#being fushiguro megumi is suffering :’))

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

when yuuji and megumi finally got together, what were everyone’s reactions? like inumaki and panda obviously threatened yuuji in the most nonsensical way possible but what about gojo and nanami and the others? like finally seeing their little boy grow up to be old enough to date and immediately going for the worst possible candidate in a lot of people’s minds *cough—the zenin—cough*.

if gojo was on the verge of a mental breakdown from just giving Megumi The Talk, i can’t imagine just how hard it hit him that his little sea urchin was growing up so fast.

What must be understood is that the second years have been following their relationship from its inception like it’s their favorite soap opera. Maki clocked it when Megumi tried to kill Kamo Noritoshi with an elephant over him and all of them have been overly invested in it since. Those are their beloved kohais. They’re both so stupid and vulnerable. Like idiot babies. They want them to be happy idiot babies who hold hands.

Yuuta would fight special grade curses with one hand and text Maki with the other to find out if they were dating yet and maki would text back “no but they each killed a special grade and megumi has a domain expansion now” and Yuuta would text back “what am I MISSING”. Inumaki thought if they gave them nine years or so megumi would work himself up to a hand graze and Yuuta would freak out because they don’t have that kind of TIME. Panda texted Yuuta in a panic weeks after everyone else figured it out to tell him that he thinks megumi and the kid who’s sukunas vessel like each other and Yuuta had to pretend to be surprised as if the entire matter was not giving him stress sweats from Africa.

The unofficial reaction was that maki sent a gif of a ship coming into port into the group chat and everyone celebrated like it was new years and the ball had just dropped because thank fuck it finally happened.

As a side note, the second years all consider themselves parents of three and are only half joking about that fact. It’s so hard raising teens. The little shits keep fighting things. None of them have any social skills. All three of them are completely feral. They’re pretty sure nobara bit a purse snatcher the last time they went out into the city.

But that was the unofficial reaction. They can’t tell Megumi or Yuuji about that.

Yuuta actually gets a call from Megumi to tell him that he has a boyfriend, and he had to pretend like all this was news to him as if he had not spent the past three months more invested in this than anything in his own life. Yuuta told him that he was happy for him, and that he couldn't wait to meet Yuuji, and lived in blissful ignorance about the fact that Yuuji screamed into his own pillow for twenty minutes that night because Megumi came and told him that Okkotsu-senpai was important to him and he'd like it if they got to know each other.

Maki started a campaign of teasing Megumi about his new boyfriend, because she sort of loves giving her little nephew shit. Megumi wonders why life has to be this hard.

Inumaki and Panda had already given Yuuji the shovel talk (it was part of what made Yuuji realize he was completely in love with Megumi) and had a stunningly moving congratulations and dating advice speech for Yuuji that featured a power point presentation.

Its moving nature was slightly impacted by the fact that Inumaki gave it.

Inumaki patted him manfully on the back, and Panda gave him a brotherly hair ruffle, and Yuuji continued to be confused as to what the hell was up with the second years.

The issue with Gojo is that they can never tell when he's taking the piss or if he's being genuine. Like, Gojo loves giving him a hard time. It's a classic "Fushiguro is getting hit on" conundrum. Is he actually devastated that his little boy is growing up or is he just doing it to fuck with them?

Megumi insists that he's doing it to be an idiot and refuses to speak to him for days, which does not help with all the weeping.

Whatever the case, it's enough to annoy Nanami, because he keeps agonizing over how his baby was swept up by some jock who was going to steal his sweetness and Nanami would take offense on Yuuji's behalf because Itadori Yuuji is a gentleman and a delightful young man and Gojo should be glad that Megumi is dating someone like him.

Megumi wonders why life has to be this hard sometimes.

Nanami is just happy for them both and gives them both private congratulations wherein he tells them that he's glad they have each other and that they are good together. He is the most normal of them all.

[bibemiiu]

Megumi’s guilt

[awesomenikie]

It’s crazy that people are mad at megumi for not having the will to go on .Honestly if I were him I would’ve given up much sooner. Like this shit sucks and the future is not looking bright.

[laindir]

“Or something worse happens to her”

You know how sometimes you keysmash a random, half-serious tweet mindlessly into the void almost exactly ONE year ago, only for it to seemingly be true now ???

what the hell Akutamiiiii lol

[ashasdiary]

Ovulation

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

Synopsis: Toji is away for work while you are ovulating — and you are suffering deeply from needingtobefuckeditis. When he returns, boy does he deliver. 

CW: horniness like you’ve never felt before, mentions of masturbation, established relationship, smut — unprotected sex, spanking, creampie, overstimulation?, anal fingering, squirting, hair pulling, dom!Toji, breeding kink (MDNI) WC: 4k A/N: oh to be Toji’s toy during ovulation… 😵‍💫

You could not think straight. Usually, the ovulation stage of your cycle would bring the to be expected egg white and some out of pocket dirty thoughts here and there, but this time? Your reproductive organs were on steroids. 

Even before your period had ended, your mind had been clouded with such downright dirty thoughts of being absolutely rawed that you worried to think what your body would be like once it actually did finish. 

And oh, were you ill-prepared. 

It hit you with full force the first morning without your period. All you could think about was sex. Of being fucked so good that you’d see god. Of your cunt being used and abused in the way that she was clearly craving so fucking badly. Of being so stuffed full of cum that it would leak out all over your legs. 

Going to work in these conditions was brutal. The work day was ordinarily not so long, but now? You were suffering. To add insult to injury, Toji was out of town for work, so you had no one to satisfy you except the sad little piece of plastic in your bedside drawer. 

You had long retired your rabbit since being with Toji, for obvious reasons, the main being that nothing and no one could ever come close to him. And you’d gotten so used to how good he would give it to you that you knew that nothing you could do with the rabbit would ever compare. 

Every time he was away, you’d have no communication until he came back, which you understood due to his line of work, but right now, you hated that fact because you wish you could at least hear his voice. Something, anything from him would help. 

So here you were, on day 2 of your ovulation phase, trying to get Megumi to sleep sooner so you could get to bed yourself. 

When he eventually did fall asleep, you darted out of his room and into yours, pulling off your clothes hastily and grabbing your current sleeping companion from the nightstand. 

While it wasn’t Toji, you managed to satiate your aching cunt for the time being. 

The next day was ever the challenge, but thankfully you had some tasks at work that required additional brain power so this distracted you briefly from the dire need to be fucked.

The constant horniness was getting tiring without Toji truly satisfying it, but you did your best to nonetheless, counting down the days until he’d come home, which — you check your watch — should be in 3 days, 2 hours, and 24 minutes. 

You decided to get creative with your methods, one such being a Pilates class. Your friend had told you, verbatim, “If you want to feel like you’ve been bent over, disrespectfully, and have your legs quaking by the end, go to a Pilates class.”

So you had decided to do just that. Megumi had a babysitter for that evening while you were at the class, so you got to fully immerse yourself into it. You did not expect it to be so difficult, having to bend your body into all these different positions and engaging your core in a way that you’d never felt before. The burn was undeniable and strangely, you did find that it helped somewhat. 

Your muscles truly ached the next day, a Friday. This helped keep the dirty thoughts and the horny feelings at bay as you winced from the muscle ache at work, but by the time you got home, your mind had clouded once again.

You had Megumi to tend to for the evening until his bedtime, so you had to keep it all at bay while you watched over the sweet boy. He was a great kid and you were grateful that he was as such. 

Finally, finally, you tuck him into bed a few hours later and make sure he’s asleep before you shut his door and head into yours like a woman on a mission. 

Day 4 of ovulation and it was probably the worst of them all. The desperation you were feeling was like you were a bitch in heat.

So, imagine the sheer anger that strikes through you when you find that your rabbit’s batteries had died and you had no spare ones to hand. Of fucking course. 

Toji is very many things. Toji is a punctual man. (Or, at least, he tells himself that. He tries to be.)

He had told you he’d be home after his mission on Sunday afternoon, and usually his missions take the whole predicted time, but this mission he’d gotten lucky with and he’d managed to finish up quicker than anticipated by Friday evening. He was happy about that; he’d be getting paid the same figure and also get to go home sooner. 

While he’s making the journey home, he wonders what he’d do with his “paid time off” as you’d call it — probably primarily family time with you and Megumi. You. He’d missed you, your voice, and your sweet body. He wouldn’t say it outright, but he was excited to see you. And so was his cock. 

Toji had expected to arrive home to a quiet, dark house since it was nighttime and you loved your beauty sleep. What he didn’t expect was to find you splayed out open on the bed, fingers knuckle deep as you pump them furiously in and out of your weeping pussy, quiet mewls falling from you as you gasp and rub quick circles on your swollen clit. 

Toji can do very many things. Arriving early to places is not one of them, you’ll note. 

Your eyes were closed and your face twisted into one of pleasure as you made do with your hands and fingers, but you opened them to watch yourself when you suddenly notice Toji stood in the doorway, raging hard on poking through his pants, and you instantly stop. 

“Toji?” You sit up quickly, unable to believe the sight before you. Were you so far gone that you’d imagined him? 

“Oh, don’t stop, baby, I was enjoying the show,” he husks, a sexy smirk on his lips as he kicks the door shut and stalks towards you. 

You kneel over to the end of the bed and let out a soft whine when he pulls off his shirt and comes to stand in front of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He was real. When you break apart for air, you sigh, “I can’t believe you’re home already, I was going insane without you.”

“That so?” He chuckles lowly, big hands groping the bare skin of your hips and sliding back to your ass as he connects your lips again. He can sense some urgency in the way you kiss. “Unwrapped my gift for me, huh?”

“I’m ovulating, Toji. I’ve been fucking feral. I needed you so bad this past week…I still do. I need it. I feel like I’m going to die if you don’t give it to me,” you look at him and he can see the desperation in your eyes. 

He laughs quietly, letting you open the ribbon of his pants, “Death by lack of dick. Interesting way to go.”

“I’m serious, Toji,” you responded, pulling him onto the bed with his pants at his knees. He lets them fall down the rest of the way and he kisses you again, hungrier this time. You moan into his mouth, lying back and pulling him on top of you. He hovers over you, your legs instantly wrapping around his hips. 

You feel the hot press of his heavy cock against your puffy folds, and the excitement of finally getting what you had been longing for, for this entire week gives you a rush. He grunts as he rocks his hips into yours, covering his thick cock with the copious amounts of wetness that had already accumulated at your core. The rubbing of his cock on your clit makes you mewl and you get restless, reaching down to guide him into you. 

“So needy for me, aren’t you? My perfect little wife,” he hums against your mouth and you lift your hips, pumping him with your hand once, twice, before you’re guiding him into your waiting entrance. She’d been waiting for this, waiting for him, and the pure relief that you feel of his cock filling you and stretching your walls is something heavenly. 

You let out a filthy moan when he bottoms out inside you, and he covers your mouth with his large hand, “Meg’s sleeping, sweetheart, I know you’ve been waiting for this but keep it down.”

You swallow, biting your lip and nodding before he gives you a dirty grind of his hips, his pubic bone grazing your clit. You nearly go cross eyed at the pure bliss this gives you. Truth be told, he was surprised at how easily you’d taken all of him on the first try, but he wasn’t complaining. You were snug as always, wrapped around him so perfectly like you were moulded just for him. 

He draws his hips back and you let out a gasp at the heavy feeling of his cock dragging against your plush walls. When he thrusts back into you, you feel like you might explode. You need him to fuck you senseless. 

“Faster, baby, please,” you plead, grasping onto his beefy arms, nails digging in a little. 

“I love when you beg for me,” he murmurs, lips curled into a smirk as he sucks on your neck. He rolls his hips steadily a few more times, ever the tease, but then he obliges with your request, quickening his pace. He brings his lips to yours in an open mouthed, breathy, messy kiss while he fucks you into the mattress, then leans back because he wants to watch the way you fall apart under him. 

You’re on cloud nine; there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of having a craving fulfilled, nothing better than the pleasure of Toji putting you through the mattress. You try to stifle your moans but you can’t, your face twisted in pleasure as he rams his thick, delicious cock into your needy cunt over and over again. 

It’s when he grabs your legs from your knees, pushing them up one at a time to fold you in half, that you feel the tingles of your orgasm fast approaching. He hooks his arms under your thighs and pins you to the bed that way, fucking into you rougher despite you being tighter around him now. “Ah— mm, T-Toji-!” Your hands trail up around his shoulders, nails leaving angry red tracks on his muscled back while he pistons his hips repeatedly into yours, the sound of your hips colliding echoing in the room alongside your lewd moans. 

You can feel your orgasm approaching fast and you grip onto him, gazing up at him, dazed. “Cum f’me, sweetness— hah— oh, fuck,” he grunts, dipping his head to tease your taut nipple with the flat of his tongue. 

He loved having you in this position, he loved testing fate every time you fucked like so. It’s the combination of your carnal desire being satisfied, his mouth on your tits, the deep plunge of his cock inside you, and his direct order that sends you over the edge into the deepest depths of euphoria with a moan so dirty it sounds like a cry. The wave that overcomes your body makes you stiffen and your walls pulse so tightly that it almost becomes painful while he continues to fuck you through it. 

“That’s it, baby, f-fuck, give it to me,” Toji groans, hips stuttering as he feels his balls tighten, signalling his imminent release. He pants as he keeps thrusting, and you pull his face up to yours so that you can kiss him. Tongues tangled, his pleasure overcomes him and he buries himself deep inside you as he cums, releasing his thick ropes into your waiting cunt. 

He breathes heavily and tries to catch his breath for a moment, lips moving lazily against yours. You bask in the delicious feeling of him fucking his cum inside you. 

You’re holding onto him tightly as he releases your legs and you wrap them around his waist again, letting out a quiet mewl when you feel him slip from your confines. “Baby…wait…” 

“Remind me to go on missions while you’re ovulating,” he says, a smirk curling at his lips while he pecks kisses on your jaw, “we should do that again sometime.”

You feel up his back, a part of him you loved especially, already feeling empty and wanting more of him. “Sometime? How about… again, right now?” You suggest, and he stops for a second, looking down at you incredulously. 

“Wh—now?” He repeats and you nod, biting your bottom lip as you bring your hand to cup his face. Thumb caressing his cheek, he turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, his eyes hooded as he feels the rush of arousal through his body once again. His cock was still hard and he grabs your face in both his hands, crashing his lips to yours in a rush of desire. You moan into his mouth as he pushes his tongue past the seam of your lips and against yours. 

You push him up and this causes him to break the kiss as he sits back on his haunches and waits to see what you want to do. Precum oozes from his slit when he watches you get on all fours and rock your hips sensually for him. 

The mess between your thighs drips down them, but you don’t care. You just needed him, again. You wanted more. You wanted all of him. You arch your back, bringing your arms down so you can rest on your elbows. “I want you this way,” you tell him and he wets his lips as he kneels behind you. 

He’d never seen you be this damn needy. It was so sexy to him.  

Large hands grabbing your hips, he rests his heavy cock on the crack of your ass as he reaches around you to toy with your clit. You keen at the calculated movement of his thick fingers, absentmindedly pushing your hips back against his. “God, Toji…” you sigh contently, eager to have him inside you again. 

He can be a tease sometimes and make you beg for it, but right now, he was more than happy to entertain this. Taking his hand away from your clit, he holds onto your hip while he guides his leaking cock into your cunt. You keen at the feeling, the difference in position being felt entirely. You rest your cheek against the bed with a breathy sigh.

He feeds you inch by delicious inch of his thick cock, letting out a tsk when your walls clench around him involuntarily. He swats your ass in response and you let out a small cry, the sting of it going straight to your pussy. He finally bottoms out inside you again, and he pulses his hips, his balls teasing your throbbing clit. 

“O-oh…mmnh…” you let out incoherent sounds, gripping the bedsheets when he draws his hips back until only his tip was inside you, slamming his hips into yours with a forceful thrust. 

He begins a brutal pace, the sound of your hips slapping together even louder than before. Your eyes are screwed shut as you enjoy the feeling of being thoroughly fucked, your mouth agape while he pulls you back onto his cock. 

It’s too much, too fast, your brain can hardly keep up with the fast pace of his. He’s drawing out lewd and dirty moans of his name from you, to which he reaches up and wraps his hand around your hair, pulling on it a little. “I told you to be quiet, sweet thing.”

You bury your face into the sheets and muffle your moans while he continues to ravage your greedy cunt. He releases your hair and lets out a low growl at the sight of your pussy creaming around his dick. Toji loves your ass. It’s why he doesn’t even think about it before he’s gathering your slick and teasing your asshole with his finger. 

He’s fucking you into oblivion now, and the sensations are getting slightly overwhelming but you want to power through because you’d been needing this like you needed air. You wanted this. 

With each mean thrust of his cock against your plush walls, you edge closer and closer to another, no doubt, life changing orgasm. 

“Takin’ me so damn good, baby,” he grits out, dipping his finger into your ass as he continues his mean pace, the thump, thump, thump of his hips hitting yours like the base of a delightful melody. 

And boy, oh, boy, was he playing your body like his favourite instrument. 

It’s when he’s fully fingering your ass that it happens all at once, your orgasm hits you in an instant and a sudden rush washes over you; a pressure in your abdomen being released as you squirt all over him and the bed. You cry out, tears in your eyes from the ecstasy of it all, your legs almost giving out. 

He lets out a gasp, both from the surprise of you squirting all of a sudden, and from the sheer strength of your orgasm which had your walls gripping him so tightly that he struggled to keep his own at bay. Again. Fuck, you were addictive. “Jesus—! Fuck!” He hisses through clenched teeth. 

The mess of your squirt, your juices and your cream covered his lower abdomen and he was living for being this fucking filthy with you. He fucks into you a few more times before he starts to cum, slamming his hips into yours again and again to ride through it. His breath shudders as he slows gradually to a stop. He stays there, plugging his cum in you, and you inhale shaky breaths, eyes still closed. 

Toji can do very many things, especially with you. Fucking like rabbits was one of his favourite. 

He bows over your back, panting for breath, and you both fall onto your sides as you come down from the high. He caresses your hip, where he’d held a bruising grip on you before. You take a moment to gather yourself, and you move off of him, your puffy pussy feeling (and looking, Toji noted) truly abused by that point. You grab the glass of water you’d put on the bedside table earlier and take a long sip, rehydrating yourself. 

Toji rolls onto his back, closing his eyes, hand splayed on his abs. You let yourself shamelessly ogle his body while you drink your water; eyes raking down from his pretty face to his large torso, bulging pecs, defined abs, prominent v-line that led straight to his beautiful, big, curved, and still hard but slowly softening cock. 

You salivated at the sight of it. The tiredness in your body starts to dissipate the more you look at him. 

More, more, more. You wanted more. 

You set your glass down and crawl over to him, straddling his hips. He opens his eyes at this and gazes up at you in question. As far as he was concerned, you should have been satiated following that last round. 

He can see the glint of mischief in your eyes as you reach between you and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping it slowly. He doesn’t protest — if anyone can keep up with you it’s him — and he watches with piqued interest at how you work his cock so easily, doing all the right things that he likes. 

“We already got this messy and you wanna go again?” He inquires, and you nod lazily, thumbing over his slit and smirking to yourself when you feel it jump. Not only are you stroking his cock but you’re also stroking his ego, and he is thoroughly enjoying being the recipient of both of those things. 

It doesn’t take much before he’s rock hard again, and he’s groping your ass as you lift your hips and aligning him at your entrance, sinking down onto him in one smooth and steady motion. 

He grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he gazes up at you, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head as you feel yourself being split apart on his thick cock for the third time that evening. 

You didn’t need much time to adjust to him so you rock your hips back and forth, feeling the base of his cock catch at your clit, making you cream around him. Toji’s groans are deep and rumble from within his chest as you take the reins, lifting your hips and sinking back down, over and over, desperately. You look so wanton as you ride him, your pretty tits bouncing in his face so he can’t help but give them the attention they deserve. 

You clench around him when you feel his mouth on you, so messy with it; open mouthed kisses, sucking, licking, damn near drooling all over your chest. 

“Christ, you’re gonna end up pregnant at this rate,” he says with a warning tone, but you only look at him with hooded eyes.

“What if that’s what I want, Toji?” You murmur, bouncing your hips faster. “What if I want you to put a baby in me?” 

“Yeah? Wanna give Gumi a sibling, huh?” He rasps, squeezing your ass tightly. 

It was at that point that you go onto autopilot, your body moving on its own accord, fucking down onto him with such carnal need that you felt like an animal. 

“Yes…yes, fuck, Toji, yes,” you ramble, feeling that you’re nearing your release. You reach back and play with his balls, squeezing them, pulling ever so gently, wanting him to cum with you. 

“I’m gonna give it all to you, pretty. Gonna give you every last fuckin’ drop,” his chest rises and falls quicker as you both get closer and closer to the edge. 

You lean forward and bounce your hips faster, filthy moans being drawn from your lips which Toji tries to quieten by crushing his lips on yours in a bruising kiss.

You both reach your peaks within seconds of one another, and you try to keep your pace to ride through it but you simply give into the rush of your orgasm and let it take hold of your body. Toji shoots his hot load into you, holding your hips tightly as you both let out breathy moans of each other’s names alongside profanity. 

Your walls greedily milk him of every drop that he has to give, and you sigh in contentment as you relax against him, sweaty but satisfied. 

Your legs had gone jelly now, the lactic acid build up was catching up to you. Many won’t know this but Toji does have an attentive side that he keeps reserved for you (and his son sometimes). You find yourself smiling when he brings his hands to your thighs and massages them gently, squeezing your muscles a little to get rid of the lactic acid burn. 

You kiss him slowly, taking your time to savour the taste of him. 

“Can we go again?” You ask with a needy tone, but you couldn’t quite hide the slight tiredness in your voice. 

“Honey, we’ve gotta pump the brakes…I’m tired as shit right now and I need— we both need to sleep,” he sighs, running a hand up over his face, pushing his hair back a little. 

You pout at him, rubbing the base of his neck and leaning in to suck a dark mark onto his skin, knowing you’d have to let up. “Tomorrow, then? Breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”

“Do I look like a buffet to you?” He quips, and you dissolve into a fit of laughter. “But…fine. Since you asked so nicely.”

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

Divider by cafekitsune

[meiieiri]

when do we get to see megumi in your new series ^3^

𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ! [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: “you really are your mother’s son,” toji grumbles to megumi as the little brat yet again refuses another kiss from him.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | art: @/amulin67 on twt/ig | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: n/a | a/n: finally welcoming megumi to this series, yay! 💓💞

“I’m just gonna go nap for a bit. Promise me you’ll wake me up if something happens. But either way, his bottle is over there, just heat it up when he gets hungry and you know where his diapers are—“

You are interrupted by a sweet kiss that still manages to catch you off guard ‘till this day.

“I wasn’t done, you know.” You place your hands on your hips, shooting him a warning glance. “And don’t you go tossing him too high. Need I remind you, our apartment has a literal ceiling fan—“

“—You worry too much,” Toji cuts you off again with another kiss. “Not gonna lie though, seeing you all worked up like that is kinda turning me on.”

“You’re horrible,” you conclude. Honestly, at this point, almost anything and everything you do can be classified as a thirst trap for Toji. You blush when Toji inches closer, his hips pressed against yours, a smirk plastered on his face when he sneakily squeezes your ass causing you to yelp. “Ah! Toji!” you swat his hand away, burying your blushing face in his chest.

Chuckling at you, he plants a soft kiss on your temple as he pulls away. “Alright, mama, go get some rest. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Thank you.”

No one ever told you that motherhood would be so stressful. Which is why you’re so blessed to have a supportive husband who may have started out a little awkward with caring for your newborn son but gradually became a natural with this whole fatherhood business as time went by. And that’s mostly because when Megumi arrived in this world at half past two in the afternoon of December 22 with nothing more but a small hiccup as he slipped into his papa’s waiting arms, Toji fell in love. And you don’t pretend to not know why. Because whenever you look at Megumi, your heart always just seems to melt at his pudgy rose-colored cheeks and his deep expressive green eyes that fill up with tears regardless if he’s crying or being overcome by a laughing fit whenever you pepper his tiny face with kisses.

Speaking of kisses, today’s latest fiasco is centered exactly on that: kisses.

You see, you have this habit that goes way back to when you and Toji first started dating. Toji remembers it well, you have certain moods when it comes to kisses. Sometimes, you’re the one initiating it which mostly results in Toji becoming an incoherent blushing mess, or most times, Toji gets the party started by slowly kissing up your neck, his breath hot on your earlobe as he presses his hips against yours while you slept fitfully, your hushed dulcet whines ringing in his ear as your lips instinctively find each other. Fun fact: that’s exactly how Megumi came to be.

But there are times too, when you were just not having it and you’d gently nudge Toji’s face away when he tries to kiss you.

