticks his long legs out from under the table and gives them a little stretch. “That was most certainly just a prank that played out perfectly well.”

“Perfectly, you say?” Ieiri Shouko comments from her seat at the back of the room. “All you did was piss (Y/N) off.”

“Exactly!”

It’s only a few hours later when Gojou realises he may have annoyed you a little bit too much.

Having not seen you at all ever since the very successful prank, he decides to look for you at your room and, much like his prank, succeeds in finally finding you. He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him before sauntering over to your bed where you sit at the end, legs crossed and eyebrows furrowed as you type furiously on your flip phone. Gojou feels an odd sense of deja vu when you ignore him but he shrugs it off easily.

The mattress sinks under his weight before his head lands on your lap. In the midst of making himself comfortable, he slips off his glasses and tosses them aside, hands rubbing at his eyes lazily. When he opens them once more, he stares right up at your face, peeking at you from underneath your phone. Your own eyes flicker towards him briefly but return to their original focus, eliciting a whiny huff from the young man.

He grabs your free hand and smushes the palm to it into his cheek, smiling like a fool when you let it rest there, your fingers tickling the edge his hairline. Your skin is calloused and scarred, the results of years of perfecting your inherited cursed technique, but it soothes him all the same. His heart stutters when you begin to caress his skin with the pad of your thumb, rubbing his face with tender affection.

“I meant what I said…” he whispers as he lets his eyes flicker closed, fully immersing himself in the feeling of your touch, just missing the way you look at him. Your phone lowered, you stare at him silently as you continue to keep his face nuzzled in the palm of your hand. He falls asleep a short while after and so do you.

The third time he says those words, Gojou fully prepares himself to watch you run away yet again. He tells himself that if you do what he expects you to do, he’ll never say those words again—not to you, not to anyone else. He’s convinced that if you, the person who knows him more than he knows himself, are unable to love him then he won’t even try to love anyone else.

The third time he says those words, he says them as you eat dinner together in your room at the school, the sentence tearing through the sound of clinking cutlery and the YouTube video playing on your phone that you were watching together. He says them out of the blue, after quietly staring at you eat and laugh instead of the screen for the past twenty minutes.

He says them after thinking to himself, ‘I really do love you.’

And you… you stare at him with an expression he’s never seen before. Your eyes are wide, lips parted but there’s no shock on your face, there’s only… relief and—

“I love you, too,” you reply before letting out a shaky breath as though the words themselves took immense effort to say. You smile widely, the scars littering your face bending to the shape of your joyful expression. A source of great insecurity over the years, Gojou can’t help but find every single one beautiful.

He resists the urge to say something stupid, to make this all-too-serious atmosphere become slightly less serious—a terrible habit of his and one that you immediately pick up on after years of dealing with his foolishness. You grab his hand and intertwine your fingers with his—a gesture that sends his heart flying off to god-knows-where.

“You can say whatever it is you want to say.”

Ah, he always knew you were the one for him.

“… does this mean I can touch your butt? :D”

Why do I like guys with no fashion sense? I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU, SATAN! (from OM)

Gojo may look good in the recent art but don’t forget this man has no fashion sense so I’m convinced it’s a fluke.

Like, how can you go from this...

...to this?

Nobara must be giving him pointers bc Gojo is the animated version of this man:

C’mon he even crouches like a guy trying to be “hip with the kids”

In conclusion I am filling out an application to be Gojo’s fashion stylist

lol gojo HAHHAAHHAAA

Gojo the type of guy that thinks he’s good at flirting but he has only been successful because of his pretty face. I’m sure his gf in the chaos couple has cut him down a few times. Not that he actually feels down about it but everyone else is pikachu face :0

notes: gojo 100% lives in the bubble. sorry I took so long, anon! also sorry because I don’t think this is as good as I want it to be 😔 words: 2.1k related chaos couple drabbles

It’s hard to keep the frown off your face as you watch the cashier giggle at Gojo’s...flirtations. When he leans over the counter toward her just slightly and you see her cheeks turn bright red, you actually roll your eyes. 

It’s not because you’re jealous. You know where you stand in yours and Gojo’s relationship. After all, you’ve been with the annoying man for years. 

No, it’s because with every giggle and every bat of her eyelashes and every twirl of her hair around her finger, you can practically see Gojo’s ego growing larger. When he finally pulls his trademark move of tilting his head down so that he can look at her over the rims of his sunglasses and let her see his eyes, you’ve finally had enough.