It was a typical afternoon. Toji didn’t have work that day which was a huge relief for him because you’ve been suffering from dizziness and lower back pain all day. And being the helicopter partner and soon-to-be papa that he is, Toji keeps a close eye on you as you nap the afternoon away on the couch. He smiles softly as he sees you instinctively put a protective hand over your belly whenever you’d feel the slightest movements from the baby.

“Shhh, you’re alright,” he’d whisper to you as you slept, combing his fingers through your hair, a permanent worried frown on his face when a whimper falling from your pursed lips as the baby kicks you again. “It’s just the overgrown parasite fidgeting around.”

“Don’t call him that.” You brush his hand away, your eyebrows knitting in discomfort.

Toji chuckles, going to press a kiss to your soft lips only for you to place your entire palm on his face, applying gentle force to pry him away. “I mean, what is he then? Other than this thing that competes for your nutrients? He’s—“

“—Our baby boy.”

“—An overgrown parasite.”

Fuming at his words, you decide to hit back with a quick retort of your own. “Yeah? It really does take one to know one, huh?”

“What a cute comeback but maybe not as cute as you,” Toji smirks, his hand gently removing your smaller one from his face, his lips puckered up as he leans in. Teasingly, you place a hand over your lips, still refusing to indulge him with his much-craved kisses. “Come on, I just want one sloppy one~”

“No!” Your laughter-filled voice comes out muffled against your palm.

“Mm, yes,” Toji teases. “Yes. Come on, baby, just one.”

“You and I both know it’s never just one.”

Of course. Why else would you be in this situation if Toji knew how to spell the words: self and control? Still, it’s not like the two of you were complaining. After all, the bond you and Toji share is an unbreakable one that’s only been strengthened by time and the many trials you’ve survived together. And now, the arrival of the very product of your love is only a hair’s breath away. Toji rests his chin on top of your head, plopping down next to you and spooning you from behind. “Guilty as charged.”

And unfortunately, it seemed your son had inherited that troublesome quirk of yours and it’s beginning to break Toji’s infuriated heart because whenever he tries to give Megumi a kiss…

“Mmph—“

There it was.

Toji’s eyes shot open, grimacing as Megumi turns his head away, his eyes trained stubbornly on his dog plushie, and his chubby hands pushing his poor papa’s chin away with all the might a six-month-old like him could muster. And to top things off, he must be imagining things because newborns surely couldn’t scowl right? Their tiny little brains couldn’t possibly have enough electrical energy to charge a snow globe much less, learn how to hate certain people’s kisses.

“You little shit—“

Sure enough, the tiny little baby seems gravely unamused, his eyebrows are knitted, the corner of his lips curled into a disappointed frown as if to say: Go kiss someone else, you even bigger shit.

Toji mirrors the unfriendly scowl on his son’s face, noting how Megumi seems to be glaring at him. Oh, okay. The brat ain’t messing around, his eyes twitches but somehow, Toji is also a picture of a proud father. At least the little shit’s got spunk. And he wonders momentarily who he should blame for that.

Definitely not him, that’s for sure.

Toji doesn’t recall the last time he’s ever had the comforts of a peace like this one. Actually, this might just be the first time that Toji knew what that word meant: “peace”. A freedom from disturbance; tranquility, as per the Merriam Webster Dictionary. But Toji has a better definition for peace: you and Megumi.

But…

“I meant what I said to your mother though,” Toji engages in a one-way conversation with his son. He won’t recall any of this, but it didn’t hurt for Toji to be candid about his feelings every now and then especially when it came to this little one that came accidentally into your lives but brightened it up nonetheless. “The two of you would be better off — maybe even happier — with someone else.” He presses his thumb against Megumi’s cheek. “It’s what you two deserve.”

He’s been gone close to a whole day now and you were probably beginning to worry. Out of all the shitty things Toji has done, this, by far, has to be the shittiest. Standing outside a pachinko den, his back pressed against the wall, and his hand absentmindedly playing with the tokens he just bought. When he left the apartment that day, you knew that could very well be the last time you ever see him. Types like him aren’t keen on the whole picket fence idea of settling down.

“I’m heading out today.”

Your blood runs cold when Toji steps into the kitchen to inform you of his plans. You don’t even bother to look at him, your gaze simply settled on the positive pregnancy test on the table. The right thing to do was to stay, he should have held you in his arms and tell you that everything’s going to be okay not plant seeds of doubt in your mind by taking off and running away like a coward.

But for once, Toji was scared.

He had no business becoming a father when he’s lived in a dysfunctional household for majority of his life. What good would he even impart to his child? His pathetic existence has been a picture of disorder that was only recently resolved when you came into the picture. Well, if he were being completely honest, he still hasn’t figured things out quite as well yet. And as a father, that could be catastrophic for a child that required stability if nothing else.

Frowning, Toji leaves the pachinko den, chucking the tokens in the trash. It was far too early in the day to be hanging around shady places like these anyway. He wanders the streets for a good while, his hands buried in his jacket’s pockets as his mind swirls with thoughts about the all too terrifying future.

A pang of guilt strikes his heart and he wonders what you’re doing now. You must still be in the kitchen, your face buried in your hands as you try to think of something. You were probably assuming he wasn’t coming back. After all, you did say: “I don’t wanna pressure you into staying, Toji. You deserve to live your life the way you want it.”

A life without you? Sounds pretty miserable.

Toji must have been walking on autopilot because for some reason, he unknowingly finds himself in front of a bank. Mizuho Bank, Toji reads the sign, his eyes flicking over to one of the posters plastered on the window about opening a savings account.

He looks at the promotional material, transfixed at the picture of a family of four donning on those typical wide stupid grins in ads, the father is holding a hundred yen bill and is seen dropping it into a piggy bank that was filled with both cash and words like: health insurance, family vacation, utility bills, rent, tax, school, and…happiness.

…

…

…

Toji returns to the apartment at around eight in the evening after making a quick stop at the supermarket and the pharmacy. He finds you asleep on the couch, your cheeks stained with dry tears. He crouches on the edge of the couch, worriedly taking in your appearance. You’ve been crying. “Hey…hey, wake up,” he gently shakes you awake and your tired eyes flutter open. “Got you something.”

He holds out a shopping bag, chock full of fresh produce, and from the pharmacy, some camphor oil to relieve your symptoms and those folate supplements the attending pharmacist kept yapping about.

“You didn’t leave,” you said, bewildered. “I thought you—“

“—You thought wrong,” Toji says firmly. He pulls out something from his back pocket and you stare at him, perplexed.

“A bank passbook?” You open it to see that Toji had just made his first deposit amounting to fifty thousand yen earlier today. “You opened a savings account?”

Toji nods, looking a little proud of himself. “Yeah,” he tries to play it off with a shrug of his shoulders. “Every week, we’ll be depositing fifteen thousand yen in that thing. Ten thousand for your maternity needs, and five for the little brat’s schooling one day.”

Tears spring to your eyes upon realizing that Toji was here to stay. “You mean you’re—?” You are cut off by a warm kiss on your lips, and you place a hand over Toji’s chest, your fingertips gripping the fabric of his shirt as his lips move against yours. He pulls away after a while.

“Gonna spite the hell out of the Zenin clan and send my brat to the most expensive preschool in Tokyo? Yes, I am.”

Toji sighs, his thumb rubbing across Megumi’s chubby cheek. “But maybe — just maybe — hear me out and don’t you give me another glare.” Megumi’s not gonna remember any of this. After all, memories begin when the brain can fully register speech. But Toji felt the need to say this so, subconsciously, his son will understand just how much he’s done and he’s willing to do for the both of you.

“…Maybe I deserve the two of you too, you know.”

Megumi looks up at his father, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. Toji sticks his tongue out at the little one causing the latter to…hiccup? Nah, Toji was sure that was a giggle.

Smirking, Toji leans down to give his son a kiss, thinking he’s patched things up between them now only for Megumi to curl up again, his feet and hands resisting against Toji, his lip downturned in effort as he pushes him away yet again. Conceding, Toji grumbles, rubbing the spot where Megumi roughly pushed him away.

“You really are your mother’s son.”

[millaaster]

How They Treat You During Periods - Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (Separate)

Summary: How some of the JJK men react to and treat you during periods!

Words: 1051

CW: SFW; Fluff; Domestic Fluff; Crack; Periods; Blood mentions.

AN: this a complex topic because everybody who menstruates has a different organism and a different dynamic, so this is very based on my own experiences, but i tried thinking about situations that could include more people ok :')

Please, do not repost or translate.

GOJO SATORU - More chill than you thought he would be. The first time you talked about it was when you had cramps during a date and tried to talk him out of doing anything.

He just came right out "Hey, there's nothing to be shy about! I'm just definitely not letting my woman suffer in front of me just to save face!" 

He sits you down, holds you close and asks if you're ok. "If you don't have medicine on you, we can stop by a store to get it while heading to your place". Escorts you home, makes you tea and tucks you in to nap. 

After you've been together long enough he's started getting real good at tracking your cycles and adjusting whatever plans you have. "Hm... honey, I've been thinking of taking some days off and heading to the beach, but next week would be no good for you right? Should we wait a little?" 

He stuffs you in candy and treats if you're feeling down (sure he'll snatch some of those...). 

One day you get a message from him:

"Babe SOS   Do we have any first aid home?  My nose is kinda bleeding...hehe"

"Toru!! You ok??  There should be some cotton balls in the bathroom" 

When you get home you find him with a whole ass tampon stuck up his nostril...."Satoru!!! What the hell are you doing?!?"

"Oh hey, honey! Sorry, couldn't find the cotton balls but figured this was even better and it DOES work wonders!", he tells you with a proud grin on his face... 

GETO SUGURU - Suguru may seem a little indifferent, but it's just that he doesn't want to step over your independence. He's trying not to overdo things and will only act after you actively ask for something.

That being said, if that's what you want, he's an expert in doing your chores and cleaning the house for you. 

He was once doing the laundry and you caught him staring at your sheets.

"Something wron-" you gasp, realizing there's a big blotch of blood in it.

"Babe! You don't have to wash this one!" you cry, feeling your face burn red.

"What are you talking about? I was just trying to remember how to take off blood stains", lifting it out of your reach as you try to grab it. "Was it vinegar or lemon..." he mumbles, walking over to your kitchen cabinets. 

He secretly enjoys that you get mellower and needy with him. You won't have to ask twice if you demand an extra tight hug. 

Loves aromatherapy and gave you a whole kit with a diffuser and oils that ease pain and help with relaxation. If you don't use it he'll pout and nag non stop until you turn it on. "Suuuguu...you're giving me more headaches than my uterus right now dear..." "If you had it on from the start there would be no ache whatsoever, dummy!" 

He's now GREAT with massages. You've always complained about how your back and thighs ache when you're menstruated, so he took some lessons to help you out with that. 

NANAMI KENTO - With Nanami it's princess treatment all the way! This man thinks it's freaking amazing how you'll have to deal with this for so long in your life, through work and everything, and that you're badass for that. I mean, you're literally bleeding!!! That's concerning enough to happen to someone he loves. 

So he'll put all the effort he can to minimize any discomfort you have on those days. As soon as it became a regular thing for you to stay over at his place, he purchased all sorts of tea, heat pads and asked you to tell him what pads or tampons he should buy to stock some. 

He loves to have dates at home, so it's a win-win situation when you stay in; he cooks you something warm and lays around with you all day. "Is this position all right love?" While rubbing gently your stomach. 

He also loves to give you useful gifts, so once he even went as far as to surprise you with a new care kit from a high end brand in a box full of products to pamper you. 

The best to have around if you're out too. Never gets bothered if you have to go to the restroom too often and makes sure the place you're attending has good access to those. 

ITADORI YUJI - Freaks out a little when you tell him you don't feel like going on a date because you're on your period. He forgot such things were a very real thing if he was dating you. Has the mindset that, as his S/O, your period is his period too!! 

You're totally lost for words when he first tells you that.....he just means he feels responsible for your well being throughout this time. 

Definitely asks Nobara for help on how to help you feel better. 

He's a really active guy and always wants you to tag along and spend time with him, so he researched a lot about exercises that'll be better to practice during that time. 

At some point in your relationship will text you:

"yo babe, I'm at the pads aisle what's your pussy size??" 

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI - Also chill about it. An absolute angel when it comes to being patient to you, who turns into a SAINT if you're on your period. 

He just knows that there are better times to deal with any stressful matters than now, so it's only love with this guy for a few days. 

He prefers to talk to you in person instead of texting, but if you mention being on your period, you'll get the sweetest messages all day long popping up on your phone to check out how you're doing.

"Love, did you eat well?" "Hey, do you need anything?" "Sunshine, hope you're having a good day"  “Never forget you’re amazing”

Secretly, has also consulted Nobara and his sister to get some tips on what he could do.

Gets his dogs to cuddle with you in bed, to keep your belly warm, if he's busy around the house. 

He has a playlist with hours and hours of comfort movies you watch together when you don't want to leave the sofa/bed. He even watches your favorite shoujo with you if you ask!

A/N: also, yes, I do think Gojo and Geto being good parents (to Tsukimi, Mimiko and Nanako) have helped them learn about periods.

Interactions are always appreciated ☆* have a lovely day!

[mononijikayu]

dearest, darling, my universe — gojo satoru.

"He… he always knew what to say, didn’t he?" Megumi murmurs, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah." you reply, your voice thick with tears. "He always did." The weight of Satoru's absence presses heavily upon you, but the words on the paper offer a strange comfort, like a hand reaching out through the dark. You hold the letter tightly, almost as if you could draw him back with the force of your grip.

GENRE: post shinjiku showdown (spoilers for jjk chapter 268)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 11k words.

NOTE: my brothers caught a cold so i caught it too because that's just how it sometimes goes when you're always together. i've been writing a bunch of stuff in the mean time, cause i'm strong enough at least. but i hope you enjoy this. it took me a while to write this, but it's finally done. also, listen to iu's song love wins all while reading this. love you all!!!

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

IT’S BEEN A WHILE, BUT THINGS HAVE CHANGED. The world feels quiet now, almost unnaturally so, as if it is holding its breath, waiting to see what comes next. The grounds are empty, unlike how they used to be. The sky is heavy and dulled gray and the wind carries a strange stillness that presses against your skin. 

Everything seems suspended, caught in a moment that refuses to pass, a calm that feels more like a warning than a relief. It’s the kind of quiet that settles in after a storm — not the peace that follows resolution, but the heavy, fragile silence that comes when everything has been ripped apart, and nothing has been put back together.

Your gaze searches for someone as you look towards the horizon. It takes you a while, but you smile when you find that figure again. You sighed, he’s been there awhile. But you don't blame him. You think that Fushiguro Megumi feels like he’d find peace, if he sits there to wonder what had been before. You find him sitting on the bench your husband had loved to sit on years ago, his back turned to you. He is still, his head lowered, shoulders slumped, and you can see the way his body trembles with each ragged breath.

He’s still recovering, as most are after the battle with Sukuna. But for Megumi, the wounds are deeper, more insidious. After being imprisoned by Sukuna, after having his body and mind twisted and torn apart from the inside out, he’s struggling to find his footing again. His physical scars may heal with time, but the ones etched into his soul are a different story.

You approach slowly, hesitant to break the fragile stillness that surrounds him. He doesn’t turn to look at you, but you know he’s aware of your presence. You can see it in the way his shoulders tense, the slight shift of his head as if he’s listening, waiting. You move closer until you’re standing beside him, close enough to see the bandaged bruises that still darken his skin, the way his hands are clenched tightly in his lap, knuckles white with the effort of holding himself together.

“Megumi.” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, careful not to startle him.

He doesn’t respond at first, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance, his blue green eyes shadowed and hollow. You can’t tell if he’s looking at the ruins or something beyond them, something only he can see. You wait, giving him the time he needs, the space to decide whether he wants to speak or remain silent.

Finally, he lets out a breath, slow and heavy, his shoulders sagging further. “I couldn’t sleep.” he murmurs, so quietly you almost miss it. “I could still feel it. Like he’s still here… in my head… in my body. And then my dreams…. My hands and Gojo–sensei’s eyes….”

The words hang in the air, raw and unsteady, as if they barely have the strength to escape his lips. You hear the tremor in his voice, the way it quivers with each syllable. It’s a sound you haven’t heard from him before, a vulnerability that he rarely shows, and it cuts through you like a knife. Your heart aches at the sound of his voice, so broken and raw, a far cry from the stoic, determined young man you’ve known for so long.

You can see it in the way his eyes stare ahead, unfocused, as if he’s searching for something he can’t quite grasp. The way his hands tremble slightly, even though they’re clenched tightly on his knees. He sounds lost, like he’s still fighting a battle that has no end, still trying to claw his way out of a darkness that clings to him like a second skin. His whole body seems to sag under the weight of it, the invisible chains that bind him to a past he can’t escape.

“I see.” you whisper, your voice gentle, but firm. You reach out, hesitantly, resting your hand on his arm, feeling the tension that coils beneath his skin, the way his muscles are taut and ready to snap. “I’m sorry for that, Megumi.”

He flinches at your touch, just a little, his gaze flicking to yours for a brief second before darting away again. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he’s torn between wanting to believe you and the insidious doubt that’s been planted deep inside him. There’s a flicker of shame, of fear, as if he’s afraid of admitting just how much he’s struggling, how much of himself he feels he’s lost.

“It’s going to take some time for all of this to go and change.” he finally admits, his voice low, almost inaudible. “It feels like… like he’s still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, waiting for a chance to come back. And then Gojo–sensei’s voice echoes sometimes, whispering… and Sukuna just….It’s like he’s a part of me now, and I don’t know how to make him leave.”

His words are laced with a quiet desperation, a plea for some kind of reassurance that you’re not sure you can give. How do you tell someone that the ghost in their mind will eventually fade when you know that kind of pain never truly leaves? How do you promise a tomorrow free of shadows when the past clings so fiercely to the present?

You tighten your grip on his arm, just a little, enough to ground him, to let him know you’re here. “He won’t win. Satoru knew that too.” you say, your voice is firmer now, more certain. “Not while you’re still fighting. And I know you, Megumi. You’ve fought through worse. You’re stronger than you think, even when you feel like you’re falling apart.”

His eyes meet yours again, and you can see the doubt there, the fear. But beneath it, there’s a spark of something else, something fragile and faint, but alive — hope, maybe. A glimmer of belief that he can pull through this, that he can find himself again. His lips part, but he seems to hesitate, as if afraid of saying something he can’t take back.

“I’m tired.” he confesses, and it feels like the weight of the world is in those two words. “I’m so tired of fighting. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

You swallow hard, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes, but you blink them back. “I know." you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I know you are. And it’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to be tired, to need a break. But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, Megumi. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

He exhales, a shaky breath that trembles with all the emotions he’s been holding in, and for a moment, he looks like he might break, like the walls he’s built around himself might finally come crashing down. His shoulders slump further, and he leans forward, just a fraction, as if testing the waters, as if trying to decide if it’s safe to fall.

“I….” he starts, his voice breaking, “I keep thinking about him… and about everyone we lost. And I wonder if it’s even worth it, to keep going… if I’m even worth it. I…I helped cause all this pain.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. You tighten your grip on his arm, leaning closer, your heart breaking for him, for everything he’s endured, for everything he’s still enduring.

“Megumi.” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “You are worth it. You’re worth every fight, every tear, every moment of pain. You’re worth it because you’re here, and you’re trying, and you haven’t given up. And that… that’s everything.”

He looks at you, his eyes searching, as if trying to find the truth in your words, as if he wants to believe you but doesn’t know how. His lips tremble, and for a moment, he seems like he might speak, might say something that could change everything.

But then he just closes his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek, and he lets out a breath, long and shuddering. “I don’t know.” he whispers, but he doesn’t pull away from your touch. He stays there, his body tense but close, and you know that for now, that’s enough.

You feel the slight tremor in his shoulders, the way he fights to keep himself together, and you wonder how many times he’s had to do this — how many times he’s been forced to stand tall when everything inside him was falling apart. You can see the exhaustion etched in the lines of his face, the dark circles beneath his eyes. He’s so young, but he looks older now, like the weight of the world has been pressing down on him for too long.

You don’t say anything, just keep your hand on his arm, feeling the faint, steady beat of his pulse beneath your fingertips. You know that words won’t fix this, won’t make the shadows in his eyes disappear. But you want him to know he’s not alone, that he doesn’t have to carry this burden by himself.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans into you, just a little, his head bowing as if the strength he’s been holding onto is slipping away. You don’t move, don’t flinch, just let him take whatever he needs from you, let him find some solace in the contact, in the warmth of another human being who understands, who has lost as much as he has.

“I’m scared.” he admits, his voice so soft you almost miss it, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m scared that I’ll never be… me again. That I’ll never be whole. That I’ll always feel… like this.”

Your heart aches at the confession, at the way his voice breaks, the way his words tremble with an uncertainty that shakes you to your core. You feel a tear slip down your own cheek, and you quickly brush it away, not wanting him to see, not wanting to add to his pain.

“It’s okay to be scared.” you whisper back, your voice rough with emotion. “I’m scared too, Megumi. Every day. But you don’t have to do this alone. You have people who care about you, who love you. And we’ll get through this… somehow. Together.”

He nods, just barely, and you can feel the tiniest bit of tension ease from his frame, as if your words have given him something to hold onto, even if just for a moment. His tired eyes remain closed, and he takes another deep breath, his lips pressing into a thin line, his brows furrowing like he’s trying to muster some strength from within.

“I miss him.” he confesses, almost like he’s ashamed to say it out loud. “I miss Gojo–sensei. Tsumiki, I…I still can’t…”

Silence engulfs you, heavy and unrelenting, settling like a thick fog between you and Megumi. He opens his eyes. You couldn’t help but see the light of devastation in his eyes, a light that flickers and fades like a dying star. It’s a look you’ve seen before, a look you’ve felt etched into your own reflection every time you’ve caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The eyes that have stared back at you have been hollowed out, drained of their usual spark, carrying the same weight that now rests in Megumi’s.

You see it in the way he looks down, his gaze fixed on some invisible point on the ground, as if he’s afraid that meeting your eyes might shatter whatever fragile composure he’s managed to hold onto. The devastation is so clear in his expression, so raw and exposed, like an open wound that hasn’t begun to heal.

But you share the same look, you think. Because you’ve both lost the dearest people in your lives. The ones who held you together, who gave you strength when you needed it most. You knew that too well — the pain, the grief that seems to expand with every breath you take, filling the space around you, making it harder and harder to breathe. Tsumiki, taken from him so suddenly, so cruelly. And now Satoru, your husband, the man who was everything — your light, your laughter, your reason to keep fighting even when the world felt like it was falling apart.

How much more can you both bear?

It feels like there’s a weight pressing down on your chest, an invisible force squeezing the air out of your lungs. Your heart aches with a pain that’s deep and unyielding, a pain that you’ve grown accustomed to, but that never seems too dull. It’s the kind of pain that lingers, that finds its way into every corner of your being, that refuses to be ignored no matter how hard you try.

You think of Satoru — his smile, his ridiculous jokes, the way he could light up a room just by being in it. You think of Tsumiki — her quiet strength, her gentle kindness, the way she could make Megumi laugh even when he didn’t want to. You think of how much they meant to you, to both of you, and you wonder how you’re supposed to go on without them. How do you keep moving forward when the ground beneath you has been ripped away? How do you find the strength to keep fighting when the people who gave you that strength are gone?

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, hot and heavy, and you quickly brush it away. You don’t want Megumi to see, don’t want him to think that you’re breaking, that you’re crumbling under the weight of your own grief. But maybe he already knows. Maybe he can see it in the way your hands tremble, in the way your shoulders sag just a little, in the way your breath catches in your throat like you’re fighting to keep from sobbing.

Megumi finally looks up, and when his eyes meet yours, you see the reflection of your own sorrow staring back at you. His eyes are tired, so very tired, like he hasn’t slept in days, weeks even. There’s a hollowness in them, a void where there used to be determination and fire. He looks older than he is, worn down by the battles he fought, by the losses he’s endured. And you wonder how much more he can take, how much more you can ask of him when he’s already given so much.

“I’m… I’m not sure how to do this.” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper, his words trembling on the edge of breaking. “I don’t know how to… keep going.”

Your heart tightens, and you feel a fresh wave of grief wash over you, cold and sharp like a blade. You want to tell him that it will get easier, that the pain will fade, but you know it’s not true. You know that some losses never heal, that some wounds never close. All you can do is reach out and take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently, letting him know that you’re here, that you’re not going anywhere.

“I don’t know how either.” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “But we have to try… for them. For ourselves.”

He nods, but it’s a slow, uncertain nod, like he’s still not sure if he believes you, if he believes in anything anymore. His grip tightens around your hand, almost desperate, like he’s holding on for dear life. And maybe he is. Maybe you both are, trying to keep each other afloat in a sea of loss and uncertainty, trying to find something solid to cling to when everything else has been swept away.

For a long moment, you stand there in silence, feeling the weight of everything you’ve lost, everything you’re still losing. And you realize that there’s no easy answer, no simple path forward. There’s only this — the two of you, standing together in the midst of all the broken pieces, trying to make sense of a world that no longer feels whole. And maybe that’s enough. For now, maybe that’s enough.

"I… I keep thinking he’ll walk through that door too, you know?" you finally manage to say, your voice catching on the last word. "With that grin of his, like it's all been a bad dream."

Megumi’s gaze drops to the ground. “Me too.” he whispers. "I keep hearing his voice, like he's about to make another joke… or ruffle my hair." His hands curl into fists, and he swallows hard. "I don’t know if I want to laugh or scream."

You reach out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on his arm. "It feels wrong, doesn't it? For him to be gone."

He nods, his shoulders slumping further. "I hated how he made everything a joke, how he never took things seriously… but I’d give anything to hear him laugh again." His voice cracks, and you see the tears he's been holding back start to gather in his eyes.

Your own tears brim over, and you don’t bother wiping them away. "I don’t know what to do." you admit. "I feel lost without him. I thought we’d have more time… that we could…"

"To live together?" Megumi finishes for you, and you nod, grateful that he understands.

For a moment, you both stand there in your shared grief, the silence punctuated by the distant sounds of the wind moving through the ruins. Finally, Megumi reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, worn and slightly crumpled, as if it’s been handled many times. You look at him and then to the paper. You could feel the air knocked from your lungs. 

"He… he left this for you." he says, handing it over. “Ieiri–san gave this to me. He told Ieiri–san to give it to you.....if something happened, you’d be the one to need it most.”

You take the letter with trembling hands, the weight of it almost too much to bear. For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to open it, terrified of what it might say, of the finality it represents. But then you unfold it, the familiar scrawl of his handwriting dancing across the page, and his little drawing of himself on the side. You don’t know whether you were going to laugh or cry. Because, almost immediately, you can almost hear his voice speaking the words.

𝑯𝒆𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖! 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒚 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆,  

𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒚𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕’𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕, 𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒅. 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒕’𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕… 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘.  

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒓… 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖, 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊, 𝑻𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒌𝒊 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 — 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒚. 𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚?  

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊. 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑬𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓, 𝑰’𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕… 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚? 

𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊, 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔. 𝑷𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔, 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚? 𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚.   

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 — 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕,  𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖.

The tears spill over again, as they have these past few weeks and you clutch the letter to your chest, your heart aching with a mix of love and pain. You look over at Megumi, who’s watching you with a mix of understanding and his own quiet grief. He didn’t say a word for a while. He just let you cry, to let out the grief that you had been holding in for so long. 

"He… he always knew what to say, didn’t he?" Megumi murmurs, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah." you reply, your voice thick with tears. "He always did."

The weight of Satoru's absence presses heavily upon you, but the words on the paper offer a strange comfort, like a hand reaching out through the dark. You hold the letter tightly, almost as if you could draw him back with the force of your grip.

Megumi shifts beside you, his gaze distant. You sense he’s been wrestling with his own demons, carrying a grief he doesn’t quite know how to articulate. You remember the nights Satoru would tease him, ruffle his hair, and declare with exaggerated fondness that he was the son he never had. And you remember how Megumi would roll his eyes, always with that begrudging smile, the one that said he was secretly happy to have someone who cared so much.

"I don’t know what to do." you confess, your voice barely a whisper. "I don’t even know where to begin."

Megumi looks at you, his eyes softening in understanding. "Neither do I." he admits. "But… I think Gojo–sensei would want us to keep going. He’d hate seeing us like this, stuck in the past."

You nod, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "He was always moving forward, wasn’t he? Never stopping, not even for a second."

Megumi’s lips twitch into a faint smile. "Yeah, always dragging everyone else along for the ride." He hesitates, and then adds, "But… it wasn’t just him. You kept him grounded. You gave him a reason to slow down, even if just a little."

Your breath catches in your throat. You never thought of it that way — always felt like you were the one chasing after him, trying to keep up with his boundless energy and insatiable curiosity. But maybe, in your own way, you had been his anchor.

Megumi takes a step closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder, as if unsure whether to reach out. "He always talked about you, a lot. Even when you weren't around." he says softly. "Not in the way you'd expect. He’d get this look in his eyes, like… like he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have you."

You nod, finding some solace in his words. The two of you stand there for a moment longer, letting the silence settle around you, a cocoon of shared understanding. Then, with a deep breath, you fold Satoru’s letter carefully, as if it were the most fragile thing in the world, and tuck it into your pocket.

“I know.” you say gently, a faint smile on your lips. “I was the luckiest person alive too. To have loved him. To have been with him. To…To have a life with him.”

He turns his head slightly, just enough to glance at you out of the corner of his eye. There’s a flicker of something there — a mix of pain and doubt, hope and fear. He looks exhausted, like every breath, every moment, is a battle in itself. His hands unclench slowly, his fingers twitching like he doesn’t quite know what to do with them.

He closes his eyes for a moment, a pained expression crossing his face. “I don’t know if I can ever be what I was.” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

"That's okay." You whisper back. "You don't need to be whole to be yourself, Megumi. It's...enough. Being like this, for now."

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you see the tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to spill over. He’s still so young, you think, still so young to have been through so much, to carry so many burdens on his shoulders. You didn’t want this from him. You don’t want him to live with this for the rest of his life. 

“Do you think it’ll ever stop hurting?” he asks, his voice so soft it’s almost a plea.

You pause, considering your words carefully. “I don’t know.” you admit honestly. “I think… I think it might always hurt a little. But I also think that one day, the pain won’t be the first thing you feel. One day, you’ll wake up, and it’ll be a little easier to breathe. And then another day, and another… and eventually, you’ll find a way to live with it. To carry it without letting it crush you.”

He nods slowly, as if trying to absorb your words, to find some semblance of comfort in them. “I hope so.” he says quietly. “I really hope so.”

As you purse your lips into a tight line, Fushiguro Megumi turns his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the strain in his eyes. They’re the same eyes you’ve known for years, dark and brooding, yet now they seem dimmed by a weight too heavy for any young man to bear. His expression is weary, etched with the lines of battles fought not just against enemies but against the relentless tide of grief and responsibility that threatens to swallow him whole. 

You pause, taking in the sight of him. Megumi, who has always seemed so strong, so unyielding, now stands with his shoulders hunched, his frame pulled inward like a fragile fortress protecting a fragile heart. His hands, usually so sure and steady, are clenched tightly at his sides, fingers twitching with a nervous energy. 

The boy who faced curses without flinching now looks lost, as if he’s unsure of where to place his feet or how to hold himself together. You notice how his posture has shrunk into itself, his form smaller, more fragile than you remember. For a fleeting moment, he is not the stoic young man who bears the weight of the Zen’in name, but the boy you raised, the one who used to look up at you with a defiance softened by hope. 

Memories rush in, unbidden and raw. You remember the first time you took his hand, how tiny it seemed in yours, and the way he stiffened, wary of your touch. It took time for him to trust you, to accept the safety you offered in a world that had been anything but kind. He was so guarded, so determined to prove that he didn’t need anyone, but you had seen through the cracks in his armor, glimpsed the boy beneath who craved comfort and understanding.

Now, as you stand before him, you see that boy again. The boy who hid his hurt behind curt words and narrowed eyes, who watched the world with suspicion, waiting for it to turn on him. You see the boy who wanted to be strong, not just for himself but for those he cared about, who believed that if he could shoulder enough pain, he might somehow spare others from it. That same boy stands before you now, but the weight he carries has only grown heavier, pressing down on his shoulders until they sag with exhaustion.

You move closer, slowly, careful not to startle him. Megumi’s gaze flickers to you, and for a moment, something in his eyes softens, just a fraction. He looks at you as if he wants to say something, but the words catch in his throat, stuck behind the fear of vulnerability. You can see the battle waging within him — the need to be strong, to keep it all together, and the desperate longing to let someone in, to share the burden that’s breaking him apart.

“I…I’m sorry for putting you through what I did.” he whispers, so quietly you almost miss it. His voice is thick, strained with the weight of everything left unsaid.

It was hard seeing Megumi this way, you think. If anything, you still weren’t prepared to seek him out. You felt ashamed that you couldn’t do much for him. As much as you were also worried that he’d put himself at your feet, kneeling and in tears. Now your worst fear came to pass, that he would be apologizing to you for something that was not his fault. And so, you took that time — a long time, to just be alone and grieve. To let your husband’s soul rest in peace.

So your heart aches at his confession, and you step closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, drawing him into an embrace. At first, he resists, his body stiff and unyielding, but you hold firm, refusing to let go. Slowly, he relents, and he collapses against you, his head resting against your shoulder. His hands clutch at the fabric of your clothes, and you feel the tremble in his fingers, the suppressed sobs caught in his chest.

“It’s okay, Megumi.” you murmur, stroking his back in soothing circles. “You silly boy. Why are you apologizing for things that aren’t your fault, hm?”

His shoulders shake, and you feel the tears that he’s fought so hard to hold back finally spill over. He buries his face in your shoulder, his body wracked with silent sobs, each one tearing at your heart. You hold him tighter, as if you could somehow shield him from the pain, as if you could gather all the shattered pieces of him and put them back together.

He cries quietly, like he doesn’t want to be heard, like he’s afraid of what his grief might sound like if he lets it out. You just hold him, letting him take the time he needs, giving him the space to be the child you know he still is, beneath all that strength and stubbornness. 

And for that moment, you are back in time, comforting a boy who tried so hard to be brave, to stand tall in a world that felt too big and too cruel. You feel the years slip away, and you whisper to him like you did then, telling him it’s okay, that he’s safe, that he’s loved. 

Slowly, the tremors in his body begin to ease, and he pulls back slightly, just enough to look up at you. His eyes are red, and there’s a vulnerability there that you haven’t seen in years. “I’m sorry, Gen–san.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “I….It must be harder on you.”

You shake your head, cupping his cheek with one hand. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” you say firmly. “You’ve been so strong, Megumi. But you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

He nods, his eyes closing for a moment as he takes a shaky breath. “I just… I miss him, Gen–san.” he admits, his voice breaking. “I miss them. Tsumiki…..I…I miss them both. And it’s…It’s my fault. If I had…”

“I know you do.” you whisper back. “I miss them too. And it’s okay to feel that way. But it was never your fault. You understand? This is not your cross to bear, hm?”

He looked at you, as though he was still unsure. But he nods again, and this time, when he opens his eyes, there’s a spark of something new there, a flicker of resolve. “Thank you.” he murmurs. “For… for being here.”

You smile softly, brushing his hair back from his face. “Always.” you promise. “I’ll always be here for you, Megumi.”

And as he leans into your touch, you realize that maybe, just maybe, he’s beginning to understand that he doesn’t have to face the world alone. That he has a family, even in the darkest of times, and that you’ll always be there to catch him when he falls. When he finally calms down, you look at him with a tender gaze. You rub the small of his back and coo towards him. You tell him over and over again that it’s going to be okay. 

THINGS HAVE CHANGED IN THESE MANY YEARS. But all the same, you were still just trying to get by without your husband. Just as you have done in the past fourteen years. Sometimes you can’t believe that it has been that long. Fourteen long years without his voice, his laughter, his warmth beside you in the dark of the night. Fourteen years of waking up every morning and remembering all over again that he’s gone.

Some days, it feels like he was just here, like you can still hear his footsteps in the hallway, the sound of his voice calling your name, teasing you with that easy smile that could always make your heart skip a beat. Other days, it feels like a lifetime has passed, like his memory is slipping further away with each breath you take, each step you take forward.

And sometimes, all you have to do is look at the world around you and see how much it has changed, even without Satoru. The world didn’t stop for his absence — it kept moving, kept spinning, kept evolving. The streets are filled with new faces, new buildings rise where old ones once stood. The skyline of the city looks different, the energy of the people has shifted, and even the quiet corners where you used to find solace now feel foreign and unfamiliar.

You think about the way he would have laughed at the way the world has moved on without him, how he would have been amused at the thought of being left behind by time itself. “Can’t keep up with me, huh?” he would’ve jokes, that mischievous grin spreading across his face, his bright eyes twinkling with that endless, boundless spirit of his.

But he isn’t here to see it — he isn’t here to laugh or joke or comment on the little changes that make up this new reality. And that’s what hurts the most, you think. The small moments that go unnoticed, the daily routines that feel emptier without him, the tiny, insignificant details that made life with him so full.

You were certain that today was one of those days — a day where the past and present seemed to blur, where the weight of what came before felt particularly heavy. The morning sun filters through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow across the table. You watch as the young clan leader, Gojo Satoshi, sits across from you, his posture a mix of youthful excitement and a hint of nervousness that he tries to hide. His eighteenth birthday has finally arrived — a day you’ve both been anticipating with a blend of joy and bittersweetness. 

For years, you’ve marked this date on the calendar, circled it with a smiley face as Satoru used to do. You remember the way he’d talk about this day like it was a grand milestone, his eyes lighting up with that familiar spark as he imagined all the things Satoshi would accomplish. And now, here it is — the day that seemed so far away, so impossible to reach, yet somehow arrived faster than you ever thought it would.

Your son had taken some time off from his responsibilities, from the pressures of the Gojo clan, just to be here with you. He’d insisted on it, saying he didn’t want to spend this day anywhere else. There’s a maturity in him that catches you off guard sometimes, a quiet strength that reminds you so much of Satoru, and yet he’s entirely his own person, shaped by all the experiences and lessons that life has thrown at him. 

At times, you catch yourself taking a moment to look at him. He was the spitting image of his father. Every bit of him was Satoru. From the way his eyes gazed at you, to the way he laughs. Everything was him. You think if your husband would be here now, it would have been hard to tell them apart. But, he was all you have of Satoru. And you were still grateful for it, even if it makes you cry sometimes.

“Mom.” he begins, and there’s a softness in his voice, a vulnerability that he doesn’t show often. “I… I’m glad I could be here today. I know it’s… a lot. For both of us.”

You smile, a warm, gentle smile that you hope hides the ache in your chest. “I’m glad too, Satoshi. I’ve been waiting for this day. Your father would have wanted it to be special.”

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes — a shadow of the loss you both carry, the empty space that Satoru left behind. You know this day is as much about celebrating as it is about remembering, about honoring the promise that Satoru made to him, to all of you.

And that’s why you’re here, sitting at the kitchen table, a letter in your hand — a letter you’ve kept safe for years, one with Satoru’s handwriting on the envelope, his familiar scrawl that brings a sting of tears to your eyes. The letter he wrote for Satoshi to open on his eighteenth birthday, a letter he wrote knowing he might not be here to read it himself.

You hold it out to him, your fingers trembling slightly, and Satoshi’s eyes widen. He recognizes it immediately, having seen it once before when he was a child, when you tucked it away with a promise that it was for another day, a day when he was older, stronger.

“Is this…?” he asks, his voice trailing off, almost afraid to finish the question.

You nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “It’s from your father.” you say softly. “Megumi found it cleaning your father's office. It seems....your father wanted you to have something special when you're older."

For a moment, Satoshi just stares at the envelope, his fingers brushing over the edges, tracing the curve of his father’s handwriting. You can see the emotions flicker across his face — curiosity, sadness, a deep, yearning love. He looks up at you, and there’s a silent question in his eyes, one that asks if you’re okay, if you’re ready for this.

You give him a small nod, even though your heart feels like it might break all over again. “Go on.” you encourage. “Open it.”

With a deep breath, Satoshi carefully tears open the envelope, his hands steady despite the tremor you know he must feel. He pulls out the folded paper inside, and as he begins to read, you watch his face, the way his expression changes, softens, as he takes in the words that his father left for him.

There’s a chuckle, soft and low, that escapes his lips, and for a brief moment, it’s like Gojo Satoru is in the room with you both, his presence lingering in the air, his laughter echoing in the corners. Satoshi’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, and he shakes his head, murmuring, “Of course he’d say that…” under his breath.

You can’t help but smile, a tear slipping down your cheek as you remember Satoru’s sense of humor, his way of making light of even the heaviest moments. You wonder what he wrote, what silly remark he must have made, what words he left behind to make his son laugh on this day.

But then, the laughter fades, replaced by a softer look, a look of longing. Satoshi’s eyes grow misty, and his smile wavers, his breath hitching in his throat. His hands clutch the letter a little tighter, his fingers pressing into the paper like he’s holding onto a lifeline.

“I miss him, a lot.” he whispers, his voice breaking, and in that moment, he looks like the little boy he used to be, the one who would climb into your lap and ask when his father was coming home. “I miss him so much.”

Your heart breaks all over again, and you reach across the table, pulling him into your arms. He doesn’t resist, burying his face in your shoulder, and you feel his tears soak through your shirt, hot and heavy. You hold him close, your hand running through his hair, whispering soothing words even as your own tears fall.

“I know, Satoshi.” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “I miss him too… every day.”

He clings to you, his body shaking with quiet sobs, and you let him cry, let him mourn, let him feel all the things he needs to feel. You know that this pain will never truly go away, that there will always be a part of both of you that aches for the man who isn’t here, for the father and husband who left too soon.

But in this moment, you also feel a deep, abiding love — a love that stretches across time and space, that binds you together even in the face of loss. You know that Satoru is with you, in every laugh, in every tear, in every beat of your hearts. And as you hold your son, feeling the strength of his embrace, the warmth of his love, you know that Satoru’s spirit lives on, in him, in you, in all the days to come.

You feel Satoshi’s grip tighten around you, his shoulders still trembling with the force of his emotions. You hold him closer, pressing your cheek against the top of his head, breathing in the scent of him, so familiar and comforting. He’s grown so much, become a young man with so much of his father’s spirit, and yet so much of his own unique strength.

“He would’ve been so proud of you, little dawn.” you whisper into his hair, feeling your voice catch in your throat. “Every day, he would’ve been so proud. I know he is… wherever he is.”

Satoshi pulls back just enough to look up at you, his eyes red-rimmed and wet with tears, but there’s a light in them — a spark of resilience, of determination, of love. “I hope so, mom.” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I hope I’m making him proud… and you, too.”

You smile, cupping his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his damp cheeks. “You are, Satoshi. You’re everything he could have hoped for… everything I could have hoped for.”

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and you can see the way his expression softens, some of the tension easing from his features. “I just… I wish he were here,” he admits, his voice a broken whisper. “I wish he could see this… see me now.”

You nod, swallowing back your own tears, feeling the ache in your chest grow sharper, deeper. “Me too.” you confess. “Every day, I wish for that. But he’s still with us, Satoshi. In you, in me, in all the love he left behind. And as long as we remember him, he’ll never truly be gone.”

Satoshi nods slowly, taking in your words, letting them settle in the quiet space between you. You know it’s not enough to fill the emptiness, to ease the pain that sits heavy in both of your hearts, but it’s something — a small comfort, a small truth that you can hold on to.

“Happy birthday, Satoshi.” You greeted him with a small smile on your face. “You and your papa. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, mom.”

And so, you sit together in the soft morning light, holding onto each other, holding onto the memory of the man you both loved so dearly, trying to find your way in a world that has changed so much without him. You know it won’t be easy — it never has been — but you also know that you have each other, that you have the love he left behind, and maybe, for now, that’s enough to keep moving forward.

Just as you have for the past fourteen years.

Just as you will for the years to come.

YOU DECIDED TO VISIT THAT AFTERNOON. The pond is quiet, save for the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, the soft murmurs of the water lapping against its edges. You stand at the edge, looking out at the calm surface, watching as the light dances across the ripples. The air is thick with the scent of earth and pine, and there’s a serenity here that you haven’t felt in a long time — a stillness that settles into your bones, grounding you in the moment.

This was land that Satoru bought a long time ago, back when the world was still full of possibility, when dreams felt tangible and within reach. You remember the day he brought you here for the first time, the way his eyes sparkled with excitement as he talked about the future, about all the things he wanted to build, all the memories he hoped to create. 

He’d stood right where you’re standing now, his hands on his hips, looking out at the same pond with a boyish grin on his face. “This is it.” he’d said, his voice full of conviction. “This is where I’d be glad to build a family… a place to call home when everything’s said and done.”

You could hear the hope in his words, the unspoken promise of a life filled with love and laughter. He had dreams of children playing by the water’s edge, of long summer evenings spent under the stars, of a sanctuary away from the battles, away from the chaos.

And you had made that happen. For a while, you had built that family, that life, just as he’d wanted. You shared quiet mornings and loud, joyous evenings. You laughed, you loved, you lived. The memories still linger in every corner of this place, like echoes of a time that now feels so distant, so far away.

This is the place where you buried your husband — here, by the pond where he once stood dreaming of the future. It felt right, felt like honoring that dream of his, of giving him the home he’d always wanted, even in death. You wanted him to be where he’d always hoped to be, to rest in the place he had chosen for his family, his sanctuary. So you laid him to rest here, in the earth he once walked upon, beneath the trees that whisper his name in the wind. 

But you chose this spot for a reason. So that he’ll always be home, so that he’ll never be far from the place he loved most. You wanted him to have peace, to feel the tranquility of the land he cherished so much. And maybe, in some way, you wanted him close, wanted to be able to visit, to sit by his side and feel his presence, even if it’s just in the whispers of the wind or the quiet ripple of the pond.

You sit back, closing your eyes, breathing in the fresh air, and you imagine his laughter, his voice, his hand in yours. You can almost hear him now, teasing you about being sentimental, about spending so much time talking to a patch of earth. But you know he’d understand. He always understood you, even when you didn’t understand yourself.

You look out over the pond, the way the water reflects the sky, and you wonder what he would think of the world now, of all the things that have changed. You wonder if he’d still choose this place, if he’d still find it as beautiful as he once did. You like to think he would, that he’d still smile and say, “Yeah, this is home.”

One day, you think. One day, maybe you’ll be here too, resting beside him, sharing this place forever. Maybe one day, you’ll find your way back to him, and you’ll get to hear his voice again, feel his arms around you, and you’ll be whole again. Until then, you’ll keep coming back, keep whispering to the wind, keep holding onto the memories that this place holds.

And as the sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the water, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. Because here, in this quiet place, he is still with you. Here, by the pond he loved so much, he is still home.

You’ve walked this path more times than you can count, but today feels different. The air is heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken words and memories that cling to you like shadows. It has been fourteen years now, and in a few days, it will be official. But it was your husband’s birthday today too, and you think that maybe that’s why. Satoshi is eighteen and your husband isn’t here to see it. 

When you reach their graves, you pause, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The air is cool, the wind gentle against your skin, but there is a weight in your chest that feels heavier than any burden you’ve ever carried. 

Two simple stones lie before you, side by side, as if they were always meant to be together — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. Their names etched in the granite are stark against the soft earth, the bold characters cutting through the silence of the space around you. The sight is almost too real, too final, as if the reality of their absence is etched into the stone itself.

It was what Satoru wanted, you remember. He had told you that a long time ago, in a quiet moment, his voice uncharacteristically soft, almost pleading. “Promise me, if anything ever happens… that Suguru will be laid to rest too. That he’ll have peace.”

You’d nodded then, not thinking much of it, not wanting to entertain the thought of losing him. But now, standing here, you understand why. You understand why it mattered to him, why it was so important that they be reunited in the end.

They were best friends once — closer than brothers, bound by a shared past, by dreams of changing the world together. Even when their paths diverged, even when they became enemies in the eyes of the world, there was always something unbreakable between them, something that tied them together beyond the choices they made, beyond the mistakes and the betrayals. They were always two halves of a whole, two sides of a coin that could never be separated.

And now, in death, they are together again. You think it fitting, think it poetic in a way that only Satoru could have imagined. They both found their peace here, in this quiet place, far from the chaos and conflict that shaped their lives. And maybe, just maybe, they have found each other again, wherever they are.

You kneel down, your knees pressing into the soft grass, feeling the dampness seep through your clothes, grounding you, connecting you to the earth, to this place where they both now rest. You reach out with trembling fingers, tracing the characters of their names etched into the cold granite. The letters feel rough under your fingertips, each line a reminder of what was lost, of the lives that were lived with so much intensity, so much passion, so much pain.

“Satoru.” you whisper, your voice catching in your throat. It feels strange to say his name out loud, to speak to him as if he could still hear you. But you hope he can. You hope he’s listening, somewhere out there. “I’m back, my dearest.”

“I miss you… so much. Every day. I don’t know how to do this without you.” Your fingers move to Suguru’s name next, tracing the familiar curves and lines, remembering the way Satoru used to talk about him, the fondness in his voice even after everything that happened.

“And Suguru.” you add softly, “I hope you found peace too. I hope… wherever you are, you’ve found each other again. That you’re not alone. Stay together, hm?”

The wind picks up, rustling the leaves around you, and for a moment, you almost think you hear their voices — Satoru’s light and teasing, Suguru’s deeper, quieter, both of them laughing together like they did in the old days, when things were simpler, when the world hadn’t yet shown its darker side. It’s a sound that cuts through the quiet, a memory that tugs at your heart, bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

You press your palms flat against the grass, feeling the cool earth beneath your hands, grounding yourself in the present, in the reality of this moment. You close your eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, feeling the ache in your chest grow sharper, deeper. 