You give a loud huff and walk away, but not before you hear the cashier offer to let Gojo use her employee discount.

By the time he finally rejoins you, whistling as he swings a paper shopping bag in his hand, you’re sitting outside on a bench and halfway the iced coffee you’ve had time buy while waiting for him to finish “shopping.”

When he plops down next to you and drops an arm over your shoulder, you direct a withering glare at him. 

“Oh, what’s that look for?” he asks cluelessly before he grabs your drink from you and takes a sip, only to grimace at the bitterness and toss it in the trash can on the other end of the bench. Your jaw drops in outrage but before you can scold him and demand that he buy you a new one, he’s already moving on. “You only look at me like that when you’re annoyed.”

But then he pauses for a moment and the corners of your lips turn down because you can tell that he’s about to jump to a wrong conclusion.

“Wait...are you jealous?”

You don’t need to see through his sunglasses to know that his eyes have lit up with glee at the notion. 

“You are! You’re so totally jealous!” He laughs incredulously and you force yourself to take a deep, calming breath. 

“Why would I be jealous?” you ask with a completely straight face once his laughter has finally died down.

“Because you don’t want to someone encroaching on your territory!” he grins, puffing out his chest with pride and you can’t hold back your derisive snort. However, he’s so caught up in himself that he doesn’t even notice. “You don’t want someone trying to take your car for a ride when it’s the nicest one in the neighborhood.”

He sighs as he tugs you closer to him and rests his cheek on top of your head. You try to wriggle away from him but he only squeezes you tighter.

“I didn’t mean to make you jealous,” he says, his words dripping with condescension. “I just can’t help flirting. It comes so naturally and then it gives them the wrong signal.”

You can’t take it anymore. You elbow him in the side -- trying not to dwell on the fact that he let you do it -- and scoot away from him. 

“They’re not into you because of your flirting,” you scoff and he pauses, giving you a look of genuine confusion. “They treat you so nice because of...this.”

You gesture vaguely to his face and his eyebrows wrinkle together above his sunglasses. 

“This?” he repeats before pointing at himself. “My face?”

“Yeah,” you tell him like it’s obvious, which it is. His pretty boy looks and his strength as a jujutsu sorcerer are the only things that have carried him so far in life.

Gojo seems to be the only person unaware of it. 

“That cashier didn’t let me use her discount because of my face,” he explains with a dismissive wave of his hand, like you’re the one who doesn’t get it. “It’s because I flirted with her so she thought she had a chance!”

“Satoru, you’re terrible at flirting,” you point out and he instantly gasps and flinches away from you like you’ve burned him. By now, you’re more than used to his antics and you merely continue. “And you have a terrible personality. If they couldn’t see you then they’d treat you worse than everyone else.”

“That’s not true,” he protests, sounding sincerely hurt and you roll your eyes as you stand up.

“I’ll prove it to you. Wait here,” you tell him before you leave him behind on the bench to head toward the convenience store a few shops away. When you return ten minutes later, it’s with a plastic bag in hand.

Without a word, you remove his sunglasses and perch them on top of your head for safekeeping. You then reach into the bag into the plastic bag and pull out a new, oversized pair of sunglasses that you slip on in their place to shield his eyes, a bucket hat that you drop on top of his head to cover his hair, and a face mask to hide the rest of his annoyingly perfect features.

When you’re done and take in the sight of him before you, you can’t help but smirk at how he now looks like someone who would be on a list of known sex offenders. Your fingers suddenly itch to take out your phone so you can sneak a picture of him that you can share with your students later. But you decide to be merciful and leave your phone where it is in your bag.

You’re already making him leave the bubble that he’s been living in for his entire life. That annoying affection that you hold for him has you feeling the slightest bit of pity for him. 

“We’re gonna go back to the cafe and you’re going to buy me a replacement coffee to make up for the one you threw away,” you explain to him, your arms crossed over your chest as you look at him with a raised eyebrow, daring him to disagree. 

“Fine,” he agrees easily as he stands and you lead him to the coffee shop. Although you can’t see his face, you can hear the grin that’s surely on his lips. “But just so you know, I’m not buying anything. They’ll give it to me for free.”

The cockiness in his voice is like music to your ears. You’re not blind to Gojo’s faults -- despite what your peers (and students) might think. If anything, you’re all too aware of them, which means you know that he’s in for a rude awakening. 