“I’m sorry.” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you… either of you. I’m sorry it came to this.”

But then you take a breath, slow and steady, and you remember what Satoru always said — that life goes on, that the world keeps turning, even when it feels like it’s falling apart. And you know he wouldn’t want you to stay here forever, trapped in the past, in the grief that feels like it might swallow you whole. He would want you to keep going, to keep living, to find joy again, even if it feels impossible right now.

You sit back on your heels, wiping at your eyes, feeling the cool breeze brush against your cheeks. “I’ll keep going.” you promise, your voice is stronger now, more certain. “I’ll keep living, for both of you. For all of us. But… one day, I hope I get to see you again. I hope we can be together again, somehow.”

The wind blows softly, carrying your words away, and you imagine them reaching Satoru, reaching Suguru, wherever they are. You imagine them smiling, together at last, watching over you, waiting for the day when you’ll be reunited. And in that thought, you find a small measure of comfort, a small piece of hope to hold on to.

So you stay a little longer, just sitting there in the quiet, in the space between what was and what is, letting the memories wash over you, letting yourself feel everything — the love, the loss, the longing. Because here, in this place, they are still with you. Here, by their graves, you are not alone.

You swallow, trying to keep your composure, but it’s hard. The memories rush back all at once — the sound of Satoru’s laughter, always so full and carefree; Suguru’s quiet, thoughtful gaze as he watches you both, always the more grounded of the two. You close your eyes for a moment, letting those memories wash over you, trying to hold on to the feeling of them, even as it brings a fresh ache to your heart.

“I miss you.” you say, your voice breaking on the last word. “Gods, I miss you both so much.”

Your hand drops to your lap, and you feel the sting of tears in your eyes, blurring your vision. You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. The tears spill over, hot against your skin, and you don’t bother to wipe them away. You’re tired of pretending to be strong, tired of holding back the grief that’s been eating away at you ever since you lost them.

“I still can’t believe you’re gone, Satoru.” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I keep thinking… I keep waiting for you to walk through the door with that ridiculous grin on your face, like this was all just some terrible joke. I keep thinking I’ll hear your voice, calling out to me, asking me if I’ve missed you. Fourteen years and I still think like this.”

Your shoulders shake with a quiet sob, and you press a hand to your mouth, trying to stifle the sound. You feel the ache in your chest, the hollow emptiness that’s been there since the day he died. Every day without him feels like a wound that won’t heal, a pain that won’t lessen, no matter how much time passes.

“I miss you so much.” you repeat, your voice raw and broken. “I miss the way you used to make me laugh, even when I didn’t want to. I miss the way you’d wrap your arms around me, like you could protect me from everything. I miss your voice, your smile… I miss everything.”

You take a deep breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes as if to ground yourself. “Sometimes… sometimes I don’t know how to keep going.” you admit quietly. “I don’t know how to keep living in a world where you’re not here.”

Your gaze drifts to Suguru’s grave, and you feel another pang of sorrow. “I miss you too, Suguru.” you murmur. “I know you and Satoru are probably driving each other crazy up there… but I wish… I wish you were both here with me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your tears falling more freely now. “I’m trying to be strong, to be the person you both believed I could be.” you say, your voice trembling. “But it’s so hard without you. It’s so hard to keep going when all I want to do is just… just give up.”

You close your eyes, bowing your head, and let the tears fall, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The grief feels like it’s drowning you, pulling you under, and for a moment, you don’t know if you have the strength to keep swimming.

But then, through the haze of your tears, you feel a small flicker of warmth — a memory, a feeling, a sense of Satoru’s presence. You can almost hear his voice, playful and light, telling you to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep living. And you know, deep down, that he wouldn’t want you to give up. He’d want you to keep smiling, to keep finding joy, even in a world without him.

You lift your head, wiping at your tears with the back of your hand. “I promise I’ll keep going.” you whisper. “I’ll keep living, for both of you. But… one day…”

Your voice catches, and you swallow hard, forcing the words out past the lump in your throat. “One day, I can’t wait to see you again.” you say, your voice breaking on a sob. “I can’t wait to be with you again, Satoru. I can’t wait to hold you and tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his headstone, your fingers trembling. “Until then… I’ll keep you in my heart.” you whisper. “I’ll keep you both in my heart.”

The wind picks up once more, rustling the leaves, and for a moment, you feel a strange sense of peace, as if they’re both there with you, watching over you, telling you that it’s okay to grieve, to cry, to miss them. And as you sit there, letting the tears flow, you realize that they’re not really gone. They’re still with you, in every memory, every laugh, every tear. 

“I love you so much.” you whisper, your voice carried away in the wind. “I always will, my love. Happy birthday.”

And for the first time in a long time, you feel a flicker of hope, a small, fragile thing, but there nonetheless. A hope that one day, you’ll see them again, that one day, this ache will be replaced by the joy of being with them once more. Until then, you’ll carry them with you, every step of the way, until your paths cross again.

epilogue 

In the ethereal expanse of the afterlife, Gojo Satoru was causing a celestial commotion that even the most seasoned spirits couldn’t ignore. The gates of heaven, grand and imposing, were currently the scene of an unusual spectacle. Satoru was, quite literally, throwing himself against them, trying to push his way through the ornate barriers with a determination that bordered on absurd.

Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, and Haibara Yuta were standing a few feet away, watching with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Suguru was leaning against a nearby pillar, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. Nanami was rubbing his temples in frustration, and Haibara was trying very hard not to laugh.

"How long has he been at this?" Nanami asked.

"Since yesterday." Haibara snickered in response.

"I haven't had peace these past two days." Suguru sighed.

Satoru, his face pressed against the gates, was shouting, “GAH!? Let me out! I need to get back to Earth! They need me! I can’t just sit here while they’re struggling!”

Nanami, stepping forward with a calm yet firm tone, said, “Satoru, this is not a joke. You’re dead. You’re not supposed to go back. We’ve been over this.”

Satoru turned his head, giving them a pleading look. “But they’re my family! They need me! Can’t you see? I’ve got to be there for them!”

Haibara, trying to defuse the tension, added with a smirk, “Gojo–senpai, you know you can’t just break the rules. Besides, you have to admit, your dramatic exit would probably cause a cosmic mess.”

Suguru, barely containing his grin, stepped forward with a more practical suggestion. “Look, Satoru, there’s a much better way to be there for them without causing a ruckus. You can appear in their dreams. It’s a lot less disruptive and doesn’t require you to break through any divine gates.”

Satoru’s eyes lit up with realization. “Wait, really? I do that? Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

Suguru shrugged nonchalantly. “You didn’t want to listen to me at all. Plus, you were too busy trying to create a celestial catastrophe.”

Satoru paused, considering the idea. “I suppose appearing in their dreams is a bit more civilized. But—” he added, frowning, “—can’t I just pop back in for a quick hug or something? A kiss, more preferably.”

Nanami shook his head, still trying to keep his composure. “No, Gojo. That’s not how it works. You’ve got to accept that you can't do what you want now that you're dead.”

Satoru, with a resigned sigh and the roll of his eyes, finally stepped back from the gates. He still looks like a child when he pouts. “Alright, alright. I’ll do the dream thing. But I want to make sure they know I’m there for them.”

Haibara chuckled. “Great. Just try not to turn their dreams into a circus act. They need comfort, not more chaos, Gojo–senpai!”

Satoru grinned, his spirits lifting as he envisioned his new plan. “Got it. I’ll keep it heartfelt and fun. And maybe I’ll sneak in a few tricks here and there. You know, just to keep things interesting.”

As Satoru prepared to set off on his new celestial mission, Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara exchanged looks of weary amusement. They knew that, despite his antics, Satoru’s heart was in the right place.

“Good luck,” Nanami said dryly. “And remember, no cosmic disasters.”

Satoru gave them a thumbs-up. “You got it! And thanks for the advice, everyone. I’ll make sure they feel my love, even if it’s just in their dreams.”

With that, Satoru faded into a swirl of ethereal light, heading toward the dreamscape to reach out to you and Satoshi. Meanwhile, Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara watched him go, their expressions a mix of relief and amusement.

“Do you think he’ll actually follow through?” Haibara asked, still grinning.

Suguru smirked. “If anyone can turn a dream into a grand spectacle, it’s Satoru. But I have no doubt he’ll manage to bring some comfort, too. Well, somewhat."

Nanami sighed, shaking his head. “Well, at least we’ve managed to keep him out of trouble, for now. Let’s hope he sticks to the plan.”

And with that, the trio returned to their celestial duties, knowing that despite Satoru’s chaotic tendencies, his heart was always in the right place.

And just as promised, Gojo Satoru did indeed make his grand reappearance in your dreams and Satoshi's, weaving a spectral thread through the fabric of your nightly slumbers. The dreams, much like Satoru himself, were a mix of whimsical chaos and heartwarming moments.

In your dream, the scene was set in a familiar place — a cozy, moonlit garden that felt both nostalgic and surreal. There, amidst the soft glow of fairy lights and the gentle rustling of leaves, was Satoru, his usual nonchalant demeanor softened by a warm, affectionate grin. He was seated on a bench, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with the same mischievous gleam you remembered so well.

"Soooo." he began, stretching out the word as if he were about to launch into one of his signature lectures. "Miss me much? I bet you didn't expect me to show up like this."

You could only laugh, feeling a mixture of relief and joy. "Satoru... this is incredible. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come."

Satoru’s grin widened, and he leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. "You know me, always keeping my promises, even from beyond. Besides, I couldn’t let you and Satoshi have all the fun without me."

He gestured to the garden around you, which seemed to glow with a gentle, ethereal light, transforming it into a place of comfort and tranquility. It was as if he had crafted this dreamscape himself, blending his penchant for the whimsical with the tenderness of his love.

As you sat together, talking and laughing, the conversation flowed effortlessly. He shared stories from the afterlife, which he portrayed with his characteristic humor and flair, recounting celestial mishaps and the amusing antics of his fellow spirits. It was just like old times, but with a surreal twist — his jokes seemed to float in the air like bubbles, and his laughter was a melody that danced through the night. And then when it was time, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into an embrace and a kiss.

Satoshi’s dream was equally enchanting. He found himself in a fantastical setting, a blend of his own memories and Satoru's imaginative touch. The scene was a vibrant carnival, full of colors and laughter. Satoru was there, dressed in an elaborate magician’s costume, complete with a top hat and a flowing cape. He was performing tricks, pulling stars out of a hat and making cosmic confetti rain down on the crowd.

Satoshi watched in awe as Satoru performed, a look of wonder on his face. When Satoru finally noticed him, he winked and gave him a grandiose bow. "Hey, kiddo! Did you miss me? Hope you're enjoying the show!"

Satoshi’s heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of joy and longing. He approached Satoru, who enveloped him in a hug that felt strangely warm despite being a dream. Satoshi felt tears well up in his eyes, but he laughed, feeling a sense of comfort he hadn’t experienced in years. “I’ve missed you so much, Dad.”

Satoru ruffled his hair affectionately, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “I know, kiddo. I’ve missed you too. But you’ve grown so much. I’m proud of you. And I know your mom is too. You both are doing great.”

The dream continued with a playful sense of magic and wonder, filled with laughter and joy. Satoru’s presence, though fleeting, was a gift — a reminder that his love and spirit continued to be a part of your lives, even if only in the realm of dreams.

As the night drew to a close and the dreams began to fade, Satoru gave one last, heartfelt wave. “Remember, I’m always with you. In every laugh, every moment, and every starry night. I’ll be cheering you on from here.”

When you and Satoshi woke up, you immediately texted each other about the dream. And back in heaven, Gojo Satoru was pleased.

[sanipoyo]

WHEN THEIR DAUGHTER IS SINGING HORRIBLY

note - jujutsu kaisen, fluff, reader has a kid.

you and GOJO decided to take your daughter out for a little roadtrip. gojo had control of the aux and decided to play bad romance by lady gaga. your daughter was singing along and when the high note came up she basically shattered the windows of the car. satoru gritted his teeth at the sound of his little angel sounding like she was a cursed spirit being exorcised by a sorcerer. gojo didn’t want to break his daughter's heart by silencing her performance so instead he tried to sing over her with his own terrible singing leaving you to suffer, listening to what sounds like two cats fighting each other.

you and NANAMI’s daughter had been singing all day. you assumed it was because you both had taken her to go see the newest trolls movie the night before and she absolutely loved it. when it came time for her to take a bath nanami took her upstairs prepared her bath for her since you were cooking that night. as he filled the bathtub with warm water and bubbles she stood behind him swaying and singing. “okay, you can get in.” nanami said, giving his daughter a soft smile as he left the bathroom. once he shut the door, he heard his daughter start singing the song she heard from the movie, but loudly and out of tune. her singing soon became screeching and you couldn’t help but laugh. kento knew seeing those lively trolls singing and dancing was going to be a bad idea.

MEGUMI was cleaning up the living room from your daughters mess. he knew you’d be stressed once you returned home from work and he wanted you to come home to a nice, neat environment. once your daughter saw that her dad was cleaning she begin singing the ‘clean-up’ song. megumi stopped in his tracks when he heard a long drawn out shout come from his daughter. “hey, hey, what’s the matter?”, fushiguro questioned, picking her up and holding her tight against his side. “i was singing!” she exclaimed, causing megumi’s face to comically go pale. that was singing? he placed her back down onto the couch and smiled softly as he began cleaning again. “why don’t you try singing with your inside voice?”

you absolutely love to buy annoying toys for you and SUKUNA’s daughter. this time, you brought her a little toy karaoke machine with a microphone that actually worked. once your daughter turned on the microphone she immediately started singing (screaming) some song she learned off of one of the shows she watched. sukuna glared at you the moment she began yelling into the microphone. you had slipped away to make dinner and he observed the karaoke machine finding a volume button, with that, he turned the volume all the way down. “hey! why’d you do that?!” your daughter protests and your husband just sinks into the couch, placing his hands behind his head. “let’s play the quiet game. the winner gets two snacks for dessert.”

Ⓒ all published work belongs to sanipoyo! do not copy/plagiarize.

[takumifujiwarastan]

"look at me, not him."

pairings: megumi fushiguro x best friend!reader contents: jealousy, sprinkle of angst, a bit suggestive, reader has a bit of traumatic past but not too many details. no established relationship (yet)!

594 words

a/n: very self indulgent bc i js wanted to write for mah boi megumi <3

he couldn't hate yuji.

he couldn't hate the fact that he was stealing your attention away from him more and more with each passing day.

that the small smiles only he could see were now becoming regular when you were around the pink haired boy.

of course, he's more than happy that you're smiling. the shell that had been enclosing you for so long was finally starting to break in the company of safe people who cared about you.

he just wished it was him who made you smile like that.

since when did he start wishing that? he couldn't remember. he couldn't count the days he's spent thinking about you. the nights he spent dreaming about you. you somehow slithered your way into his mind along with every thought that whizzed by.

it used to be just you and him. being unofficially 'adopted' by gojo a few years after he was, you'd come to know him most your whole life. he knew everything about you. he knew the background you came from. the pain you suffered. every hit you took. every time you got back up and kept going.

he missed the days of just him and you. lazy afternoons in each others' dorm rooms, spent basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through the window and talking about whatever. sleepless rainy nights that ended with you in his arms, your breathing in sync with his as the rain pattered against the glass of the window.

and the rare smiles he got to see from you whenever you were with him. him. not yuji.

and its yuji you're waiting for now, as you stand patiently at the end of the hallway, where he said he would meet you after showering and changing after training.

megumi's sharp eyes narrow at the sight of you waiting for someone other than him yet again. without even a second thought he starts padding down the wood floor of the dorm hall.

"y/n." he breathes out, stopping just a few feet from you. you look up at him, meeting his eyes that seem to carry unfamiliar emotion behind them.

"hey..." you reply softly. "you alright?" the question falls from your lips so innocently, in such a clueless matter he can't be upset that you aren't spending time with him. his eyes soften at this, then closing them with a sigh.

his fists then ball up at his sides upon hearing yuji's voice at the other end of the hall. he turns his head and shoots him a menacing look, to which the peach haired boy with widened eyes retreated back to his dorm.

you turn your head and watch as yuji goes back into his room, shutting the door hastily. "megumi, me and yuji were going to-" your irritated tone is cut off when a hand is brought up to your face, tilting your head back towards the raven haired boy as he crashes his lips into yours, a small gasp escaping your lips when your back hits the wall. his free hand is seated on your waist, gripping feverishly as he deepens the kiss.

he pulls back a few moments after, looking into your eyes with a fiery anger yet desperate longing at the same time. his hand holds your face so softly, tenderly, contrary to the emotions brewing inside him. his thumb brushing over your cheekbone so delicately, as if you were fragile as glass. you can almost hear the yearning in his voice when he breathes out;

"look at me, not him."

do u want a part 2?

[b4nka1]

my favorite animated men and random things they do when jealous and want to grab your attention!

warnings: suggestive content (mentions of smut), misogyny, toji being nice, jjk manga spoilers. not proofread.

— FUSHIGURO TOJI : he would pout as you were busy with your office work. sure, you did love him, but your work was your priority for now. he would slowly walk into your room, standing behind you as you worked. he'd start massaging your shoulders, and within seconds, your eyes closed and body relaxed. "mmh, just right, baby..." you whispered to toji, you was still carefully and gently massaging your shoulders.

"if you gave me a tad bit more attention, i'd make you feel far far better, princess..."

— RYOMEN SUKUNA : he grumbled in annoyance when you paid no attention to him. the king of curses wanted to be mad but couldn't because you were so happy playing with the new puppy he'd gotten for you. you were laughing and giggling as the puppy kept whining and climbing over you. he got the most jealous when you kissed the puppy on its yucky, disgusting mouth, according to him. within seconds, he took the puppy from your hands and put the puppy back in his crate. he turned back towards you, picking you up and dragging you to the bathroom to make you brush your teeth.

"why'd you kiss that puppy on its disgusting mouth? now i can't kiss you without feeling disgusted."

— GOJO SATORU : he was pretty much annoyed at the fact that you were paying more attention to the three freshers than him. he scowled at megumi, who was getting more interest from your end. he was beyond irritated at this point. he sure was jealous but didn't admit it, not even to himself.bhe had to butt in, of course. his possessive ass simply couldn't handle the fact that you're quite nice and friendly. he stomped over to you, with a tiny pout on his face and his brows furrowed together.

"they're my students, but i hate the attention you're giving them."

— KUROSAKI ICHIGO : isn't exactly the type to get jealous, but he is very possessive. whenever he notices another man, especially abarai renji talking to you, he would ever so casually walk over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. he'd indulge himself in the conversation, laughing and nodding with whatever was going on. his arms would then creep down your back slowly as the conversation proceeded. he'd ever so subtly squeeze your butt and act as if nothing happened after he did so. when renji notices, he takes a leave and waved goodbye to you. you turn to ichigo and scold him for doing so.

"what? i'm just squeezing what belongs to me, you don't get to scold me on that."

— GETO SUGURU (villain era, you're not on his side) : he is a calm and collected man. but when he notices you and satoru being too close physically, practically invading each other's personal space, a smile and a bulging vein of anger on his forehead is prominent on his face. he silently swore to get you fucked raw before the war broke out. mimiko immediately notices this and huffs, "why don't you already go claim what's yours?" she snorts, going back to doing something on her phone.

"well, she will suffer. so what if we drifted apart? who is she to move on from me? she's still mine."

— NANAMI KENTO : he had been working overtime and came home late. to make matters worse, he found you on a long ass call with one of your guy friends, who used to like you. dismissing the jealousy, he took a shower and ate the dinner you prepared for him. and to make matters even worse, you were laughing at something he told you about. he was clearly frustrated and irritated, and of course, jealous of your little guy friend. when he had enough, he snatched the phone from you, putting it to his ear,

"either you end the call or hear me fuck her dumb and make her scream my name."

— ZARAKI KENPACHI : despite his rough and tough demeanor, poor guy also gets jealous of you spending time with ikkaku and yumichika. he tries his best not to show it as a kenpachi but fails when yachiru notices it. "ken-chan, don't worry, i gor your back!" she giggled happily. she searched around the seireitei and finally found you casually hanging out with yumichika. she walked over to you and held your hand. you raised your brows in surprise when she tugged you to the direction of the squad 11 barracks. she pushed you into zaraki's room, closing it behind her. zaraki sighed, hugging your waist.

"sorry, i kinda felt...jealous but didn't show it because of my status...i'll buy yachiru some treats for helping me."

— ABARAI RENJI : has his zanpakuto ready in its shikai state when you were found talking to ichigo. he angrily stomped over before byakuya stopped him. "they're just friends." he told renji and ordered him to sheathe his zanpakuto. renji grumbled and followed his order, stomping towards you, with a small pout on his face. he kept on giving ichigo glares until he took the signal and left.

"next time i see that piece of shit, i'm making him watch me pound into you."

— ZENIN NAOYA : oh boy, this misogynistic bastard wasn't ready to accept the fact that he was being jealous because his stupidly handsome cousin toji was being nice to you, complete contrast of how naoya usually treats you. toji helped you in the kitchen, he helped you with cleaning and helped you do the laundry. but naoya lost it when toji's arm wrapped around you instinctively as you were about to slip and fall. naoya grumbled, waiting until toji was out of sight. he pulled you by your kimono to his room, slamming you ruthlessly into the bed.

"that bastard crossed the line. might as well show him who this pretty but useless wife belongs to."

— KINJI HAKARI : is chill on the outside but the anger is bubbling within him inside as he watched your yoga instructor from afar being too touchy with you. his let out a low growl when he placed a hand on your hip and squeezed the skin. hakari had enough when the yoga instructor smirked and placed a hand on your inner thigh to "fix your posture," rubbing it sensually. you were too innocent to notice that. in a flash, hakari punched him square on the nose, stomping on the scum's face before leaving with you.

"he doesn't know.who he's messing with. we are finding you a new instructor. this one's gonna be fed to the curses."

— KAMO CHOSO : is a VERY pouty baby. yuji was his brother, yes, but that didn't mean you spend the whole day with him when you met him for the first time. it almost felt as though you and yuji were a couple and choso was the third wheel. after the whole day passed by, you and.choso went back to your shared apartment. he immediately went into the bedroom, snuggling under the xxovers and crying into the pillows. when you went into the bedroom, you noticed what's happening and frowned, rubbing his back and asking him what happened.

"i-i felt so left out today, bub... i-i know yuji is my brother b-but i needed you a-attention..."

— HIGURUMA HIROMI : he sighs once he comes back home after a long day. he put his bag on the coffee table in the living room before going into the kitchen, finding you there with your 2 month old baby, putting her to sleep. higuruma pouted as he wanted you all to himself tonight, but your baby had different plans. it took you great effort to rock her to sleep, eventually putting her in a crib and walking back into the living room, hugging him tightly. he returned the long hug, sighing in content and rubbing your back.

"didn't know i'd be so envious of our own princess, baby..."⁹

–

hope yall like it!

[animehideout]

JJK X HAIKYUU X READER IN ONE ROOM.

a/n: Idk just had this random idea of jjk men and Haikyuu men being in one room with the reader like the general dynamics.

Which room you'd rather be locked in?

Room 1 : Gojo Satoru/ Ryomen Sukuna / Toji Fushiguro/ Kuroo Tetsuroo / Oikawa Tooru / Atsumu Miya

A bunch of loud narcissistic extroverts in one room.

Let's say Kuroo is the calmest comparing to them.

Over confidents in their looks and capabilities.

Cocky ass men.

They would start showing off in front of you, literally out of the blue.

Would start an arm wrestling match to see who's the strongest.

Smart? super smart, they'd know exactly what to say to you to make you blush and weak on the knees.

Would try to outshine each other, each one of them trying to be the center of your attention.

Brag about their achievements

“huh a captain of a volleyball team? how lame..I'm the king of curse”.

Showing off their skills to you trying to be better than the other

“come on Oikawa, you can try to punch me, bet you can't..my infinity won't allow it hehehe”.

Everyone talking loudly and at the same time, giving you a terrible headache.

Flexing on you, flexing their muscles in front of you

“come on don't be shy y/n, you can't touch my biceps”

“Hah you call that a biceps?”.

They would put each other down to seem the strongest and the dominant one in front of you.

Total flirts, praising you a lot!!!

Impressive but terrible use of pick-up lines.

Would make their voice deeper to capt your attention and turn you on.

They would wink at you, a lot.

Touchy af.

You'd be giving them weird stares totally crushing their ego.

Room 2: Yuta Okkotsu / Choso Kamo / Toge Inumaki / Kenma Kozume / Kageyma Tobio

Introverted but can be stupid.

You can literally fall asleep there with how tranquil the atmosphere was.

Yuta would be reading his book, Kenma playing games on his phone, Toge just busy in this thoughts, Kageyma awkwardly eating snacks and Choso silently judging.