You hold open the door to the cafe for him, giving him a smirk as he passes you before you follow right after him. It’s just as slow as it was when you came earlier with only a few patrons seated inside and the baristas joking about something behind the counter. 

When the barista who took your order the first time catches sight of you and Gojo, she gives you a friendly smile.

“Oh, back already?” she asks as you stop in front of the register and you smile in return.

“Yeah, my friend here--” you begin to explain, only to be cut off when Gojo drops a hand to your shoulder and pushes you out of the way so that he can be the focus of the barista’s attention. 

She immediately frowns and looks at you with concern. But before she can ask if you’re okay, Gojo begins to lay it on thick. 

“Ah, you know, I heard how great the coffee was here, but no one said anything about how beautiful the cashier was!” he exclaims and you bite you bottom lip to keep from laughing at the clear disgust on the barista’s face. 

He seems to notice it too because even with 95% of his head covered, you can see how he falters slightly at her reaction. It’s not something he’s used to -- at least not from poor, unsuspecting women. 

“What would you like to order?” she asks, her tone suddenly a lot less friendly than how it was when she greeted you. Gojo seems to see this as a second chance. 

“Hmmmmm, what do I want to order?” he repeats aloud to himself, tapping his covered chin with a finger as takes his time looking over the menu. “What do you recommend? I like things that are sweet.”

He’s consciously layering it on thicker now that he’s without his biggest asset, his face, and it’s clearly having the opposite effect because the barista grimaces. You’ll have to be sure Gojo leaves her a big tip. 

“We have a pear-pineapple smoothie,” she suggests, a forced, plastic, customer-service smile on her face. 

“Well, you’re the expert,” he laughs uproariously, like he’s just told the funniest joke known to man. You have to hand it to the barista because her fake smile doesn’t dim even slightly and she rings up a smoothie. 

“Oh, a medium iced coffee as well, please,” you add on politely, knowing that Gojo’s already forgotten that replacing your coffee was your main reason for coming in. 

She nods and rings that up as well before telling you both the total. And when Gojo hears that she is indeed charging him, he freezes.

“It’s not free?” he asks and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to keep in your laughter this time.

“No...?” the barista answers, just as confused about why the drinks would be free as Gojo is that they’re not. 

“But you’re into me,” he points out like it’s a given fact and she visibly recoils at the suggestion.

“Excuse me?” She looks horrified and her outcry seems to have been enough to cause her manager to step in. 

“Is there a problem?” the manager asks with a deep frown and you know Gojo too well, because you know that he’s about to turn his flirtations on her instead.

Deciding that he’s learned his lesson, and wanting your iced coffee already, you finally step in.

“Ah, no. I’m so sorry about him,” you offer with an apologetic wince and it’s now your turn to push him out of the way. You slip your hand into his back pocket and pull out his wallet, opening it to grab his credit card.

“Hey! I--”

“He’s just not very good with people and I’ve been trying to get him more used to social situations but he’s still struggling with boundaries,” you explain, dryly noting the entire time that everything you said is true. “I’m really so sorry.”

You hear Gojo splutter behind you in protest but you, and the two women behind the counter, pay him no mind. You finish paying for your order and the pull out the stack of bills from the wallet and shove them in the tip jar before tossing the the much-lighter wallet back at him. 

Your drinks come out in what must be record time and you’re quick to shove Gojo out of the cafe ahead of you, certain that the employees breathe a collective sigh of relief to see you both gone. 

You watch with amusement as Gojo finds his way back to the bench the two of you were previously sharing where he plops down and dejectedly hunches over. You sit down beside him and pull off the bucket hat so that you can run your fingers through his hair. 

He sighs heavily and takes off the sunglasses and face mask you purchased. He hands them over to you and takes his own sunglasses back from where they’re still resting on top of your head. He takes a sip of his smoothie only to frown down at it.

“It’s not even that sweet,” he whines and you snort.

“Satoru?” you ask, his pathetic state making you more inclined to indulge his sulking. “Do you want to go back into your pretty boy bubble where everyone’s nice to you in spite of your terrible personality?”

He shamelessly nods and you can’t fully hold back your grin. You lean in and drop a kiss to his cheek. 

“Okay,” you agree before you playfully pinch his cheek right where your lips had just been. “Just so long as you don’t forget that you’re my pretty boy.”