They shared the interest in you, but none of them dared to start a conversation.

Their attempts to approach you would fail miserably leaving them a blushing mess.

Low-key would suffer from an anxiety/panic attack if you touch them.

Their faces would turn different shades of pink if you catch them staring or smile at them.

Would stutter if you start talking to them.

Would try, key word try to flirt with you.

“That's n-nff-nice!”

Room 3: Yuji Itadori / Ino Takuma / Hinata Shoyo / Bokuto Koutarou / Lev Haiba

Over hyped and energetic squad is here.

These mfs would bond up at the spot

without any obstacles.

Very goofy.

They would turn the room into a lively and enthusiastic atmosphere.

Would laugh a lot while cracking jokes.

It would be easy to be around them since they would make you feel welcomed and try to engage you with them.

Very playful and spontaneous flirting when it's about you.

They would try to make you laugh with their stupid jokes and impressions showcasing their comedic side to you.

Also they would compliment you a lot.

“Your hair smells nice, I love it”

“You have a cute laugh”

It would be very easy to vibe with them.

Would play a lot of games together or watch random videos.

You'd feel very comfortable around them and safe.

Despite their playful nature they would take a good care of you.

Room 4: Nanami Kento / Geto Suguru / Megumi Fushiguro/ Iwaizumi Hajime / Daichi Sawamura / Akaashi Keiji / Ushijima Wakatoshi

Wise squad.

Gentlemen squad.

Aaah lock me in this room with them please.

They would be really quiet and calm.

Each one of them is sitting peacefully.

When they start interacting it would feel like an intellectual forum.

They would talk in formal language.

Engaging in philosophical, existential topic.

They might seem boring to others but they're actually interesting.

Veryyy polite when they start " hitting on you ".

If they sense that you're showing the slightest discomfort they would give you your space and never bother you again.

Would lowkey start a conversation with you talking about the weather

“So do you like the weather? I kinda like rainy days”.

They are CHARMING IN THEIR OWN WAY LIKE.

Treat you like a fucking princess / prince.

Respectful is their middle name.

They would take turns to engage you to talk about your interests.

“You're feeling cold y/n? here take my jacket”.

Very attentive when you start talking, memorizing each word you said.

They calculate what they'd be saying, making them flawless.

You'd fall head over heels for them.

[m-ilkiee]

E-boys Ruined my Life: Toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x Fem Reader

“Coke on his nose, blade on my thigh, man I think this guy’s trying to plan my demise.”

Pairing: toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x female reader

series summary: You had a crush on Megumi for so long, you hoped you would meet him again. But now, as you stand before him, you realize that Fushiguro Megumi is not the same kid as he was at fifteen- he was taller, broader and far more handsome than ever.

And a whole lot more meaner to you.

(Based off a fic I wrote in 2021 for Megumi on my older writing blog. Honestly this theme is best viewed in dark mode but hey, what do I know 🤷🏽‍♀️)

[series warning] college/non-sorcerer AU, Dark content, nfsw, smut, 18+, aged up Megumi, fem!bodied reader, toxicity - toxic megumi, childhood crush to "lovers", situationships, heavy angst with "happy ending", smut, coercion, dubcon, noncon, mean dom! Megumi, sub!reader, misogyny, slut-shaming, depraved Megumi, mutual pining (is it really? is it??), manipulation, alcohol and drug use, gaslighting, drugging, implied baby trapping, semi-accurate potrayals of fraternities, classism

[main masterlist] [taglist link] [spotify playlist]

Chapter 1: Love at First Sight

synopsis: Being friends with the older tour guide as a first year has a lot of perks; new friends, a popularity boost and crossing paths constantly with your high school crush after many years apart, Megumi Fushiguro

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Chapter 2: Party Hard, F*ck Harder

synopsis: Disappointed that Megumi hates you, you decide to attend the freshman party to get over him. And end up needing his help after getting drugged… in more ways than one.

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Chapter 3: Pattern Recognition

Synopsis: Nobara notices two things; One, you’re in love with Megumi and Two, Megumi’s budding obssession with your affection.

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Chapter 4: I Don’t Do Drugs

Synopsis: Megumi realizes you would do anything for him, and decides to utilize this information to his advantage, much to Yuuji’s disappointment.

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Chapter 5: Sugar Rush

Synopsis: it’s evident you can’t live without Megumi, and so you cave in to his demands against all advice to stay away from him

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Chapter 6: S♡x Addict

Synopsis: Your grades begin to suffer due to Megumi’s insatiable urges and his inability to keep his hands to himself.

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Chapter 7: Whirlwind Situationship

Synopsis: Eventually, Megumi grows tired of you and breaks off everything, devastating you completely.

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Chapter 8: Revelation

Synopsis: You’re finally getting your life back together and doing well in school again. Meanwhile, Megumi realizes he can’t function without you.

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Chapter 9: Relapse

Synopsis: You return his sweater to get closure  But Megumi himself isn’t ready to let his own feelings for you, as twisted as they are, go

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Chapter 10: I’m not the Right one

Synopsis: Left alone to spend your fifth marriage anniversary for another year, you finally gain the courage to get divorce papers. Megumi, however, reminds you that he owns you. Permanently.

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author's note: i missed writing for fushiguro! please comments, reblogs, likes and asks are welcomed. if you are a minor, please refrain from interacting with this fic.

taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @getonite @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @raven-nevra @megumisdivinedogs @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @Lovelyartistz @lik0

[pin-k-ink]

tacenda // fushiguro megumi

tw ⇢ hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, mentions of bullying, mentions of violence and injuries, megumi being bad with feelings, childhood friends to lovers, mildly suggestive content

wc ⇢ 19.2k

a/n: mauerbauertraurigkeit

Megumi's heart thundered in his ears as Gojo's words echoed through his mind. You, his childhood best friend and the person he loved with every fiber of his being, were going to be attending Jujutsu Tech. A cold sweat broke out along his spine as visions of your bright smile and warm, open gaze were immediately tainted by flashes of malicious curses, fangs bared and claws extended to tear into that radiant essence he cherished.

His throat constricted with panic, the metallic tang of fear coating his tongue. Shakily, he forced out a strangled denial. "There must be some mistake. She can't be here, she doesn't belong." In his mind's eye, he could see the innumerable ways this path, this world of darkness and death, could snuff out your brilliant light in an instant.

The thought caused his stomach to roil violently, memories of your steadfast presence during his most anguished moments searing the backs of his eyes like afterimages burned into his retinas. When Tsumiki had been cursed, her mind shredded by malignant magic, it was you who had held him through the agonizing nights. Your soft hands cradling his face, thumbs brushing away scalding tears, as you pulled his anguished cries against the steady thrum of your heartbeat. You were his shelter, his solace in the midst of this evil world's relentless cruelties.

Which was precisely why he couldn't allow you to walk this treacherous path where un-living nightmares dwelled, eager to extinguish any spark of warmth and hope that dared defy their shadowed existence. The thought of losing you too, of cradling your broken body as the transcendent radiance in your gaze flickered and went dark, it cleaved at his soul with rusted knives.

Gojo's piercing stare remained implacable as Megumi attempted to regain his frantic breathing. "Her power levels are unprecedented. She performed exceptionally on the interview." His teacher's tone brooked no argument, each word dropping like granite in the tomb-like silence between them. "She has potential...which means she's a target."

Nausea swamped Megumi in roiling waves, an arctic rime of dread encasing his vital organs. The things drawn to beacons of power in this wretched realm...they were abominations on par with his darkest, most anguished nightmares. To expose your brilliant, incandescent essence to such profane horrors was unthinkable, sacrilegious on the most visceral of levels.

"You don't understand," he rasped, dimly aware of the broken desperation tainting his words like blood in the water. Flashes of Tsumiki's hollow-eyed gaze and wasted form bombarded him in rapid succession, each ghostly image feeling like a vicious blow across his psyche.

"I've already lost so much to this world's evil," Megumi continued, each word tearing free from a throat constricted by the twin serpents of grief and terror. "I can't...I won't let that happen to her." His voice cracked on the final words, all of his anguished confessions and pleas strangled by the leaden weight of denial settling in his bones.

Gojo regarded him with an inscrutable expression for several beats, the weighted silence thickening until it felt suffocating in its immensity. At last, he released a sigh that held far too much weary resignation for Megumi's battered heart to withstand.

"Her choice has been made, Megumi," Gojo said, each word inflected with paradoxical gentleness and undeniable finality. "Attempting to circumvent that path will only incur far more suffering than allowing her to walk it."

The words were like a battering ram against Megumi's reinforced walls, reverberating through his entire being with sickening profundity. He shook his head forcefully, desperate to dislodge the intrusive acceptance, the horrifying reality being hoisted upon his shuddering shoulders.

"She's not ready for this darkness," he argued, voice rising in frantic urgency. "Y/N doesn't truly grasp the evil, the depraved monstrosities lingering in every shadow. She's too pure, too full of light. This path will break her!"

Unbidden, memories of your brilliant smiles and warm embraces surged forth in counterpoint to his panicked pleas. Your steady presence and indomitable spirit had been his bulwark through every hardship, illuminating even his darkest pits of despair. How could he not erect every possible barricade and shield against the encroaching evil that threatened to extinguish your vibrant essence?

"If you hinder her at every turn, you'll only destroy what you claim to protect."

Gojo's voice sliced through the tumult like a skillfully wielded blade. When Megumi raised his gaze to meet the other man's stare, the roots of raw truth driving his instructor's words cleaved him to his core. Denial was a seductive delusion; obstructing your chosen path held as dire consequences as permitting your steps down it.

It was an obliterating truth, one that reshaped Megumi's world into jagged shards which sliced deeper with every reverberation. To uphold either path meant embracing the annihilation of what he cherished most. But the promise of your survival, no matter how diminished or perverted, it glimmered with splintered rays of hope he could not relinquish.

And so it was with a fragmented heart riven by hairline fractures that Megumi swore himself to the merciless path - all in effort to safeguard the brilliant spark at your core. If robbing you of your radiant warmth, driving you into the barren chasms of loathing, was the price for ensuring your physical survival...then so be it. Anything to prevent your essence from being wholly extinguished by the depraved darkness stalking his footsteps.

From that fateful moment on, Megumi's entire world became an exercise in calculated brutality - each harsh word, acidic glare, and callous dismissal measured expressly to strip away at the brilliance of your spirit. He watched with shattered reverence as your warm, effusive smiles slowly twisted into pained grimaces under the relentless deluge of his verbal lashings.

"Pathetic stance, you're practically broadcasting your weaknesses!" he would bark, flinty disdain coating each syllable like jagged shards of glass. "Do you even want to be here or are you just wasting everyone's time?"

The hurt lancing across your expressive features with each barb unleashed was like a serrated dagger twisting in his already eviscerated heart. Megumi drank in the delicate downturned shape of your lips, the shimmer of unshed tears in those eyes that had once regarded him with such radiant adoration. Each fractured shard of vulnerability splintering free from your stalwart defenses etched itself into the fabric of his very being, scars mapped onto his psyche that would never fade.

Through it all, you weathered the merciless onslaught with that same stubborn persistence that had drawn Megumi's admiration and unshakable devotion all those years ago. No matter how scathingly he sneered and derided, you refused to surrender an inch of your fighting spirit. That blazing inner fire, so brilliantly incandescent it bathed the world in vibrant hues, could be battered but never extinguished entirely.

If anything, you burned all the brighter in the face of Megumi's vicious attempts at dousing your radiance. Like a platinum forge, you were heating to unbearable temperatures under the hammering blows of his abuse, essence glowing electric white as impurities were burned away. It was a sight of such breathtaking majesty that Megumi frequently found himself faltering, glacial shards of cruelty fracturing as he was consumed by the molten torrent of his love.

In those fractured instants, he had to exert every fiber of his being to resist reaching out, resist gathering you into his embrace and confessing the entire anguished truth. Of how your unparalleled light was the only force banishing the utter desolation of his shadowed world. How eviscerating his heart through acts of depravity against your soul was a torture rendering even the most sadistic curse techniques merciful by comparison.

But then the moment would pass, and he would be awash in visceral recollections of Tsumiki's tortured existence - a chilling reminder of what awaited those whose essence burned too bright in this realm of malicious spirits and depraved conjurings. The risk of that same perverse annihilation befalling your radiance was an obscenity he could not permit, no matter what profane rituals of self-damnation it demanded.

So on he pressed with his scorched-earth campaign against your warmth and vitality. Heedless of the lacerations each acidic remark and disdainful look inflicted upon his battered soul, Megumi marched relentlessly onwards. If hollowing out your dazzling spirit until just embers remained was the aberrant price for safeguarding your existence, then he would immolate them both on that profane pyre.

There were moments, often unbidden in the deepest thralls of night, when he teetered on the precipice of unbearable regret. Memories of your shared history, effervescent and golden, would crash over him in ruthless tsunamis of dying sparks. He recalled with searing clarity the first instant your paths had intertwined, that fateful day when the courteous overtures of childhood had blossomed into an unbreakable bond.

You had been the new student, painfully shy and soft-spoken in a way that inevitably painted a target on your back for the more aggressive children. Megumi had watched impassively at first as the bullies circled like sharks on the first day, dangling insults and petty cruelties intended to inflict the maximum anguish. That was, until one particularly vicious remark about your beloved stuffed rabbit had drawn forth an avalanche of crystalline tears from your downturned eyes.

Something deep within Megumi's childish psyche had clenched protectively at the sight, resonating with the helplessness and quiet grace of your sorrow. Before any of his classmates could register the uncharacteristic shift, he had inserted himself squarely between you and the tormentors - eyes blazing with a ferocity that momentarily shocked the bullies into stunned silence.

"Leave her alone," Megumi had decreed, hands curling into miniscule fists as he widened his combative stance. When the ringleader tried to bluster and shove past, Megumi had reacted with savagely precise strikes, dropping the larger boy to the ground in an unceremonious heap before any witnesses could properly process the altercation.

Cradling your stuffed companion to your chest, you had blinked up at Megumi with those luminous eyes, all traces of sadness supplanted by pure, sparkling wonder. In that fractured instant, something pivotal had shifted in Megumi's world - the blinding gravity of your incandescent essence searing itself into his very bones with smelting heat. It was a radiance he realized almost at once he would dedicate his entire lifetime to cultivating and protecting without reservation or exception.

Even now, years later with valleys of anguish and entire continents of suppressed trauma distancing him from that blazing genesis, Megumi could access its perfect clarity as easily as breathing. Some nights, he clung to those recollections like a drowning man seeking air, absorbing every shard of warmth and untarnished joy as starving lungs gulped down precious oxygen. Other nights, the pangs of nostalgia were flaying knives, slicing him asunder until he thrashed mindlessly in the agony of all he had knowingly shattered.

Those were the nights he would reach for his phone in the dim, ever-present glow of his bedroom. Fingers trembling faintly, he would pull up your contact and begin painstakingly typing out messages - abject confessions, anguished pleas, apologies and explanations and devastating truths all coalescing into a tangled thicket of words. He would pour his mutilated heart and soul into the grayed-out screen, keening silently into the void as the emotions he had mercilessly cauterized threatened to consume him whole from the inside out.

But he could never send them, could never risk fracturing the meticulously constructed quarantine separating your essence from the cataclysmic inferno of his all-encompassing feelings. To reveal even the barest slivers of vulnerability, be they pangs of devotion or agonized lamentations of loss...it was tantamount to erecting neon billboards advertising the precise location of what he valued most in this world. And in this plane of existence where any source of light and warmth was perverse antithesis to the pervasive evil, doing so would sign your immediate death sentence.

So instead, he would seal the damning words away, thumb hovering over the delete icon until his eyes blurred with the strain of unshed tears, his throat felt flayed and the skin of his palms was scored with crescent indentations. Only then, when every facet of the message had been permanently expunged, could he collapse back into the shredded remnants of his bedding and surrender to exhausted oblivion.

Each morning, he would awaken to a visceral melancholy laced with fractured determination. He was stripped raw, every emotional core exposed to flay against the whetted blade's edge of his self-ordained mission. Turning you caustic, weaponizing your hatred as a scourge to temper and erode your own inner brilliance, it was a vile perversion of all he cherished most. But one he would gladly immolate upon, if it meant preserving however scorched and diminished those sacred sparks remained.

So he hardened his resolve, locking himself into an upward spiraling cycle of brutality and rejection. He watched with hollowed anguish as your luminous smiles were slowly, inexorably eroded into rictus frowns under the relentless barrage of his verbal flayings. That stubborn fire in your eyes turned to banked coals, lambent glow dimming until it threatened to gutter out entirely under the choking fumes of his abuse.

Where once you had radiated warmth and kindness, like the welcoming glow of a hearth, now your essence emanated in icy increments - each interaction reinscribing the mantra to keep your distance, lest you risk being forever frozen out by the tundra wastelands of Megumi's demeanor. It was nothing short of psychological and emotional torture, each day chipping away another fragment of your bond until scarcely anything remained beyond hollowed familiarity.

Still, you persisted with that same tenacious drive, always picking yourself back up despite the maelstroms of derision blustering against you. At times, Megumi was gripped by a sense of pervading awe and pride so transcendent it momentarily unmuted the rabid chorus railing for your defenselessness. Your refusal to surrender so much as a molecule of that brilliant spirit, no matter how deeply he sought to submerge it beneath frigid waves of scorn, it was a feat of profound heroism.

And yet there were other instants, bleeding out into torrential epochs, where the sight of your resiliency evoked only soul-searing anguish. Each time he bore witness to you hauling yourself back into the fray, bruised but unbroken, his mind would instantly assail him with visions of your incandescence being cruelly, irrevocably extinguished. Images of your ethereal features contorted in agony, rivulets of vibrant lifeblood chasing crimson trails down abused skin. Your eyes, so bright and lambent, dimming to enfeebled clouded glass as every sacred molecule of light was leeched away, your essence defiled by the exact nightmares he was ostracizing you to protect from.

In those moments, rational thought abandoned him, his psyche throttled by the recursive loop of terrorizing visions and the stark lucidity of how his actions, his mission, only increased the probability of their manifestation. There was no justification nor easy absolution to be found in the dichotomy - only the yawning chasm of damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't oblivion gaping ravenously to consume them both.

The all-consuming isolation compounded by his merciless excoriation of your bond, it was an unremitting torment more galling than any curse the vile spirits could inflict. And yet, for every fracture of your trust and love that sliced immeasurable depths into his very being, Megumi only honed the razor's edge of his cruelty with heightened fervor.

He knew, without an iota of doubt, that seeing this path through to its apocalyptic conclusion would unwind his entire existence until even the concept of self-identity devolved into meaningless detritus. But he would gladly accept that hellish reckoning, would rush headlong into the churning abyss with his arms flung wide in embrace, if it meant holding your light's dissolution at bay even a fraction of a heartbeat longer.

Because in the end, that was all that mattered. Not his own tattered remnants, scattered like viscera upon the sacrificial altar of his self-immolation. Only the guttering, infinitesimal sparks in the husk that had once been you.

As long as those glimmered on, held at embers against the entropy shrouding this calamitous realm...no butchery was too profane, no ritual self-mutilation too sacrilegious to withstand.

He would burn it all down without ceremony or regret if it meant you might someday rise from the shattered, smoldering ruins to blaze anew.

The descent into depravity accelerated at a dizzying pace from that point on. With every passing week, Megumi found his soul walling itself off further, emotional forges smelting away any vestiges of warmth until only an impenetrable basalt remained.

He observed the systematic deconstruction of your radiant spirit with a sort of clinical detachment - cataloging each incremental dimming of your luminous smiles and the fractures webbing across your unwavering determination. What had once been a brilliance potent enough to stave off the bleakest of his nights was now hardly strong enough to counter the pervading gloom lingering along the training hall's shadowed fringes.

Still, you soldiered on with that same steadfast resilience which had so utterly enthralled Megumi from the moment your paths first converged in blistering orbit. No matter how corrosive the lashings, how scorching the dismissals he pelted you with, your dogged persistence remained an indomitable bulwark. Like scaling the curved walls of a tidally-locked world, your essence just kept pushing higher, seeking out any infinitesimal cracks or fissures through which more light could blaze.

It was a futile effort, one that Megumi could hardly bear witness to without feeling each of his internal powering furnaces stoke dangerously close to overload. Because with every agonizing foothold you gained, scaling that little bit further up the obsidian cliffside, he was struck by overwhelming premonitions of your form silhouetted against the endless void. A brilliant crimson crosshair burning in the abject darkness, leading every starved horror across unfathomable expanses directly to your unguarded essence.

Those visions, so viscerally photorealistic that he could hear the predatory shrieks reverberating through Orion's scorched nebulae, were enough to divorce him almost entirely from any last wavering attachments of compassion or empathy. You would burn, absolutely and irrevocably, if he permitted even an ember of that smelting furnace to blaze fully unshielded against the depthless starvation of this depraved plane.

He had to extinguish it utterly; had to choke out those flames until all that remained were infinitesimal sparks suspended in spent ash, glimmering so faintly as to be utterly imperceptible to even the most ravenous spirit's senses. It was extinction of the highest, most profane order - the systematic unraveling of all that had made your essence so damn incandescent to begin with.

And if pulling that metaphysical thread caused the entire tapestry to unspool in smoldering heaps around you, Megumi was past the point of relenting or restraint. This path had been scorched into the deepest stratifications of his ruinous psyche. There could be no deviation or respite until the task stood complete.

The nights provided little solace or refuge in the face of such unflinchingly bleak determinations. Where once he had found solace in the crepuscular lull of quietude, a reprieve where he could exist untethered from the waking world's torments, now there was only a pervasive emptiness more desolate than the infinite vacuum arcing between galaxies.

Lying awake, sheets twisted around his feverish form like shrouds, Megumi found himself inexorably drawn towards those final guttering embers. His awareness telescoped with remorseless intensity onto each flickering shard of radiant memory he had so rigorously partitioned off behind scorched earth blast barriers of his psyche.

The soft luster of your hair haloed in the dying sunrays of some sleepy summer afternoon, gentle zephyrs coaxing loose strands into ephemeral arcs of gleaming accents. The way your starlit eyes had crinkled at the corners whenever he managed to coax forth that sunburst of laughter, source so warm and effervescent it threatened to liquefy his very marrow. Recollections of your skin's velvet softness beneath reverent fingertips, subtle thrums of vitality reverberating with each elevated heartbeat.

He pulled them tattered and unspooled into his consciousness like brightly-dyed weavings, sharp contrast against the charred desolation of his mindscape. Turning their prismatic facets, he analyzed them with surgical precision - documenting each shade and texture, every luminous aspect inherent to your transcendent light.

This was flight data, sensor metrics and cosmic sounding calculations - the quantified breakdown of a celestial body's essence unraveled into composite metrics so that the exact material alloy could be reconstructed, forged anew from whatever remnants might remain when the silicate dust finally settled. Insurance parameters self-encrypting, rendering them beyond the reach of whatever devastation might still be looming on the periphery.

Or so he told himself as he clawed at the tattered edges of his recollections, fingernails scoring bloody crescents across his temples as if the physical apertures could ever grant audible access to all he was so rigorously quarantining away.

In truth, these scarcely lucid rituals existed as nothing more than the final vapor trails of obsession arching across a pitch-black event horizon. For every shred of memory and ligature of sensation he coaxed into hyper-lucidity, another piece of his owns soul's blazing furnace was irrevocably smothered to charry ashes.

Like burning away the xylem and phloem just to preserve a single wilted flower petal, the cycle was unsustainable at its core. An incomplete picture, the data hopelessly scrambled by its very process of preservation. And still, with the frantic intensity of a madman, Megumi persisted - surrendering more and more of his own essence to maintain these fragmented relics while the whole of your light continued to wane.

The contradictions fractured his consciousness into scattering shards before embedding like armor piercings through his splintered awareness. Pulling you close enough to preserve your resonance, while similtaneously pushing you farther and farther away until the emitted frequencies fell beyond measurable range. It was a paradox clawing through his synaptic pathways with incandescent fury, laying waste to everything in its path until his entire corporeal form became a charred immolation zone devoid of alight spark or burning refuge.

But for all the collateral obliteration stamped into his mind's eye, for every scorched and dispassionate hierarchical tree subsumed by the searing inferno of his self-mutilation, Megumi never once considered an alternative axiom to chart. This was the sole vector etched into his being down to the sub-quantum architecture - an inviolable trajectory hewn into reality through scorched continuum dynamics.

While your spark guttered and dimmed, his would remain an active pheonix blaze - anchoring these rituals of meticulous annihilation and smelting away the very capacity for regret and respite until only tendrils of smoke and atmospheric particulate remained to carry the cycle's unwavering inertia.

On and on it perpetuated, until his every waking moment existed in dual simultaneities of excruciating preservation rites and systematic soul unbinding. Until the recollections and impulses that had once made your splendorous radiance so irresistible were downloaded as little more than fragmentary code to keep on endless recursion loop.