TAKE ME BACK TO BEFORE – gojo satoru

summary. based off of this drabble. satoru loses his best friend, and, in the process, loses you too.

wc. 4.4k

tags. ANGST <33333 some fluff at the beginning, slight mention of some suggestive activities, cliff-hanger ending (neither happy nor sad), might be swearing I can't remember and it's 12am I'm too tired to check, may include spelling mistakes

a/n. sorry some bits are a little rushed but I wanted the focus on yn and gojo without making it too long!! hope you enjoy (unknown whether i'll pt2 it, might just leave it to the imagination)!!!! this is also my first long long piece of writing so i’m happy to accept any criticism xxx

chapped lips kiss along the back of your neck, soft hair tickling with each movement. you can feel the heat of the sun that peaks though the half closed curtains – satoru’s fault since the additional two seconds that would take is two seconds that he’s not with you and god forbid he’s not wrapped around you like a koala.

like right now.

you daren’t not open your eyes yet, enjoying the peace of being gently pampered by your boyfriend’s love as his kisses move down your shoulders and his fingers draw circles on your thighs and tummy. one leg is slotted neatly between yours and for a few blissful moments, he’s not the strongest sorcerer alive and you’re not his semi-grade one girlfriend that is constantly scrutinised for not coming from a well known clan. in their eyes you weren’t worthy to be in bed with a special grade. not that that had ever stopped you or gojou.

“i know you’re awake,” satoru murmurs against your skin, lifting his head up so that it rests against your shoulder. his voice is laced with sleep and you’re sure he hasn’t been awake much longer than you. he squeezes you impossibly closer, his bare chest against your back and your lips tilt up in a smile at the fact you’re the only one who will ever be this close to him. able to touch and kiss every inch of his skin with no infinity acting as a barrier.

after the fight with toji, gojo had reached a state of enlightenment. he declared himself the honoured one and suddenly you, suguru and gojo were no longer doing missions together. in fact, gojo would practically drop off the face of the earth for several weeks at a time as the higher ups took advantage of his new-found skills. you and suguru coped but it had changed the dynamic of your relationships entirely so these mornings were easily your favourite time of the day.

“i preferred it when you didnt speak,” you lie, twisting round in his arms to face him. it was becoming more of a rarity to see your boyfriend without his glasses on. as his power grew stronger, the consequential headaches were only worsening and shoko could only counter his cursed technique so much. “more kisses please.” squeezing your eyes shut and puckering your lips in an over-exaggerated manner, you hear satoru snicker lightly but he complies nonetheless.

one hand dips under your head to lightly grasp ahold of your hair, ensuring you stay tightly against him. the other reaches down, skimming past your shorts to grasp your thigh and pull it over his leg so your body is pressed against his. his hands are so gentle but they leave a fiery heat in their path that makes you wish you weren’t at the jujutsu high dorms with your friends either side of you.

“so demanding,” he mocks, his voice muffled against your lips. you’re almost embarrassed by how hard you’re trying to swallow the whine that’s stuck at the back of your throat. and satoru knows, he always knows, and he pinches your thigh as your hand wraps around his neck.

you bite down on his lip and squeeze your hand and he’s gasping and you’re kissing him harder until, finally, oxygen catches up to you both. satoru keeps you close, your foreheads pressed against one anothers as your quickened breaths mingle.

it’s a few more seconds till your heart has calmed down enough to hear yourself think and you open your eyes to see his ocean blue ones already staring at you. if your cheeks weren’t already red from your small make out, they definitely were now under his powerful gaze, so full of love and adoration.

satoru sees you so clearly, you look like an angel to him. sure, he has a strip from a photo booth of the two of you folded in the back pocket of his uniform at all times and hundreds of pictures of you on his phone to look back at when he’s away from you. but seeing you like this so up close is an image he wants branded into his brain permanently.

“we don’t have class today,” satoru says suggestively, drawing dangerously high circles that have you shuddering in anticipation.

your thumb brushes against his chin, tickled against the slight stubble that he’d shave off once you got out of bed. “what are you proposing?” you hum with a grin.

satoru enunciates each of his words with a wet kiss to your lips, cheek, nose and jaw, “you, me and a whole morning of s-” 

there’s a sharp knock against the door and satoru rolls over onto his side of the bed, letting out a very loud and very mature whine. you giggle quietly and press one last kiss to the crook of his neck, telling him to go speak to whoever it is. with a grumbled who the fuck is cockblocking the honoured one, satoru complies and slides off of the bed to find his pyjama pants to at least look half decent.

you watch him lazily, and you think you could fall back asleep if it weren’t for the fact your body is buzzing from the simple make out session. it was scary to admit the power satoru had over you.

“i’m trying to spend quality time with my girlfriend kento, this better be good,” satoru whines as he slides open his dorm door. you could almost picture nanami’s disgusted expression at the half-clothed, six-foot-something sorcerer who, quite frankly, was acting like a child.

“i need your help exorcising a few grade threes that were spotted,” nanami admits in a monotone voice but your heart instantly sinks.

“you’re grade two-” satoru tries to argue but you hiss gojo and the simple use of his family name has him reconsidering. clicking his tongue, he nods once at nanami with a more serious expression than is usually worn by the special grade, “give me five and i’ll be there.”

“i’ll be outside. bye yn.”

“stay safe kento!” you call back to him as you hear his footsteps get further away. 

satoru slowly closes the door. any trace of the sexual desires that were in the room previous have dissipated into a quiet sombre. he’s silent for a few moments before he turns his attention back to you, carefully assessing your response.

you stare up at the ceiling for a few more moments before you meet the eyes of your boyfriend. there’s an unspoken name between you and both of you are scared to say what you’re thinking.

the mission had initially meant to be one for you: it was supposed to be just a couple of grade two curses. easy. but you’d pushed yourself too hard the day before during train and could barely walk on your left leg. shoko had been away with family so the higher ups made the executive decision to send nanami and him. 

things went nasty quickly with the information being all wrong and satoru was the one who ultimately exorcised the curses as the rest of you mourned over what remained of his body. it didn’t matter that almost twelve months had passed. the guilt of ‘what if’ still tormented your memories and you’d be lucky if you went a week without seeing him in your dreams.

“i love you.” you turn your body to the left to see satoru having knelt down just in front of the bed. his icy blue eyes were filled to the brim with concern and pity for your situation. with satoru so often being away for missions now, you two had struggled to work through your guilt as you tried to pull further and further away from him. 

you offer him a small smile for reassurance. “i love you too.”

“always?” he tilts his head and grins. it didn’t take a genius to figure out that satoru had two very clear and distinctive love languages: physical touch and affirmations. he didn’t need the reassurance but there was just something about hearing you profess your love for him over and over that made his heart soar. 

you reach out to hold his face, and he practically purrs as he nestles himself closer into your touch. “of course pretty boy. who else would put up with your tantrums?”

“tantrums?! i would never,” satoru says, appalled by the accusations so much so he holds your wrists and kisses both palms of your hands. “that hurt my feelings.”

“you’ll be okay.” you roll your eyes, but your lips have quirked into a small smile and satoru mirrors it with a with a wide as he classes that as a  success. he places one little kiss to your lips, sighing reluctantly as he knows he’s got to leave you. 

despite the fact he was getting ready to go on a mission and not spend the day on a date with you, you do love the view of watching him get dressed. his back muscles in particular as he pulls a white shirt over his head that you wish you could bite—

“help?”

since you had started slipping into satoru’s room and spending the night, you two had formed a codependent morning routine. one part of which being the fact that satoru seemed to lose all ability to button up his uniform jacket the second you were in his bed. 

you shrug off the duvet and slip off of his bed to stand in front of him where he stood awaiting. a silence settles between the two of you as your hands gently pull his jacket together and slot each of the buttons into place. his glasses remain in his hand so you’re blessed with those ocean eyes watching each of your ministrations.

“suguru gets back from visiting his parents today,” you loop your arms loosely around his neck once you’re done, and he wants to laugh at the way you stretch up to meet his height. “him, ieiri and i are going to get boba if you want to join. bring kento too. i’m worried about him.”

“he’ll be okay,” you frown at satoru’s cheerful, but also dismissive, tone. “it’s just a part of-”

“-being a sorcerer. yeah i know,” you grumble. satoru is not an idiot, far from it, he’s just never known anything other than the jujutsu world. in such a world death has become normalised – even for a boy only eighteen. “but me and kento aren’t from families like you. we didn’t know what we were signing up for,” you explain and his lips pull into a thin line.

he presses an apologetic kiss to you forehead and gives your waist a soft squeeze, “i’m sorry, love you, baby.”

“i love you more,” you draw your arms around him more tightly and press your cheek to your chest as you hold him close to you, “come back to me safely.”