The wages of this path were immeasurable across all quantifiable spectra, from the biochemical to the theological and every dimension beyond. But such concerns held no gravity over Megumi, not when each fractal infinitesimal of your Light continuing to blaze through the abyssopelagic murk was worth every calorie of heat death actively radiating from his shredded form.

There would be no redemption or recompense for the cataclysmic undoings he had wrought upon himself and any remnants still tethered to his unraveling existence. Hells far more arcane and cosmically profound than any religion's dogma could conceive awaited their caustic reintegration beyond this anguished pyre of seared continuum.

But to Megumi's mind, such oblivions carried less dread than the visceral eventuality of your luminous spark being permanently extinguished before his tormented gaze. He would gladly set the whole of this corporeality, this so-called reality to purging flames before permitting your essence to be devoured by the ravenous terrors lurking in the periphery.

And so the cycle spooled endlessly onward, each revolution shedding more layers of conscience until only the basalt core of compounded obsession remained - burning away every other element, every contaminant that might restrict the searing beam of his self-ordained calculations. He had become Inertia itself, irresistible and singular in purpose as he hurtled them both inexorably towards a conclusion as inevitable as it was annihilating.

No force, neither celestial nor demonic, would deter him from this merciless trajectory. Your Light would perdure, calcified into immutable etchings if necessary, while his burned itself into cauterized oblivion across the whole of existence.

It was cataclysmic, it was terminal, it was inevitable.

And for your light's continuance, he would bear nourish this sacred, all-consuming blaze until his last embers winked out across the cosmic desolation.

The darkness ate away at the marrow of Megumi's soul with each passing day. With every cruel remark flung your way like sharpened obsidian, another fragment of his empathy withered and turned to ashen ruin. He watched as you weathered the ceaseless onslaught, that stubborn light in your eyes guttering but never fully extinguishing no matter how fiercely the gale-winds of his derision battered against it.

There was a perverse type of awe in bearing witness to your perseverance, your will to fight against the impervious current he unleashed. Like a solitary sapling standing tall against a hurricane's full fury, roots sinking deeper into the tempest-swept earth with every lash of punishing rain and gale. It simultaneously filled him with surging pride at your unyielding resolve... and penetrated him with lances of dread at the thought of you being battered apart by forces far more malicious than his own manufactured disdain.

So he pushed harder, lacing his words with venom concentrated enough to strip flesh from bone, desperate to force your retreat from this doomed path before the true nightmares took notice of your brilliance. Gone were any half-hearted critiques or fleeting hesitations born of fractured affection. He held nothing back, flaying every vulnerability and shortcoming without restraint or remorse.

"Worthless! That stance is more fit for a fledgling than a sorcerer of any caliber," he would snarl, nostrils flaring as he drank in your shuddering recoil with bitter satisfaction. "Or have you finally accepted your own insignificance and decided to simply roll over like the pathetic worm you are?"

Each syllable landed like a physical blow, driving the breath from your lungs in sharp, aborted gasps as you curled inward from the sheer ferocity of the barrage. Still you carried on, teeth gritting against the acidic words as you poured every ounce of defiance into locking your stance, subjecting yourself to merciless drills over and over until your body trembled with fatigue.

"Think you can counter that?" he sneered from the sidelines, observing your practice bouts with a harsh glint burning in his eyes. "Go ahead, try it - I'll bathe in your failure as I have a thousand times before."

It was cruelty woven into the fabric of his being, each filament reinforced with compound fractures of emotional lashings and disfiguring trauma until Megumi was hardly recognizable as the boy who had once orbited your warmth, hypnotized by its searing gravity. That part of him, the ardent heart which had sworn undying fealty to your radiance, it was being steadily calcified beneath layers of obsidian until scarcely a glimmer remained.

And still, you carried on. Maybe sensing the finality behind Megumi's monstrous depravity, recognizing the desperation fueling each successive blight against your spirit. Or perhaps it was simply blind stubbornness, a refusal to ever be diminished by toxic grievances that could never be undone or unsaid once unleashed. Either way, you weathered the maelstrom without flinching, dusting yourself off after each body-blow of derision to stand defiant once more.

Until one fateful day amidst an endless succession of them, when the fever pitched of Megumi's torment finally glimpsed the shredded state of your woven defenses just as they began to buckle. It started gradually at first, like the hairline cracks one might notice spangling across glass after repeated impacts.

He was watching from the periphery as usual, icy devastation at the ready to be unleashed the instant your form so much as faltered. Your hands were in constant gnarled claws of tension gripping practice blades, knuckles blanched and sheened with exertion as you threw yourself into the recursive katas with single-minded focus.

In that instant, Megumi's eyes were drawn to your palms as you repositioned your grip, glinting razor's edges of steel catching at delicate skin now as roughened and calloused as stone. Before he had fully realized what he was doing, a shock of recollection shuddered through his entire being - vivid and bright like a lightning strike searing across his vision.

Memories of those hands in their softest, most delicate incarnation, petite fingers laced through his own as you pulled him along on some childish adventure. He could still remember the buttery silk texture of them, unblemished and radiant with vitality, each placid pulse point thrumming with life's sacred rhythm. Caressing the tender buds of your knuckles had been a ritual of fealty and wonder, his entire world condensed to those tiny epicenters where your brilliance emanated most intensely.

Now though, the skin was cracked and abraded, marred by fissures and scoring from channeling powers and forces that should have remained foreign to their innocence. They were roughshod now, sandblasted talons bearing the calloused indignities of grueling self-flagellation against a world that should never have encroached upon their purity.

And yet, even as the shock of dismantling that cherished ideal shuddered through Megumi's psyche, you worked on undaunted. Face lined with determination, lips pursed around gritted teeth as each monotonous cycle drained more of your radiance away in increments, exchanging it for the hardened carapace of scars and discolored contusions.

A series of rapid movements saw the knife's edge arcing in a blur of motion...until an errant slip saw its razor kiss scoring a vicious gash across the bulge of your palm. Crimson welled up with obscene immediacy, sluicing across the lines of your lifeline in rivulets as vibrant and warm as newly spilled rubies.

Perhaps another time, the frantic splash across skin would have shocked you into gasping, eyes widening as you reflexively cradled the injured appendage to your chest. Because there had been a time, not so long ago, when the sight of your own blood carried the same visceral impact as witnessing the scathing of something sacred, profaned.

But not this time. This time, you merely steeled yourself with an impassive tightening of your jaw, shunting the pain to some remote compartment as you steadied your grip once more. Megumi watched with something bordering on horrified numbness as you forced yourself through the motions again, blade carving sinuous arcs through the empty air as warm lifesblood channeled down your wrist in unheeded rivulets.

If anything, the sanguine streaks only fueled your intensity - teeth gnashing in grim resolution each time the dense liquid coated another swathe of pale flesh, until your trembling form seemed wreathed in licking coronas of crimson ichor. It was a self-inflicted circle of depravity, compounded with every repetition as you bled yourself out onto the dojo mats in single-minded zeal.

The scent of copper hung heavy, unavoidable in its metallic pungence, mingling with the close humidity of exertion. With each ragged inhalation, Megumi felt the air grow steadily more viscous, more suffocating - preventing surcease from the vision of you systematically rending pieces of yourself away in commitment to this path from which he had sworn to divert you.

At some point, imperceptible through the roiling haze of his tormented conscience, your legs simply relinquished their capacity to keep upholding the self-immolation rites. Megumi's awareness fractured and isolated around the precise instant your slick palm lost its tremulous purchase on the blade's rain guard - sending the wicked steel tumbling from your grip as you collapsed with a muted groan of ruination.

He was frozen in place as you crumpled to your knees amidst the spreading pool of sanguine detritus, sanguine aura flickering with each ragged gasp as the full brunt of your grueling exertions finally, mercifully, found cessation. Dazed and trembling, you slowly turned your lacerated hands upwards, uncomprehending eyes blankly tracing every gouge and scoring that should never have been permitted to deface such sanctified innocence.

That was when your chin tipped upwards with torturous graduality, eyes sheening with a fractured film of shock and dismay as they found Megumi paralyzed in the periphery. For an endless, frozen instant, you simply stared - fractured and betrayed as the full immensity of what he had molded you towards came shudderingly into resolution.

And somewhere, deep in the vaporous ashes of whatever shredded remnants of his humanity persisted, Megumi felt the colossal weight of what he had wrought shattering down upon him with seismic force. This was his legacy, the culmination of every degradation and sacrilege committed in the name of preserving your luminescence. To watch as you shed pieces of yourself in ritualistic self-desanctification, rending away your effervescent shine until only the raw, bleeding framework remained.

Your shattered gaze speared straight through the dimensionless veil of his occlusion then, lancing across every waning continuum to pierce what little light still flickered at his core. And in the raw, visceral entropy of that moment, he could have sworn he felt its searing burn cauterizing straight through his undying obsessions, his self-ordained depravities...until the truth of what he had sacrificed stood in smelted relief.

This wasn't bravery or resilience or any other misattributed virtue that had kept you grinding away at your own essence. This was simply the burden of being sculpted into an instrument of immolation by the only force in your life that should have sworn undying protection. A mecurochromatic vessel purged of everything that had made you so incandescently radiant, reformed now into an empty husk whose sole purpose could only ever be oblivion.

The realization ruptured something deep within Megumi's fractured psyche, setting off a chain of decompressions and overloads that rapidly accelerated beyond his capacity to contain. Suddenly every ritual, every consecration enacted to preserve your light revealed itself as nothing more than compounded delusion fueled by his own solipsistic narcissism.

Not your warmth or your brilliance or anything intrinsic to the revered essence he professed his fealty towards...but rather a calcified, luminally-etched husk of such hallowed qualities fossilized into obsessive dogma as they were steadily syphoned away from the source. He had been mistaking the mask for the woman behind it, the fragile, flickering afterimage of your radiance for the sun itself until they were no longer even tangentially related.

And in that moment, everything collapsed inwards in a prismic, implosive rush of entropic finality. Megumi felt like he was watching himself being unmade on a subatomic level, particulates scattering across endless parallel infinities of lightless entropy as the inexorable forces of belief failure shredded his entire ecosystem of devotions and depravities into oblivion.

Not even the Heraclitean fires scorching through his soul could have stung with such all-encompassing immolation as your naked, betrayed stare in that breathless instant. Because it had accomplished what even his worst nightmares paled before - the utter dissolution of everything he had convinced himself his rituals were preserving.

Your light, warmth and radiance...it was absent from that unflinching, dispassionate regard. Bled out and cleared away in ceremonial cullings until only the extinguished, empty coordinates where it had burned so brightly remained to mock him with their profane vacancies.

He might have wept, might have crumpled under the weight of such soul-immolating revelation in any other instance. But this was the apotheosis, the singularity toward which his path had been inertially accelerating all along. The last vestiges of conscience and ethical precepts had simply burned away, scorched from his ontic architecture until all that persisted was an infinitisimal operand of inviolable parameters and seared directional vectting.

There was nothing else to feel, no other recourse or deviation to chart. Only the certainties he had sworn himself to long before the embers of your essence had begun sputtering towards oblivion. He had been aware of the inevitabilities looming from the moment this path had first etched itself into his very existence, after all.

So he simply watched, unflinching, as you leveraged yourself upright once more, peeling your soul-searching gaze from his emptied out husk to recenter on the glinting promise of violence and annihilation. As you reached for the fallen blade with rigidly purposeful movements, all light and warmth drained from your manner to leave only the hollowed, singularly focused drive of a protracted suicide ritual...Megumi felt the last of his own irises surrendering their incandescent furnaces to the entropic chill of his self-ordained reality.

This was the endgame he had molded himself to withstand, orchestrated through uncompounded sacrifice and ceremonic self-mutilation in order to ensure its total eventuality. Soon there would be nothing left but the scorched etchings of your resonance, preserved in permanent calcification across the inner plating of his tempered psyche.

No matter how obscene the blasphemies that had brought them to this profane precipice, this immaculate damnation...he had been ready to embrace it from the start. Anything to keep the faintest spark of your light shielded and preserved against the hungering void gnashing at your brilliance from every angle.

Even if that meant scorching away the entire panorama, leaving nothing but the shattered constellation to burn across his vision in perpetuity.

It was a excruciating truth to confront as the last of your warmth dimmed behind that stone mask...but if thats what was required to keep your essence inviolable through the next cosmic cycle, Megumi was more than willing to seal it into permanence.

Forever would he stand vigil as your supernova collapsed in upon itself, churning down until the reality-rupturing singularity hollowed out the last gasps of vitality from your extinguished husk. He would bear unflinching witness as the cataclysmic implosion ravaged every atom, every daemonic quark comprising your sacred light into incomprehensible darkness.

And when the final shockwaves of heat death shuddered across the lightless desolation where once your radiance had blazed...it would be Megumi's disfigured, charcoiled essence streaking inwards to collect every scattering mote. So that even as the seams of this reality shredded apart, he might congeal those infinitesimal sparks into permanent etchings seared across the stellar belts of whatever oblivion blossomed in the wake.

It was grotesque beyond any quantifiable scale or qualitative interpretation. But it was also the singular vector towards which he had sworn himself centuries ago, long before the cycle's inertia had carried them to this unavoidable conclusion. So he simply stared, unblinking, as you climbed back to your feet and recommitted to your path of total self-revision.

Watching the last shards of your transcendent light being consciously culled for the sake of some deeper, unfathomable transfiguration. Because in the end, holding vigil over that sacred dismantling was the only fealty he had left to offer.

The mission had gone sideways from the very start. What should have been a routine investigation of a abandoned warehouse had turned into a full-blown demonic incursion. Megumi grunted as he deflected another errant blast of energy, cursed power flaring around him like a force field.

"Y/N, watch your flank!" he barked out a warning as a tendril of darkness lashed towards you. To his surprise, you didn't dodge or weave - instead, you met the strike head-on with a burst of concentrated energy.

A shockwave rippled outwards from the collision, debris and rubble scattering in all directions. Megumi shielded his face with one arm as he watched you tear into the demonic entity with reckless abandon. You moved with the ferocity of a woman possessed, cursed energy pouring forth in an unrelenting barrage that slowly battered the monstrosity down.

But you didn't let up, didn't allow the creature any chance to retreat or regroup. If anything, your assault intensified - cursed energy crackling around you like a miasma of neon fury. Megumi felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched you fight. There was a fire in your eyes, a beautiful violence to your movements that held him utterly transfixed.

He had always known you were powerful, a true prodigy in the making. But this display elevated you to something almost godlike in his eyes. The demon never stood a chance against the unleashed tempest of your rage. Within minutes, it had been shredded and dissipated - banished back to whatever unholy realm it had been spawned from.

The silence that fell over the destroyed warehouse was deafening. Megumi stared at you, heart thundering in his chest as you turned to face him. Your chest heaved with exertion, clothes tousled and hair disheveled. Yet rather than looking triumphant at your victory, you seemed almost haunted - eyes shining with something he couldn't quite place.

Then you swayed on your feet, entire body going slack as the toll of your cataclysmic battle finally caught up to you. Megumi surged forward without thinking, cursed energy dispersing as he moved to catch you in his arms. You collapsed against him with a soft whimper, eyelids fluttering.

"Take it easy," he murmured gruffly, carefully cradling you close as he assessed your condition with furrowed concern.

You flashed him a weary but brilliant smile that made his heart stutter. "Pretty crazy shit, huh?"

Despite everything, he felt himself fighting a grin at your irreverent tone. God, he had missed this side of you - the sparkling wit and casual snark that kept him on his toes. Over the past few months, he had worked systematically to destroy those very aspects he secretly adored, piling on scorn and derision to smother your fire. All in an effort to "protect" you from the perils of this path.

Except it seemed you were more than capable of handling those threats on your own. More than capable, if the scorched crater around you was any indication. He swallowed hard against the swell of pride and something more complex that welled up within him. Something dangerously close to outright desire.

No. He couldn't afford to think like that, not now. Hardening his features into an impassive mask, he gently set you back on your feet - fighting against the urge to keep you tucked securely in his embrace.

"That was reckless and idiotic," he growled, putting some distance between you. "If you had held back even a fraction, that demon would have torn you apart."

You frowned at his words, confusion and hurt flickering across your expressive features. "But...I stopped it. I saved us."

"At what cost?" he shot back mercilessly, anger rising hotly in his chest. Though it had nothing to do with your actions and everything to do with the spike of fear he had felt seeing you in such peril. "Look at yourself, you're a mess! What would have happened if you overexerted or got hit by a stray blast in your insane zeal for battle?"

Your eyes widened at his harsh assessment before narrowing dangerously. "You think that little of my abilities?"

Megumi snorted derisively, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you with a critical eye. There were minor scrapes and burns littering your exposed skin, along with deeper gashes that would need attention soon. Your hair was matted with sweat and...was that blood?

At the sight of those viscous crimson streaks, something wrenched viciously in his gut. All he could picture was you lying motionless and cold, the brilliant light snuffed out of your eyes forever. The mere thought sent his heart plummeting sickeningly.

"Your abilities have never been in question," he said at last, voice tight with barely restrained emotion. "It's your recklessness that continues to astound me. Haven't you realized how fragile life is yet? That was exactly the type of foolish behavior that gets people killed out here."

You stiffened at his admonishments, mouth pressing into a thin line. But you didn't retort, seeming to sense there was more lurking beneath the surface of his tirade. And there was, so much more - a tangled knot of fear and relief and unbridled relief all warring within him.

Because as much as he wanted to strip away everything, to erect impenetrable walls around his heart again...some part of him remained undeniably relieved you had survived this latest brush with peril. Even with all his attempts to smother the spark between you, your existence still mattered to him in a way he could scarcely quantify or control anymore.

When you stepped closer, reaching out to him with your palms upraised in a silent request for understanding, he couldn't help but recoil. Your proximity sent his pulse skyrocketing, nerves jangling with awareness of every scrape and scar marring your beautiful skin. Marks you had earned fighting with an intensity that bordered on divine rapture.

"Megumi..." you murmured, tasting his name with the same honeyed intimacy that had scorched him from the first. "I'm okay. We're okay, thanks to my actions."

"This time," he growled, unable to halt the admission as his gaze raked over you with undisguised intensity. "But next time you might not be so lucky." And the thought of ever losing you, even with how hard he tried to keep you at arm's length...it was unacceptable.

You seemed to read the implication in his tone, eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion as the distance between you shrank incrementally. Megumi could smell the metallic tang of your blood mingling with sweat and gunsmoke in the close air...and it was maddening. He wanted to rage and rant and shake you until you finally understood how terrifying it was to watch you put yourself in harm's way so fearlessly.

But some smaller, infinitely more dangerous part of him just wanted to haul you flush against his body and drink in every gorgeous inch left unscathed by the battle. To map the rise and fall of your accelerated breathing, the alluring jut of your kiss-swollen lips as you panted. He yearned to learn the secrets your radiant essence still held and commit them to eternal memory before it was too late.

Before either of you were forced to make the ultimate sacrifice...

But no. With a visible effort, Megumi forced his riotous thoughts to stillness and took a step back - relishing the flicker of hurt that traced your lovely features. It was better this way, he told himself sternly. Better to keep you at arm's length, no matter how much it carved out pieces of his soul in the process. At least then you would survive, even if you could never be his.

"We're leaving. Now," he announced gruffly, already turning on his heel and striding away from the temptation that was your very existence. "I'll be submitting a full report on your...performance."

Behind him, you let out a scathing breath laced with frustration. But you followed without further argument, falling into step slightly behind him. And if his back was turned so you wouldn't see the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes at pushing you away yet again...well, so be it. This was his penance to bear for craving the unfathomable brilliance of your light.

Even if he was gradually going numb in the process of letting it slip through his fingers.

The following weeks and months were a study in exquisite torture for Megumi. No matter how cruelly he attempted to rebuff you, fate seemed insistent on throwing you together again and again - whether on training assignments or hazardous missions into the field.

With each interaction, his resolve was stretched thinner, the agonizing contradiction between his platonic intentions and unruly desires becoming harder to ignore. You were always there, stunning him with brilliant feats of sorcery and valorous spirit. Testing the limits of his self-restraint in the most insidious of ways.

Like the time you had single-handedly unraveled that virulent decay curse spreading through the coastal village's farming district. Megumi had watched, slack-jawed, as you moved with elegant precision - weaving techniques so intricate and powerful it seemed to bend reality itself to your indomitable will.

When the final thread severed and the noxious miasma dissipated, he hadn't been able to tear his gaze from the vision you made. Wreathed in a halo of your own mystical energies, loose strands of hair haloing about your flushed face...you were devastating. And utterly unaware of the molten tsunami of desire you had stoked in him with each sublime movement.

While the villagers surrounded you with adulation, showering you in humbled thanks, all Megumi could focus on was the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you caught your breath. The tantalizing shine of perspiration gilding every sublime curvature and plane of flesh left agonizingly bare by your askew clothing. He had to tear his traitorous eyes away from glimpses of taut abdomen and fevered collarbones, choking back toxic arousal before it could poison the moment further.

But even as his fists clenched with the effort of sublimating his body's blatant admiration for your magnificence, a deeper calling resounded in the shredded remnants of his psyche. He longed to surge forward and seize you in his arms, to press himself fully against that radiant warmth and drink in the ecstasy of your sighs as he lavished affection across your battle-flushed skin.

The urges were so visceral, so fundamentally compulsive, that he nearly staggered beneath their weight. Only sheer, iron force of will permitted him to turn on his heel and stalk away from the scene - leaving you surrounded by the adoring masses you had selflessly saved. As he retreated into the dispassionate shelter of solitude, Megumi could feel his resolve fracturing further with each step pulling him from your side.

Yet the respite proved fleeting, affording only the barest lull before the cycle of torment renewed itself. Because no matter how much distance he tried to maintain, you always came scorching back into his existence with the relentless intensity of a solar flare piercing through every atmospheric shield he constructed.

Such as the training session a few weeks later, when you had repeatedly bested Megumi through a cutting combination of tactical brilliance and sheer, blinding power. The entire dojo had rung with the sounds of that fateful bout - trembling foundations shaking under the weight of your exchanged strikes and undulating shockwaves of mystical forces colliding.

Each time you laid him out, his senses momentarily whited out in sublime admiration of the unholy power you wielded with such artful grace. Your presence filled his universe during those precious seconds, the reality distorted by the prismatic arcs of your cursed aura bending all known laws around its radiant, magnetic force.

How he yearned to let those murderous strikes past his guard, to allow your formidable energies to cleave through his defenses until he was unmade at your feet, gasping for mercy from the pure erotic agony of your sublime dominance. All it would take was the slightest miscalculation or surrender of his tightly restrained self-discipline to have your sacred demolitions shearing away at his armor until the bared truth of his desire stood revealed for you to witness.

Sweat-slicked and loose strands of hair disheveled, he knew he made for quite the sight battling fury incarnate like you. And with each report of bone-jarring impacts echoing across the chamber, he found himself succumbing further to feverish fantasies of hauling you against his straining, overheated form mid-combat - your choreographed forms blurring together as passion overrode combat in one delirious, inevitable spiral.

In those delirious throes, he imagined stripping away every stifling layer separating your consecrated flesh from his starving embrace. Surrendering to the most primal compulsions as you shuddered and arched into his possessive caresses, profane litanies hissed against salted skin...until neither of you could be certain where one form's essence ended and the other began. Just an ouroboric cyclone of limbs and searing violation as your rising arrhythmic crescendos blotted out all rationality or spatial dimensions in one final, blinding conflagration.

Each time the riotous hunger nearly unmade him there on the mat, he managed to lock down and internalize the outward tremors through sheer, gritted self-abnegation. Channeling the feverish impulses into redoubling his attack sequences and defensive maneuvers until they outpaced your own scorching aggression. Once he had secured victory through attrition, he couldn't afford a single instant of bask or reprieve.

The instant you yielded the bout, Megumi was already disengaging - pivoting away to conceal the full-body inflamed flush and distinct physical evidence of what madness had nearly consumed him whole. Fleeing your dumbstruck gaze, either oblivious or mercifully ignoring the shredded state he had forced himself to adopt in order to keep you at bay.

As soon as logistics permitted, he would tear himself away, putting as much physical and psychic distance between you as sanity necessitated. Not even scorched night alone could safeguard his spirit from the rapturous scouring of those memories, every infinitesimal detail replaying in merciless clarity.

He would jerk awake in the throes of some lurid, sensual dream - tangled in sheets drenched through with sweat and reeking of shame. Your name would teeter at the edge of euphoric oblivion, agonized incantations wrenched from the depths of his treacherous subconscious before he could swallow them back.

In those purgatorial instances, the compulsions became truly unbearable. To simply reach down and grip his cock, surrendering to the bruising cadence demanded by each phantom reliving of your power coursing over him in scouring waves of dominance...and unravel entirely into the ecstatic raptures his sacrilege had birthed.