“answer my calls idiot,” you sigh as you press on geto’s contact for the third time. he should have arrived at the school twenty minutes ago but it had pretty much been radio silent since he’d arrived at his parents. other than the confirmation that he was there and safe, you hadn’t heard anything. you initially weren’t concerned – he was seeing his family after all – but he was never late to meet you.

“ieiri!” 

as you run down the hall to her, you notice your teacher, yaga, standing stony-faced with paper in his hands. you hold up your phone with suguru’s contact on the screen, “have you heard from sugu-“ shoko sighs, shaking her head and your stomach drops. not suguru too. you could barely recover from haibara. the only person that got you through that was satoru and you don’t think he can hold you together and keep himself sane if suguru had been killed by a curse too.

“someone tell me he’s still alive,” there’s tears welling up in your eyes as your grip tightens around your phone. what if you’d called him a day prior? would he have answered? asked for help? could you have saved him?

shoko can’t meet your gaze as she struggles to find the right words to explain so it’s your teacher that wordlessly answers your demand by handing you the letter in his hand, “read this.” 

you wish you hadn’t.

“what? what?” you repeat, eyes wide as you scan the word ‘execution’. your stomach is doing flips at this point and you really think you might be sick. your head pounds as you reread the words. “is this real?”

“unfortunately,” yaga confirms.

you think maybe it’s selfish, your friend is clearly suffering because no perfectly well being commits such a heinous act, but the only person that concerns you is– “does satoru know?”

“no,” he shakes his head, “i’m informing him once he’s back with nanami. i’m going to need all four of you to be on your best behaviour, keeping a low profile and completing any missions received as swiftly and efficiently as possible. we’re all going to be scrutinised for every decision we make from now.” yaga doesn’t have to explain himself fully to you both to know what he’s implying. all of you are under suspicion now of conspiracy – one mistake and the next execution letter could have your name written.

“do you know where is suguru now?” you ask shoko with a shaky voice once yaga has walked away back to his office.

“the boba shop,” shoko plays with the unlit cigarette in her hand. she, much like gojo, kept her true emotions hidden by a veil of grins and snarky comments, but there was a clear tone of defeat in her voice. “we planned to go there so he’ll go.”

you lift your head up from the floor, “but that was before he did… this.” there is a lump in your throat as you speak and find yourself feeling selfish as your concern shifts to your boyfriend and how he’ll handle suguru’s defection.

“he’ll be there,” shoko says firmly with the utmost trust in her voice. a true belief that he will never let you both down, that he will never do anything that has been accused of him.

-

that belief is quickly dashed, a day dream that isn’t real and the truth cut through you deeper than any curse ever could. suguru was nonchalant when you had spoken, apologetic that he had to leave all of his friends as opposed to his actions that caused that. shoko had called satoru and the rest had been a blur as she took you back to jujutsu high to give satoru and suguru their space.

time stills until a familiar aura of cursed energy enters the high school. he’s not wearing his usual dark shades so you can see his eyes are clearly bloodshot and puffy from tears – even if they’re partially covered by his growing white locks and his hunched posture.

you, shoko and yaga have been awaiting his return. there is a target on suguru’s head now and your teacher needs to know if satoru has pulled the trigger. you just need your boyfriend to come back to you in one piece, both metaphorically and physically. 

he doesn’t acknowledge any of you. there’s no words, no gestures, no shift in his energy to even let you all know that he’s responsive to the outside world. it’s like he’s just on autopilot as he pushes between the three of you and heads in the direction of the dorm rooms.

shoko sighs, flicking the lighter in her hand as she silently takes her leave. your heart feels like it’s ripping in two and you’re struggling to pick up the falling pieces as you watch her walk away. suguru is gone, shoko is shutting down and satoru…

yaga encourages you to go and speak to satoru whilst he discusses with other sorcerers about plans going forward regarding suguru. 

“toru? toru?” you knock lightly on his door, repeating your nickname for him when he doesn’t respond to you the first time. you know he’s in there.

another twenty seconds go by before you make the assertive decision to enter, pressing your palms against the door and slowly sliding it open. slipping in and closing the door behind yourself, there’s a slight ache in your chest as you mourn the blissful morning you had woken up to. a morning in a world that no longer existed.

the bed is still perfectly made as you had tidied it before you’d gone on your suguru hunt. satoru sits at his desk, his foot tapping lightly on the ground repeatedly as his knee moves up and down. you have never seen him in any state of anxiety before. it felt intrusive to witness the strongest in such a manner – even if you are his girlfriend.

you perch yourself onto the edge of his bed and wait for him to open up. which he never does. shocker. “did suguru say much to you?”

“no.”

“i know this is bad right now but-“

“do you know?” satoru snaps, hands slamming down against his desk causing you to jump. you’ve never seen him speak so angrily and act out – his emotions overruling his logical reasoning. “is it because i’m fucking cryin? is that what made you realise?”

“satoru-“

“you were here. you have been with him and not once did you mention that suguru wasn’t doing well,” satoru doesn’t sugarcoat his words as he layers the blame thickly on you, “maybe if you hadn’t been so fucking focused on how your last fuck up killed haibara, i wouldn’t have lost my best friend.” you choke back a sob, hand over your mouth as tears well up in your eyes. satoru doesn’t look at you. somewhere between this morning and now, your position has shifted – from the centre of his universe to just another weak person who burdens him.

“he is my best friend too,” your broken voice tries to defend itself. the attempt falls on deaf ears because now satoru is pacing back and forth, his fingers pressed to the sides of his forehead as he rotates them in small circles. migraine.

“satoru i get you’re grieving and you’re hurt but you can’t blame me,” you try to reason because god you love him so much and you think if he means what he says, if satoru truly blames you… you’re not sure how you’re going to be able to move on.

“cant i?” satoru lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “i ignored him for you. to make sure you were okay.”

“look we’re both emotional right now. i’ll give you some time to cool off and we can work this out–” you try to reach out and hold his hand but you're met with a force you haven’t felt in a very very very long time. he turned his infinity on.

“dont bother,” he slouches back down into his chair, forearm covering his eyes as he leans back. “there’s nothing to work out.”

those tears that you’d been holding back are freely flowing now, down past your reddned cheeks and dripping onto his bed sheets as you feel yourself become light-headed. “are you break-“

“go.” there’s a chill down your spine from the assertiveness in his voice. it’s monotone and without any trace of the love he had for you that morning. he really means it then, everything he said.

so you comply and you don’t look back.

– TWELVE MONTHS LATER

“ieiri, i just need two more minutes then i should be ready to go–”

“you’re leaving.” 

your breath hitches and your whole world comes to a halt at the oh-so-familiar voice behind you. one that had barely addressed you or acknowledged your existence for a year now. a ghost.

“gojo,” you know he doesn’t like your usage of his first name from the disgruntled sound he makes. there’s a brief pause as your brain hot wires itself back into function again and you refrain from repeating his family name that tastes so foreign on your tongue. “uh, yeah, my plane to korea leaves in a few hours.” 

“you weren’t going to say goodbye?”

you scoff, closing the last box with the remains of your tape, “this is the first time you’ve recognised my existence in nearly a year, gojo. can’t say goodbye to someone who’s already left you behind.” your tone is especially sharp as you utter the syllables of his last name. it hurts to speak to him, to hear his voice, to exist to him again. he doesn’t get to speak to you with a breeziness in his voice, like he never abandoned you in the worst way possible. like he didn’t shatter your heart into a million pieces when you were already at your lowest.

the world of jujutsu is cruel and had been especially to you since geto’s defection and the break up with gojo. you had shoko and nanami but shoko was slowly regressing into a shell of a former self and nanami had always had one foot out of the door. the last twelve months had only solidified his decision to leave.

the higher ups have little to no respect for you – that is a fact. gojo leaving you had removed any sort of political defence you had against them and they didn’t hesitate to question your position and capabilities as a sorcerer after every mission. you don;t need gojo to survive, you could stand up for yourself, but you deserved more than to be left in the lurch at such a volatile time with suguru’s defection. 

there’s a dampness in your palm and you wince as you realise how tightly you had been clenching your fists.

gojo reaches out for your bloodied hands and you flinch away, finally turning back to look at him.

he’s stunning.

“don’t touch me,” you are quick to widen the distance between the two of you, wiping your hands on your dark skirt. for a moment there’s a parallel to all those months ago – when he’d decided to break up with you and cut you off from touching him with the same infinity that had once brought you so much joy. initially, allowing you to touch him had been his way of opening up, learning how to be vulnerable to the person he loves. he hadn’t needed to tell you you were over the moment he forced that barrier between you once more.

“i’m sorry.” his blue eyes aren’t as blue as they once were, their light dimmed, and he looks genuinely apologetic for overstepping. it doesn’t ease the ache.

the two of you take a breath and just stare. your eyes scan the face and body of the man who you thought you knew like the back of your hand. every scar on his body and every thought in his mind.

his lips quirk into a sad smile, “i love you.” your jaw clenches at his admission and you turn back to your boxes. 

he doesn’t mean it. he can’t.