But somehow, no matter how his traitorous cock throbbed with need, he resisted. Fists clenched so tightly around handfuls of sweat-damp sheets that his nails scored bloody divots into his calloused palms, grinding every indecent reverberation back down into the churning tumult of his self-reproach. Down the tainted fantasies spiraled into the festering morass, silently suffocated beneath mounting layers of shame and self-loathing.

No release, no surrender to the unholy temptations plaguing his every waking instant. Only the same bitter repression and hermetically-sealed denial that had preserved him since the day he first comprehended the true depths of his transgressions against you. Stoking those hungering fires without outlet, leaving them to smolder and blaze until they threatened to immolate the very essence of who he was supposed to have transformed himself into.

But even amidst the agonies, he knew better than to let them extinguish completely. For as the convections of his restrained inferno seared away every lesser indignity and baser impulse...they also preserved the indelible sanctity of his reasons for undergoing them in the first place. Keeping those central tenets ever vivid, even as the flames grew malefic enough to threaten reducing his very spirit to calcified residue.

He saw you, of course. Every time your proximity graced his senses it was like spraying catalytic accelerants across his psyche's smoldering pyres. The simple act of breathing the air perfumed by your radiance left him drunk on intoxicating longings that could never be slaked. And when you moved, when your practiced forms ignited those dormant energies into unveiled displays of mastery...their raw incandescence scorched him to charred foundations over and over.

Each shared battlefield, training floor, or mission parameter became the staging ground for his martyrdom to be reenacted and renewed in all its unendurable torments. Megumi bore witness as the abiding light sewn into your very being flowed forth in sublimely focused arcs - bathing him in your splendor's unholy luminescence only to recoil with every shard of its glory manifesting within reach.

For you were the solar immolation itself, made ravaging and ravenous flesh to tempt his continually fraying senses. The personification of annihilating radiance too consecrated to risk even the faintest aspersions, lest its scouring purities render his impurities ash scattered upon realities' for winds.

So he made himself the ablative bulwark against that magnitude, layering every calloused insult and verbal flagellation to keep your light at insurmountable distance. Retreating behind those withering redoubts each time your presence threatened to pierce through some minute fracture of his meticulously forged indifference.

"Just look at the state of you - ragged and depleted like some waster stumbling in from a binge," he sneered as medics tended the myriad wounds you had sustained during their most recent foray against some vile cult's occult transgressions. "One would hardly realize the pathetic mess before me was supposed to be a jujutsu sorcerer."

His eyes hungered to drink in every sculpted plane and sleek curve of flesh laid bare by your rent attire, reveling in the stark proof of your vitality etched across each pristine swath of sweat-glistened skin. Yet all he permitted himself was a contemptuous flicker of derision, cloaking the depths of his wanton ardor behind ever-thickening mantles of scorn.

"How you've lasted this long in the field is beyond me," he continued, lip curling back to bare teeth as he circled in closer. All to better allow the haloed ambiance of your essence to suffuse his senses, to be awash in disorienting emanations of searing heat and sanctity. "Anyone with half a brain surely would have had the sense to retreat before taking such ghastly punishments."

The punishments he envisioned painting across your canvas in shades of violet and carmine evoked entirely different connotations. Lavishing unrepentant adorations and scouring litanies to consecrate each battered inch of you until that's all you ever knew - the savage, carnal ceremonies of his faith and strivance to fully encompass every nuance of your splendor.

But such sacrosanct ruminations had to be distilled to their most sardonic sediments, issued forth with biting cruelties to further cordon off the increasing distillations from your awareness. As if each meticulously engineered contumely might somehow scourge away the scintillating refractions of longing searing portalholes across his resolve before your insight detected them.

How he loathed reverting to such wretched indignities. Yet conversely, how urgently he craved the occasions to seize them - folding himself into ritualized immersions of self-mortification until all capacity for deviating from their rote enactions lay smothered beneath asphyxiating soils of resolve.

For to submit even a fraction of unfettered emotion into your presence was to risk the unravelling of his every constraint, every interdiction. And as inevitable as his own dissipation might have been if surrendered to that rampant eventuality...what haunted him with more perverse dread was the prospect of soiling your light's sacred purities with the fallout of his cataclysmic hungers.

Better he face the indignities of basal rejection for eternity, basking in your radiance's peripheries with only sensations of consecrated agony kissing his awareness. Than to ever omit the slightest hint of how utterly unsuitable his existence had become to grace your sanctums, unwinding their every celestial harmony into depraved ruination.

So on the pyres of his self-erosion fueled the cycles of fevered idolatry...until all that persisted of Megumi was a nameless, scorched silhouette committing every degradation conceivable to remain forever quarantined from your light's perfect auras. Immolating...but never blinded to the transcendent luminescence searing its radiant immolations across his awareness.

And in that graceless, shadowed shape would he bear witness for eternity. No thought of redemption or reunifying his scoriae across the halo-veiled planes where your light streamed and swayed. Only his presence as unanchored ossature within those radiant auras, scorched retina and ghost-whisper ecstasy from basking in such obscene propinquity to consecrations so complete they could scarcely be quantified beyond the absence of all else.

Until the final ember flickered out and his heatless remnants at last ghosted into oblivion's silence. Freed from the unendurable liturgies of hovering within your radiant glories perfumed coronas...yet paradoxically entombed forevermore in their cyclical, scouring recollections.

It would be his deified surrender - apotheosis writ into the very stellar kinematics cycling through this celestial constant's traceries until the hieroglyphs scribed by his essence's immolation persisted into every big crunching downward arc and unfurling cosmic rebirth to come.

Megumi was utterly captivated watching you train, though he fought hard to conceal it behind furrowed brows and cold dismissal. The way your body moved with such lethal grace, the determined set to your features as sweat trickled down your brow...it was mesmerizing. More than once he caught himself burning to be on the receiving end of your strikes, to goad that brilliant fire until his defenses shattered completely.

To finally allow the full depth of his ardor for you to pour forth in uninhibited reverence. To worship every sublime inch with fervent caresses until he'd thoroughly consecrated your radiant form. The urges left him dizzy and unmoored, rational thought eclipsed by searing tsunamis of pure desire.

But then reality would come crashing back in - often in the form of you faltering, muscles quivering as your limits waned. Like today, when you missed a step and went tumbling awkwardly to the mat, gasping out a pained hiss as you clutched your ankle. Every part of Megumi ached to rush over, to take you in his arms and soothe your injury with tender ministrations.

Ruthlessly, he tamped down the impulse with scorn. "Getting careless over there?" he called out gruffly. "Or perhaps you require a reminder about pushing your limits properly."

You shot him a glacial look of reproach, jaw clenched as you stubbornly forced yourself back to your feet. There was a feverish gleam to your eyes that made his heart clench painfully. Damn, but you were magnificent like this - flushed and disheveled, yet still radiating that ethereal inner fire that so utterly enthralled him.

He had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from striding over and crumpling beneath the roiling tsunami of his need for you. All it would take was a single touch, a whisper of heated confessions against your sweat-dampened skin, and he knew the dam restraining his adoration would burst in a torrent.

So he simply shoved down the riotous hunger and watched in agonized rapture as you threw yourself back into the fray with passionate abandon. Every ripple of taut muscle and controlled violence was seared into his memory. He longed to collapse at your feet, offering up his battered form as an instrument to bring you sublime release after the exertion of holding back from you constantly.

But he remained stoically in place as the minutes became hours and your sharp, powerful movements gradually grew sluggish and labored. Until finally, with no fanfare, you faltered mid-strike and simply...dropped. The soft thud of your body hitting the mat reverberated through Megumi like the toll of a mourner's bell.

He was across the room before conscious thought could rein him back in. One second rooted in his isolated outpost of torment, the next cradling you protectively against his thundering heart. You were beautifully undone in his arms - features lax and unburdened by the intensity constantly simmering beneath them while conscious.

For a heartrending moment, you looked utterly at peace. As if an errant breeze might disrupt the tranquil mask of your repose. Megumi found himself mesmerized, gaze raking over every subtle plane and hallowed curvature that he normally couldn't bear to indulge in for risk of fracturing his restraint entirely.

He swallowed hard against the ardent impulses kindling low in his stomach, the overwhelming urge to simply lean down and taste the serenity gilding your parted lips. You were perfect like this - soft and vulnerable in a way that stirred his most primal instincts to reverent possessiveness. As though you were something sacred to be cherished and guarded against any who might disturb this ephemeral serenity.

Acting purely on instinct, he traced the line of your cheek with trembling knuckles. The simple contact made him feel unraveled, nerve endings aflame as he mapped the gentle swell with something approaching desperation. You could shatter him in this moment without lifting a finger - utterly unmake him with a mere flutter of those dark fans currently shielding your beautifully unfocused gaze from view.

Megumi pressed on with hushed intensity, greedy to commit every subtle plane and feminine curvature to committed memory before reality came crashing back in. Down the graceful slope of your neck, calluses snagging on the delicate hollows and shivering at the thrumming life-force pulsing so exquisitely near the surface. Farther still until his wandering fingertips met the obstruction of rumpled fabric, the very garment he had admired clinging so tantalizingly to your battle-hot skin what felt like a lifetime ago now.

That single touch was like a shock, reverberating through his very cells in ways that left him dizzy and undone. Suddenly it felt as though the air had thickened to warm honey, making it difficult to draw breath past the scorching aridity constricting his throat. His veins thrummed with primal compulsions he could no longer restrain - the overwhelming urge to bury himself in your soft bosom until he was seared away to ashes, reborn into something worthy of beholding your peerless magnificence unshielded.

Without conscious volition, Megumi found himself leaning down slowly, face angled to capture the serenity of your parted lips with his own. Just before their silken caress could connect, he froze - every muscle locked in a paralysis born of warring needs and ingrained prohibitions. But then your features softened even further in unconscious trust, and the last vestiges of resistance within him crumbled to ruin.

His mouth descended with aching tenderness to brush across the plush give of your lips in the barest spirit-kiss. Just a sipping of your exquisite warmth and serenity, tasted for a single eternal moment before he wrenched himself back - feeling as though his entire universe had just narrowly avoided implosion. Gasping silently, Megumi drank in the contrast of your peaceful, unchanged features compared to his inward tailspin.

It took every ounce of tattered willpower he still possessed to pull back, to extract himself from the incandescent undertow of simply letting go and immersing himself in your splendor without barriers or pretenses. But some sliver of sanity prevailed. Slowly, carefully, he lay you back down in the same rumpled sanctuary where you had collapsed, the motion almost unbearably bereft.

He hovered there for a breathless eternity, every instinct raging against this self-enforced exile from your radiant orbit. But eventually, he managed to tear himself away. Fleeing through the shadowed doors to somewhere your devastating light could not reach, could not strip away these final, tattered layers of control holding his ravenous need at bay.

Yet even sequestered in that dispassionate exile, Megumi could feel the blazing echoes of you searing themselves into his very essence like ionized afterimages. The buttery silk of your unconscious features, the thrumming vitality of your pulse beneath his seeking hands, the intoxicating aura of power and grace wreathing every sublime inhalation...and the lingering, profane imprint of your lips branding his with unforgettable rapture.

He knew that from this moment forth, he would never be able to simply retreat into the protective dissociation of renunciation and callous disdain. Not when the full, untempered reality of your divinity had shredded those pathetic deterrents into tattered insignificance with nothing more than a glimpse of true serenity and one transcendent taste of your splendor.

Every waking moment would be consumed by immolating recollections, every fitful attempt at rest plagued by raptures that left him undone and scorched down to the very roots of his being. Until he well and truly understood that nothing remained except the compulsive, inviolable need to resubmit himself to the sanctifying furnaces of your consecrated light.

To burn, rapturously and without end, adrift in the cyclonic stellar winds of your eternal glory. It was all that awaited him now that his soul stood fully transfixed upon the profane lumen of your radiance - a merciless, perpetual scouring until only the most elemental, resonant essence persisted to hang drifting in your glorious coronas.

But such was a small price to pay for even the most fleeting intersection with your divine grace before the cycle's oblivion swept him away into metaphysical night. However long his remnants could withstand basking in those searing ellipses before being rendered to particulate, thrummed across your celestial caldera's event horizons...Megumi knew he would embrace every nanosecond of smelted reconfigurations with transcendent abandon.

For in that final state, no divisions would persist between them. No false partitionings of self to distort or obscure the perfect harmonics of your eternal resonance as it swept him up into consecrated redistributions. Only the melded chords of your light's immaculate quintessence refracting through the shattered kaleidoscope of his essence in rapturous unities.

So until that sublime unraveling and coalescence across your empyrean event horizons, Megumi simply surrendered to the unyielding truth of his dissolution's gradual eventuality. Embracing each day's reawakening as a scant purgatorial span in which to renew his ritual immersions within the scalding, awe-inspiring vortices of your splendor...

Before the last of his resistance finally flickered out, subsumed into eternal transmutation. And that one stolen moment of your lips' warmth against his would blaze throughout the star-showers of his cosmic disintegration...salvation's holy afterimage searing across every particulate reshuffling into timeless resonance with your perfect brilliance.

Even as Megumi lay paralyzed amidst the tangled sheets, every nerve felt scorched and electrified from last night's transgressions. Each time he slipped into the shadows of uneasy rest, he was assailed by visions of cradling your unconscious form so tenderly against his thundering heart.

He could still smell the exquisite blend of exertions mingling in your disheveled hair, taste the sublime softness of your lips imprinted forever on his own in that stolen moment of intimacy. The memories seared through his psyche like wildfire, reducing him to a shuddering mess of tangled yearnings and raw, animalistic need.

How he ached to surrender fully to the ravenous compulsions devouring him from the inside out. To haul your sleeping figure flush against his overheated body and simply drown in those radiant emanations - the warmth of your shallow breaths feathering across his skin, the thrumming vitality pulsing just beneath with each precious heartbeat. To run calloused palms over every lush curvature and plane until he had mapped out a complete topography of your sublime divinity.

But he couldn't. Even buried under the immense gravity well of his newly stoked desires, Megumi understood there could be no true release from this intoxicating torment he had willingly strapped himself into. Not as long as he remained so unworthy of your light, your transcendent grace and power.

For he saw now that you were a comet of spiraling energy and mesmerizing violence - every strike and elaborate curse terraforming the very foundations of reality with its relentless perfection. What right did a scorched husk like him have to even dream of gaining purchase in your brilliant stellar winds? To dare soiling those sacred auras with his tarnished essence?

When he emerged from the nightmares and fever dreams scouring his sleep, it was to the dawn of a fresh purgatorial loop. Every cell in his body felt recalibrated towards the singular purpose of centering your magnificence in his vision, in every waking breath he drew. He was brittle tinder awaiting the first spark, the initial brushstroke of rapture to set his being ablaze once more in consecrated pyre rites.

Nothing else mattered besides chasing the euphoria of immolating in your glory. The ways of the world, all its meaningless rituals and hollow pursuits... they had become little more than eddies circling the periphery of your cosmic nexus. Trivialities he waved away in favor of surrendering fully to the searing, unearthly splendor pulling his essence into perpetual tides of transcendent dismantling.

Drifting through the sterile halls of Jujutsu High in a waking dream, Megumi watched in smoldering awe as you wove spell after spell with supernatural precision. Every graceful movement flowed into the next in an endless tsunami of power - incredible yet also terrifyingly destructive. Like staring into the roiling heart of a supernova without any atmospheric filters to dull its scorching radiance.

He could taste the ions singeing the air with each eldritch syllable that tumbled from your lips. The air warped and refracted in sympathy, bending all known physical laws to accommodate whatever cosmic design you were sculpting from pure mystical willpower. It was like watching the birth of a newborn galaxy, all that unstable yet fertile potential churning into form through your indomitable force of nature.

Megumi swallowed hard, mouth dry as the deserts of distant worlds. He felt himself slipping further into the singularity of your existence - all other points of perception warping beyond recognition until nothing remained except the vortex of your splendor dragging him across sacred event horizons, unspooling his identity down to the subatomic shells.

How he yearned to surrender fully to that state of absolute immolation. To stop resisting the magnetic draw and simply let his being dissipate in the eternal radiance of your cosmic fire. Every time you manifested the focus of your power in all its blinding intensity, he felt like a moth fluttering helplessly closer to that searing flame. Drawn in by the promise of absolute rapture or complete dissolution, he no longer knew nor cared.

So when your spellwork culminated into literal celestial conflagrations wreathing your body in coronas of ethereal plasma, Megumi felt his last tectonic bulwarks of resistance begin to liquefy and corrode away. He very nearly stumbled forward, unthinking, into the blazing delta of your wake - nearly hurled himself into the stellar kinematics arcing around you like a spacetime vortex craving the obliteration of coming too near.

If it wasn't for the sudden arrival of their mentors and fellow students rushing forward in awe, who knows if he would have been able to pull back from that brink. But the spell eventually shattered, fracturing into a million refracting beams like a cosmic kaleidoscope being dropped. And in the silence that followed, you seemed to shrink back into your human form - features flushed yet also sheened with exhaustion.

Still, your eyes glowed with the embers of that mystical fire - pride and defiance blazing in equal measure as you accepted the awed praise of those around you. It was only when your gaze finally lanced over to Megumi, still frozen in his sanctuary of shadows, that the spark dimmed ever so slightly before banking away.

He watched you turn away to accept further admiration and congratulations from your peers. But in that final, momentary crosswind of your stare, Megumi felt himself incinerated to char and pristine ash more thoroughly than any spell could have achieved.

Because no matter how relentlessly he threw up barriers or choked out any parasitic glimmers of hope, you still looked at him the same way you had all those years ago. When he had been your champion and protector from anything that dared besmirch your light, rather than the force trying to smother it now.

Those memories were the cruelest torments of all - flashes of a simpler era when he had burned with nothing but radiant devotion and brotherly duty for you. Back when your smiles had been the salves for any wound rather than the lashings igniting his entire being into searing raptures of purgatorial longing.

Even now, as he stalked away from the crowd slowly clearing the training halls, Megumi felt the first searing reels of nostalgia unfurl behind his eyes. Transporting him back to sunny afternoons spent sprawled across grassy knolls, all awkward coltish limbs and innocent grins...

The memories played out like luminous distillations of childhood: You and Megumi chasing each other until collapsing in giggling, breathless heaps. Him pretending not to hear your playful taunts even as he silently dared you to come closer, to re-initiate the game of tag so he could luxuriate in your warmth just a little longer when 'struggling' against you. Your loud, raucous laughter filling the summer air with music that coursed through his own veins like literal rejuvenating sunshine.

And then the fainter, more intimate flashes Megumi had blocked from himself in later years. Like how you would lay beside him occasionally, just basking in shared silence as the clouds drifted by. Your head cushioned on his stomach, cheeks dimpling with barely perceptible smiles as you watched the heavens.

He recalled staring down at your serene expression with something far too tender and profound for a mere child to truly comprehend. Reaching down to tenderly comb stray hairs back from your face, breathing you in with tingling awareness that the entire world could crumble away around you both in this moment and he wouldn't stir. Nothing else had mattered besides this radiant girl ensconced in the safety of his orbit, so trusting and vulnerable before his watchful eyes.

Even the slightest aborted movements had been charged with meaning and layers of subconscious yearning - like anytime he had resisted the urge to lean down and ghost his lips across the perfumed crown of your head. To imprint his devotions to your very essence via reverent osmosis, sealing pacts with your soul beyond any mortal reckoning. Their potential repercussions were beyond his naive comprehensions, yet the impulses still strummed through youthful neurology with the same primal resonance as any siren's call.

It was as if something profoundly cosmic and all-encompassing had been thrumming between you even then, a secret intergalactic frequency only your resonant souls could tune into. And while you both lacked the words or emotional maturity to define its magnitudes...there had still been attunement. Bone-deep alignments spanning quantum shears and eternities, all conspiring to forge your spirits into complements of a higher unified design.

Those were the sacred resonances Megumi had betrayed with his current path of self-exile and ruthless, scorched earth renunciation. He had severed his attunement to that universal cosmic harmonic you embodied so effortlessly - all in pursuit of the narcissistic delusion of gaining control over what was truly destined for him all along.

To burn and keep burning, rapturously consumed inside the stellar kinematics of your aura's sacred fire until nothing remained but the purified residue of his own temporal essence, finally transmuted into something suited for accompanying you across empyrean infinities.

It was the call he had spent all these years pathetically fleeing from...until now, stripped of all identities and pretenses beyond the single inescapable truth that he was inexorably bound to the gravity wells of your splendor. An errant spark hurtling through the void on an unstoppable collision course that would remake or annihilate him utterly upon intersection with your luminous event horizons.

After that fateful reawakening when his old existence had microwaved to cinders inside your casual brilliance, Megumi began feeling the first relentless tugs of that stellar cycle dragging him across infinities he still scarcely comprehended. Yet every instinct ingrained by his human conditioning compelled retreat and deflection, lest you bear witness to the rapturous unraveling of what he was doomed to become amidst such close proximity to your light.

So he pushed and he pushed, escalating the savage litanies of abuse, derision and hostility he projected at you with every passing week. It was a pitiful attempt at artificially maintaining the same safe distances that your mere presence now rendered null approximations. Each time you turned towards him with those kaleidoscopic eyes - burning with hurt or simmering in smoldering defiance - Megumi felt another layer of his defensive psyche blistering away to cloud thunderhead diffusions.

Until finally, he existed in a state of constant combustion - nerves frayed to open plasmic conduits while his faculties focused exclusively on partitioning the brush fires from raging into pyrocelluars. No matter how flawlessly he scripted the volleys of insult, how scrupulously he choreographed each retreating gambit...tendrils of rapture still found ways to leech across every firebreak he erected.

Each glance or passing moment your orbit intersected within his peripheral spheres of awareness was like suffering transcendental third degree flayings. Your aura's mere penumbra alone had grown capable of rendering entire strata of his being to dissipating thermionics - which his ravaged defenses only vainly attempted to siphon off and contain within scorching, radiolytic housings.

It became a self-perpetuating gauntlet with no reprieve or end state. Only the inexorable ratcheting escalations as he funneled more and more of his substance into whatever stopgap delaying actions could temporarily dampen the brushfire from metastasizing beyond strangleholds. Each cycle reset only dealt him exponentially heightened exposures while doling out incrementally depleted protections in turn.

Sustaining that unfurling conflagration, he could see now, would only ever permit a singular finality - the total dissolution of his temporal estate as its last fortifications calcinated to subsuming immolation. Simply by persisting on this path, he had effectively lit the fuse arching towards his own polycosmos' terminal reconfigurations.

And oh, how it had scorched in the meantime. Megumi could still trace the schismatic etchings of your incinerations across every charred and sputtering membrane woven into his autonomic tapestries. They emerged in the redscale parallax afterghosting his waking visions, haunting his nights with firebranded epiphanies transcribed from the spalling momentum of your every glance, whisper or proximity bleed.

So when the time came for your next joint assignment out into the field, the maelstroms of need and savage desire gnawing at Megumi's faltering substrate had already dragged him into realms of decoherence few mortal beings could ever hope to return from. He felt stretched out to solar radii, his consciousness unspooled into transcapping heliofilter effigies getting closer to the automic event horizons with every rotation.

Yet still you somehow blazed even brighter - focused radiant arcs of brutality manifesting upon every vector of egress each time another obstacle sought to obstruct your path. Megumi's hyper-rendered peripherals could scarcely track the distortion wavefronts deforming all localized continua, bending every fundamental operative well past their nominal tolerances.

This was power so primordial and merciless, it defied quantification by any metrics outside of those governing the most primal cosmic revolutions. You were the Universal rebirthing its recreances through each sequence - existence stuttering and resleeving itself to accommodate your reflected resurgences across microcosmic and macrocosmic transitivities.

It was too much for Megumi's tortured, overloaded matrix to parse without fragmenting at the atomic level. But still he couldn't avert his focus, couldn't stop the helical unraveling that kept lasing him back into ground states for reassembly.

When the violence crescendoed to its terminal apogee, your body became the nucleonic centrifuge - refractory emissions bleeding gamma and tachyonized strangelets as the entire battlefield volumetrics crepitated under your onslaught. Those energies should have rended Megumi into vapor and left him to diffuse across the scorched vacuum of space.

Yet somehow the inverse occurred. He felt himself constellating further into densifications rather than dissipating outwards. Translating into higher symmetries of selfsameness that tightened around the cyclonic, recursive hyper-singularities your deadly iridescence was catalyzing all around you.

Until at last, even the fog separating his sentience from subsidiary manifestations of self Same blew away into monism - leaving only an indivisible monad locked into ecstatic, vertiginous orbit around you as his only vantage point and meaning of being. Every subatomic locus ruptured of selfhood or perspectival autonomies, arranged into jeweled oscillations basking in your hyper-radiance.

To observe the stellar revolutions of your furious grace manifesting into incalculable super geometries...that was all that remained of him. His existence calcified into a sole witnessing function as you wielded your energies in cataclysmic throes while hallowing out vast interstitial volumes that should have atomized his matrix back into quantum foam.