“gojo,” you warn quietly, your thoughts quickly going into haywire at his confession because you’d be lying if you said you don’t love him too. in fact, you know you do – it’s what has driven your hatred towards him to blossom into a garden of sharp, bleeding roses.

“please stop calling me that,” he always hated to be reduced to the clan he is from. he takes a cautious step towards you as the words continue to spill from his lips. “i love you, i love you so much, but i have lost so much. i got scared and i pushed you away and it was so wrong of me–”

“i lost everything.” you look directly at him and you can only hope that he knows you’re referring to him and him alone. it isn’t that you consider everyone else expendable, you’re just capable of coping with the loss of them. a piece of you died a year ago and 

“but you’re not the strongest are you?” you click your tongue and almost laugh. he belongs in this world of sorcery more than you ever could. everything is reduced to power. “i’ve been this prodigy since as long as i can remember and i couldnt save haibara, i didn’t even realise suguru was spiralling and you…” 

“i was right here,” you press a finger directly into the centre of his chest to emphasise your point. somehow you manage not to hesitate and stutter as you realise he’s dropped his infinity for you again – even if it is just to allow you to prod him in anger. “i needed you. i lost someone who i saw as a little brother and then one of my best friends kills his parents and an entire village. i needed you.”

gojo’s left silent for a moment so you finish off, “you know how i find this society to be a prestigious bunch of shit but i stayed for you and you still left me. i would’ve done anything for you.” there’s those tears again. you need him out of your room and you need out of this world as soon as possible.

“i have two kids.”

“what?” you don’t bother to hide the hurt in your voice, nor the underlying tones of jealousy. you’d been out of his life for twelve months and he’d already moved on? and had kids? at nineteen?

“they were about to get sold to the zen’in clan-“ your eyebrows furrow as the pieces of the puzzle come together. 

“fushiguro’s?” you cut him off to ask tentatively, and gojo nods. you take a seat on your bed. you’re not quite sure you can handle anything coming out of his mouth without risking passing out from the sheer overwhelmingness of it all. how dare he waltz back into your life, announce he has two kids that he was willingly raising to ensure they didn’t become victims of the zen’in clan? for what? as a favour for the man who basically killed him not even three years prior?

gojo flashes you a sheepish smile, clasping his hands together as he rocked back and forth on his heels nervously. “want to raise them with me?”

taglist ! @sanokiss ! @dummyf ! @erenssin ! @makiuchiha97 ! @sosoa ! @bontensh0e ! @cole-silas ! @fenrysashryver ! @istanuwow !

In the summer-like colors running down my cheeks

The words that curse you are stuck in the back of my throat

"Will we meet again?"

(I don’t like putting watermarks so, PLEASE, if you want to post these gifs somewhere GIVE CREDITS! Also, don’t use them in edits/videos. Thanks~)

MAJOR JUJUTSU KAISEN ANIME + MANGA SPOILERS

megumi:

the aloof yet caring character, something anyone would love. what interests me most about megumi is not what sukuna finds interesting about him, but his moral compass.

megumi has stated multiple times that he only saves those who he deems as worthy of saving. that mindset isn’t like what yuuji preaches throughout the duration of the anime and manga. yuuji hopes to save everyone and anyone who is suffering from the cursed spirits. megumi always questions “who the hell am i supposed to save?”, which then comes to the conclusion that he should save whoever he wants. not to be a person who is deemed as nice, like his sister tsumiki.

is that a valid way of thinking? is saving whoever you wish, bad?

the answer is that there is no answer.

yuuji believes that by giving everyone a chance to live out their lives, he is doing good for the people. but what challenges this idea is whether it’s a good idea to save people who are considered “bad”? the act of saving people, in general, is “good”, or whatever “good” is. but in this eternal bleak, there is so much that happens. how to we come to the conclusion of the two polar choices?

megumi challenges yuuji’s moral compass. gojou’s moral compass also challenges yuuji’s.

i agree with megumi. saving those who i believe is worthy is the only way i know-how. unlike gojou, i don’t have the power to say i could make those decisions. but i wonder, is megumi’s way of thinking, selfish? i don’t know when the situation of saving someone arises, but if it comes, what would i do?

what would you do?

v <3