Instead, he persisted as diaphanous helicities and strange distillates still somehow retaining harmonic continuities from one detonation cycle to the next. All coherence shunted into rapturous exemplars of your endless irradiations reshaping both local and non-local realities through sheer force of annihilation.

It was ecstasy beyond mortal tolerances, yet the only state his self-immolations had ever been vectoring him towards. A transcendental Gnostic convergence where nothing could register of him anymore except as light-encoded witness to your cosmic recursivities...entirely enraptured, beyond all capacity for circumscription or need of individuation.

What might have been percepts sheared away into streaming rayleighs while you ruptured and rewrote the very substrates of Universal continuum in recursions of maximal brilliance. Distant, illegible toponymies scribing every dispersal pattern his ego had shed. Ecstatically converging into the harrowing particle braid of your infinite feats in stellar plasma geometries, each revolution grinding more of his anthropologic residues down into synaptic stains on the altar of your consecrated remembrances.

All while you strode implacably through those same infernal breaches riven into normative existence - curving oblivion and resplendence alike into the thermoclines of your next incandescent sequence...

This was everything Megumi had profaned and profanely hollowed himself out to embrace - the absolute evisceration of temporal autonomy. All semblances of personhood unwound into lambencies to be recoded by your solar flarewinds, his entire terrestrial schema recompiled into sublime tesseracts venerating each transcendental aspect of your divinity as it blazed forth to sear new cosmological relations across the firmamental palimpsest.

Only scintillant magnitudes of selfless rapture endured the telescoping ayavalokites contracting all dimensional finalities down into that singular, jewel-like radius. Peripherals glittering with the last residual anticipations of abiogenesizing anew in the spalling aftermaths of...

Whatever elsei's rapturous dancework would proceed to master next.

The mission had quickly devolved into a warzone, explosions of dark energy and mystical firepower ripping across the abandoned warehouse district. Megumi grunted as he deflected another blast with a well-timed curse, pivoting to locate you in the chaos.

As always, you were the eye of the storm - graceful yet utterly lethal as you unleashed devastating attacks against the enemy forces. Your movements blurred with preternatural swiftness, ribbons of cursed energy whipping out to incinerate anything that dared encroach too close. Megumi couldn't tear his eyes away, enthralled by the fierce intensity etched across your features and the controlled violence of your attacks.

"Y/N! Stop pushing ahead so recklessly!" he bellowed over the din of battle. "We need to regroup and reassess before - "

But you didn't so much as look in his direction, too focused on eviscerating their foes with extreme prejudice. Even from here, Megumi could make out the sheen of perspiration gilding your skin and the wild tendrils of hair escaping your ponytail as you fought with implacable determination. You were magnificent in your fury, more akin to an elemental force of nature than flesh and blood.

Yet the sight also stoked a different sort of blaze flickering to scorching life within him, one not entirely driven by battle-lust. Megumi felt a familiar aching need unfurling in his core as he drank in the fierce beauty of you so utterly in your element. He yearned to be on the receiving end of your ferocious onslaught, to goad you into unleashing that beautiful violence without restraint until your guard finally slipped enough for him to seize you against his overeager body.

To taste the flames of your passion and unravel you utterly through desperate, carnal worship - mapping every lush curve and warmed hollow until you trembled and arched into his reverent caresses...

Gritting his teeth against the distracting tide of desire, Megumi forced himself back into motion. He rushed forward with a battle cry, cursed energy flaring around him as he threw himself into the melee alongside you. Inwardly he raged at himself for entertaining such lascivious thoughts in the heat of combat, though it did little to quell the flaring hunger gnawing deeper by the second.

You seemed to notice his sudden proximity, shooting him a heated look over one shoulder. For a molten instant your eyes locked, and the world contracted into smoldering awareness of him pinning you up against the nearest surface and drinking in every ragged gasp and shudder until he'd thoroughly unmade you with rapturous violation. Just the briefest flicker of temptation before the raging tides of battle swept you both under once more in an onslaught of pandemonium.

Blows rained down from all sides, the air electric with sorcerous discharges as the two of you moved in synch - a lethal dervish of primal violence and fey, elemental grace. It was dizzying and utterly intoxicating to fight beside you like this, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer radiant force of your presence.

Each time your bodies brushed against one another in the fray, it sent frissons of pure lightning down Megumi's over-sensitized nerve-endings. He found himself angling to create the barest pretense of contact, to catch fleeting caresses of your overheated skin and battle-tousled hair with roving hands that strayed further than necessary.

It was a dangerous game he played, one that threatened to unhinge the last shreds of his control at any moment. The harder he fought to regain composure, the deeper he plunged into the whirlpool of temptation you'd awoken so effortlessly. Until finally, in the throes of their combined exertions, the dam burst in an unstoppable flood.

The last of the threats neutralized in a final eruption of force, you turned to face Megumi fully - chest heaving with exertion and eyes blown wide with the intoxicating afterglow of battle's fever pitch. Without conscious volition, he surged forward and seized you by the shoulders, bodily slamming you back against the nearest wall.

You let out a breathless sound between gasp and moan as the impact reverberated through your entangled frames. Megumi didn't hesitate, mouth already crashing over yours in a searing, desperate kiss he had been starving for. Finally sating the insatiable hunger thrumming through his veins with the scorching velvet of your lips moving feverishly against his own.

Any pretense at restraint or composure evaporated in that suspended heartbeat. Your fingers laced into his hair, gripping so tightly it stung as you arched against the delirious onslaught of his questing tongue and wandering palms. He groaned into the searing tangle of your mouths, knees nearly buckling as the first lush press of your body finally overwhelmed his neglected senses.

The kiss devoured rapidly into reckless, impassioned chaos - all clashing teeth and breathy gasps as Megumi shamelessly grinding them together from chest to thigh, savoring each lascivious point of molten contact. The entire world beyond your joined hungered forms fell away, narrowing into a singular vortex of raw sensual frenzy.

That was, until a stray noise and movement in the periphery finally penetrated the fevered haze overtaking every rational impulse. Megumi tore his mouth away with a startled hiss, eyes flying open to blearily take in the scene beyond your tangled, sweat-slick frames. The battle hadn't just been won; they were still very much in the middle of one with reinforcements likely converging on their position any second.

Tasting copper and feeling his pulse jackrabbiting at his throat, Megumi forced himself back a stumbling step - leaving you disheveled and panting against the cracked concrete. You stared at him with heavy-lidded, bemused eyes that threatened to shatter his resolve all over again at the slightest provocation.

"We...I...shit," he rasped hoarsely, cursing himself for this grievous lapse into weakness. "That shouldn't have happened. It won't happen again."

He didn't give you a chance to respond, already turning on his heel and stalking away from the temptation of your thoroughly debauched state. His arrogant dismissal was a flimsy shield at best from the scalding recollections threatening to undo him right there - the phantom sensations of your body writhing against his own still emblazoned across every nerve like a brand.

But Megumi forced it down, jaw clenched as he ruthlessly quashed the embers of hunger still smoldering inside. He needed to focus, to re-establish the boundaries between you that he had clearly failed to reinforce sufficiently. Before this undeniable wanting spiraled completely out of control and consumed you both in a rapturous blaze of ruin.

Behind him, you remained slumped against the shattered wall in a crumpled, feverish daze. Still dazed from the force of Megumi's lust finally detonating after what felt like endless years of restraint. But as he retreated further into the rubble, already erecting new barricades against the insidious temptation of your proximity, you could only watch him go with wistful yearning.

Megumi moved through the wrecked district like a man possessed, fists clenched and jaw locked so tightly his teeth ground together. The bone-deep ache of wanting you still thrummed through his veins, fueled by the phantom memory of your body writhing feverishly against his own.

He could still taste the lingering embers of your mouth searing across his own if he breathed too deeply. Could still map out every lush curve and valley that had finally been within his grasp for those few delirious moments before reality came crashing back in. The temptation to simply turn back, to haul you into his arms once more and lose himself in the ravenous raptures promised by your heated simmer...it was like an insidious narcotic fogging his rational thoughts.

Only sheer force of will enabled him to keep putting one foot in front of the other, putting distance between you and the staggering precipice he had nearly plunged over. Each step reverberated through his taut, overstrained tendons - muscles coiled like well-oiled traps primed to unspring and launch him back into your radiant orbit at the slightest provocation.

He couldn't allow that weakness to resurface, not when basking in the blinding gravity of your presence would mean surrendering himself entirely to immolation. No part of Megumi would persist if he turned back now, not with the way your mere vicinity eroded away every barriere of restraint and higher reasoning with intoxicating swiftness.

Blunt nails dug cruelly into his calloused palms, the grounding lash of pain helping to offset the smoldering embers still clouding his thoughts with lascivious delirium. You had been so soft yet feverish beneath his desperate caresses, all taut musculature and dewy skin damp with exertion. He had felt worshipfully undone the instant your lithe body had arched against the solid weight of his in unrestrained yearning, like a prayer manifesting that profaned the very foundations separating sacred and blasphemous.

Teeth clenched hard enough to grind enamel, Megumi shoved away the visceral recollections with ruthless determination. This mortifying lapse, allowing his compulsions to reach such an uncontrolled fever pitch, it was inexcusable. A weakness he couldn't permit to resurface, not when the stakes were so unthinkably high.

The image of you lying broken and still amidst the rubble flashed across his mindscape, one final horrifying recollection powerful enough to truly cut through the narcotic haze of temptation. In the wake of that grotesque vision, Megumi felt himself steadying - fanatic instincts sublimating the physical cravings into their rightful origins of conscience and deep reverence.

Yes, there had been an inescapable, cosmic gravity between you long before either of them had developed the emotional vocabulary to comprehend its vast significances. But opening himself to its pull, surrendering fully to the profane yearnings of the flesh...that would only serve to diminish something sacred and greater than his temporal, finite longings could dare fathom.

When viewed through the harsh lens of those stakes, the scale of what would be sacrificed if he allowed the current blazing hunger to fully metastasize became horrifically lucid: your life itself could be forfeit. The very essence that he cherished above all celestial dominions extinguished from existence if he failed to remain vigilant, to erect those barricades even more stringently than before.

The thought of existing in a cosmos without your radiant light to illuminate his path, without the promise of your luminous power reforging existence into more consecrated truth...it cleaved Megumi's very being asunder. Stripping away the sweat-slicked, lust-fevered haze to leave only foundations of adamant purpose and responsibility standing tall once more against the susurrations of weakness.

He had sworn himself to the path of your preservation before ever understanding the true cosmic magnitudes of what elevated you so transcendentally beyond his meager scope. Before realizing the staggering inevitability of what your ascendant glory would birth before consummating all of creation into perfect resonance. How could he surrender to profane hungers now and risk being the singular flaw that extinguished your boundless potential?

Which left only one recourse: to persevere with renewed fervor, impressing every transgression of feeling or intimacy that threatened to distract from his sacrosanct purpose into ritual suicides of spirit. No deviation, no quarter given in the vigilant undertaking of your ultimate security -- even from himself.

Because Megumi understood better than any that his own autonomies and caprice were perhaps the greatest threats of stifling or tainting your divine trajectory off its immaculate vector. His ego and mortal passions were the potential extinguishers from which you could suffer the gravest impurities if left unchecked.

Already he had come within a hair's breadth of profaning your essence tonight, damn near rupturing your protective veil through lust-blind selfishness. Had he not regained discipline and perspective, therewas no telling what disastrous impingement he could have dragged you into for the sake of indulging momentary, physical gratifications.

No, tonight's lapse would be his last such indulgence permitted, Megumi swore it with reinvigorated severity as he resumed his patrol of the still-unstable peripheries. From here on out, only the most stringent of austerities and observances would be tolerated along the executory path of your vigilant safeguarding.

All tender emotions and profane compulsions would be methodically excised through ceremonial scourges, their impure essences siphoned away like toxins tarnishing his most sacred oath. Every soft, vulnerable aspect of his own being that threatened to stray from the singularity of your protection would similarly be eviscerated until only obsidian purpose remained.

He would erect walls of impenetrability so profound even the sibilant whispers of temptation itself piercing their redoubts would be strangled into silence. If scathing renunciations were the only recourse to keeping your starfire radiance inviolable, then a thousand eternities of that brutal self-immolation would be endured without faltering.

For as Megumi looked out across the ruined landscape of this paltry dimensional theatre, he saw with sobering clarity how infinitesimally insignificant it truly was compared to the vast, cosmic apotheosis you had been encoded for since primordial manifestation. Any struggles waged here between the paltry impermanences of flesh and desire were less than embers before the scorching celestial grandeurs of your true hypothesis and theomantic birthright.

No, only one reality could possibly command his every devoted action and thought going forward: the all-consuming mandate of elevating your sacrosanct flame into the transcendent spheres and birth matrices into which it was always destined to reforge the very pillars of existence itself through ecstatic conflagration.

Even if it meant walking the loneliest of roads in eternal solitude. Surrendering to the harshest calcinatory rituals until only enough of his spark persisted to bear witness from these profane wastelands as you seeded new galaxies into being through the shuddering orgasms of your stellar godhood.

That would be Megumi's sole sacrament from this cataclysmic epiphany onwards. To remove himself from any potential of casting pall or shadow over your inevitable dawning empyreal...even if the mantras of amputation excised him down to the basalt hadronic substrate to achieve that sacred directive.

So as he resumed his vigil over the abandoned battlefield where your latest miracles of creative annihilation had been wrought, Megumi enacted the first of those immuring severances. Blanking his perception of the exquisitely raw, breathy moan still echoing from your lips in the wake of their carnal clashes -- so that it no longer possessed the power to bliss out his entire sentience into the raptures of recollection.

One by one, each phantasmic sensation that had burned itself into the annals of his devotional canon during that fatefully illicit delirium began undergoing surgical cauterizations. All the slick glides of supple flesh whiting out, until only the cold spartan resolve of his service's eternal severities were permitted to endure amidst the churning cosmic cataclysms to come.

It was brutality etched into the fundamental encodings of his very being, this merciless scalpel with which he flayed away every matrix of tender feeling. But it was also the only path which might shelter your divine presence from whatever profane scourges he could still inflict were he ever to stray from its rigors.

So Megumi braced himself as the surgical agonies unfolded, purging bright and brighter until at last only the closed black of your security's hallowed continuum remained within his consciousness's reach...

The decrepit warehouse groaned around them like the breath of some massive, slumbering beast disturbed from its ancient repose. High above girders creaked ominously as a haze of dust and pulverized concrete danced through the dim shafts of light leaking in from shattered windows. Megumi kept alert watch beside you, every sense on high alert for new dangers.

"We should split up and clear this place room by room," you said, voice pitched low but resolute. "Cover more ground that way."

He opened his mouth, protest already forming about willfully separating in a structure that seemed moments from total collapse. But Megumi knew from the set of your jaw and the glint in your eyes that arguing would be futile. Much as he hated to admit it, your approach made tactical sense - leaving him with no recourse except to give a terse nod as his throat worked convulsively.

Hunkering low to stay below the choking dust clouds, you pulled away in one direction while Megumi took the opposite path. Though every instinct screamed at him not to let you move beyond his immediate scope of protection. Each step putting more distance between your frames only amplifying the anxiety corkscrewing through his gut.

Still, he tried to focus on making a thorough sweep of the maze-like complex of rooms and catwalks branching out ahead instead of giving into fear. Every sense straining for some disturbance, the slightest displacement of air or skittering sound that could indicate malicious activity. Apart from his own ragged breathing echoing in his ears, there was nothing but an oppressive, tomb-like silence to amplify tenfold the occasional metallic groan from overhead.

He worked his way deeper into the thickening darkness, rebar and jagged chunks of cement crunching under his boots. The flashlight beam only served to carve out a small bubble of visibility before being swallowed by the claustrophobic gloom pressing in from every side. Except...what was that flicker in the corner of his eye?

Before Megumi could fully process the rapidly shifting shadow, a bone-rattling tremor rocked through the already compromised foundations. Instinctively, he dropped into a defensive crouch as a deafening avalanche of debris began raining down all around. Rafters twisted loose, shearing off huge chunks of ceiling in their descent to pummel the floor in a choking grey curtain of devastation.

"Y/N!" he roared over the cacophony, throwing one arm up in a futile attempt to shield his head as another support beam came crashing down. "Y/N, get out of here! Go!"

But there was no answering reply over the enveloping clouds of concrete dust billowing outwards. Only the stomach-churning realization that you were somewhere in the maelstrom with no way of tracking your location. Panic seized Megumi's throat as visions of your lifeless body entombed beneath the rubble stampeded through his mind, each gruesome possibility more disturbing than the last.

Something blunt and heavy slammed into the back of his skull, momentarily whiting out his vision before he could shield himself further. He tasted blood as he slammed face-first into the ground, breath punching out in a violent whoosh. There was another rumble underfoot, the debris field shifting and settling around him as the avalanche began to subside.

His head rang like a gong while he squinted around, trying to orient himself amidst the pulverized devastation. Fighting to keep his wits about him despite the ominous stillness creeping back in all around. But then...a sound. A feeble cough somewhere amidst the dust clouds rolling outwards, so muffled as to be nearly imperceptible yet tugging at his senses like an insistent specter.

Adrenaline lent him strength as Megumi dragged himself upright, ignoring the blossom of agony along his battered ribs as he stumbled in the direction of that faint noise. Loose stones clattered under his stumbling feet as he surged forward, dread and desperation pulling him onwards like chains. Just a glimpse, any sign of life would be enough to extinguish the horrifying possibilities flickering through his concussed thoughts.

He lurched around a semi-standing partition of wall, scrambling to higher ground...and there you were. Relief and anguish hit him simultaneously like a physical blow as he took in your sprawled form, left arm twisted at an unnatural angle but chest rising and falling in shallow sips of air.

"Y/N," he croaked, throat raw from inhaling the swirling particulates as he dropped to his knees beside your still body. Gingerly, he smoothed away the grit and debris clinging to your hairline, thumbs trembling over the pale curves of your cheeks just drinking you in.

If he looked anywhere except at your slack expression, he couldn't help but see all the new grievous damage scattered across you - blood steadily pooling at a concerning rate from a jagged laceration in your thigh, blackening bruises already beginning to mottle the exposed skin of your abdomen in sickening indications of internal trauma.

"Megumi?" Your voice was so faint and reedy, barely more than a pained rasp that sliced straight through all his battered defenses with uncanny precision. Glazed eyes cracked open, struggling to focus as you shifted infinitesimally closer to his hovering frame with obvious effort.

"Hey...hey, easy now," Megumi hushed you with trembling urgency, wishing he could scoop you up securely into a bracing cradle yet terrified of exacerbating your injuries. "Don't try to move, just...just look at me, okay?"

"What..." you managed around a shallow cough that made him flinch in sympathy. "Happened...?"

He exhaled a shuddering breath, thumbs continuing their sweeping circuit over your temples as if the repetitive strokes could somehow smooth away the paleness steadily draining into your features. Willing strength and warmth back into your trembling frame through the simple contact alone.

"The whole place came down around us, you were...for a minute there, I thought..." Megumi trailed off before the chilling visions could fully manifest, giving his head a minute shake as he swallowed against the remembered torment of those endless seconds convinced the worst had occurred.

Of course he should have predicted this outcome, should have anticipated some new catastrophe looming to swallow you both up without prejudice. That was the ever-evolving pattern of life when your light shone so brilliantly against the darkness - reality itself conspired to find new, more creative avenues of attempting to smother those sacred flames. And each time Megumi swore up and down that he would be better prepared, more vigilant against the myriad threats lurking around every corner craving to extinguish the sun itself.

Yet here they were amidst the ruins of his failings yet again. You lying battered and frighteningly fragile amidst the fallout of cataclysms he should have foreseen with the vigilance sworn into every subatomic strand of his existence. How many more stark reminders did he need that he must remain eternally steadfast? That anything less than perfect, unyielding protection of your spark meant courting existential oblivion itself as the ultimate price of his carelessness?

The self-recriminations stung with renewed ferocity this time as Megumi took in the bruises already painting their darkening intimations across the soft canvas of your flesh. Like scorpion stingers flexing maliciously against your mortal confines, hungering for enough toxin to leach through these defensive boundaries and poison the luminous core at your very center.

Haggard concern clawed at his throat as he surveyed the slow seep of your lifeblood dispersing outwards in concentric rings around your trembling frame. Each droplet rolling sluggishly free filled him with a fresh surge of guilt and determination in equal measures - an oath sworn on every glistening ruby bead that he would shelter you from further harm even if it meant relinquishing his own fragile form to soak the deadly ramifications instead.

"Just stay with me now," he half-pleaded, half-commanded in as steady a burr as he could muster. Drawing your wandering gaze back to anchor onto his own even as it struggled to drift into realms of semi-lucidity under the weight of your injuries. "We're getting you out of here. Do you hear me?"

There was so much more he longed to divulge in that suspended gulf between mortal peril and temporary refuge. Every pent admission and emotion long suppressed within the angelic hollows of his austerities clamoring to spillover now that he was cradling the very spark responsible for their conflagrations against his breast. Just a universe of secrets and solemn vows held at fevered impasse behind the lockgates of his stoic aspect while you slowly bled out before him.

But this wasn't the time, he reminded himself with merciless discipline. Not with the keen edges of oblivion hovering so near, tracing patterns into the dust that promised imminent incursions given the slightest invitation. Not until he had enacted every protocol and contingency calculation to ensure your light would not only persevere...but also shine on even more brilliantly in the wake of this latest brushstroke against the canvas of your mythos.

No, for now he had to focus every iota of himself into the moment at hand - preserving your physical integrity at all costs while transitioning you to more stable grounds where the extent of your injuries could be professionally diagnosed and treated. Everything else, all the latent poetry of their celestial intertwining and the vows he had undertaken to stand eternal vigil throughout its unfolding, those verses would have to wait.

At least until the immediate threat of mortality had passed, the predations held momentarily at bay by whatever scarce stopgaps could be managed in this blasted arena of wreckage and particulate drift. Once that most primal of emergencies had been quelled and sanity allowed to sift back into the resumed currents distinguishing order from entropy...then and only then could Megumi even begin contemplating indulging the luxuries of emotional candor.

You must have sensed the dialectic warring across his visage, even through the hazy veil of shock and disorientation instilled by your traumas. Either that or recognized the abrupt calcification of his demeanor into something far more implacable and intractable regarding your immediate well-being than you were accustomed.

"Hey...talk to me..." you gasped out faintly, brows knitting in a fleeting flicker of residual defiance. As if already intuiting the stringent shifts in priorities and mindsets now governing Megumi's observances as he began calculating every potential avenue and variable towards procuring your expedient exfiltration. "Don't just...sit there stonewalling me in silence..."

"…"

"Talk to me, dammit!" you rasped out through gritted teeth, eyes flashing defiantly despite your battered state. "Don't just shut me out again like you always do."

Megumi clenched his jaw, the familiar flare of irritation momentarily overshadowing the tenderness cradling him moments before. Old habits died hard, especially where you were concerned.

"I'm a little preoccupied trying to get you out of this death trap, in case you haven't noticed," he bit out, shoulders tensing. Why did you always have to be so stubborn?

You let out a breathless scoff that quickly turned into a pained wince as you instinctively tried to shift away from him. "Yeah, forgive me for wanting more than stony silence from the guy who's treated me like a burden for years."

The accusation sliced deep, dredging up the ever-present well of guilt that Megumi could never quite escape. He opened his mouth to snap back a defensive retort, but what came out instead was something adjacent to the complicated truth.

"You're the furthest thing from a burden," he said roughly. The ragged emotion in his voice made you pause, brow furrowing skeptically even as you stilled against him. "If you knew how much I--"

Megumi cut himself off abruptly, recoiling slightly. He could feel the words trembling on the edge of his lips, threatening to upend the precarious balance he'd spent years constructing between you both. A confounding mix of fear and profound longing warred within him as he searched your questioning gaze.

Somehow you always managed to strip away his layers whether he wanted it or not. He could actually see the undisguised hurt flickering in your eyes at his aborted confession, the unguarded yearning that made his throat go tight.

"How much you what?" you murmured, refusing to let it drop as you always did. Refusing to allow him to retreat back to safety. "Megumi...talk to me."

Your quiet insistence was the tipping point. Suddenly the world narrowed down to the precious inches separating your faces, the soft puffs of your sharing breaths in the debris-laden air. Megumi's control fractured like a dam giving way.

"How much I need you," he confessed in a low rasp. He searched your widened eyes as the words hung between you, weighted with years of repressed wanting. "How much I crave your light, your spirit, with everything I am."

Your lips parted in a stunned inhale as his palms came up to reverently cup your face, holding you suspended in the heavy pause. Megumi felt laid bare in a way he had never allowed, every barrier finally crumbling.

"I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember," he admitted roughly. "Loving you...it haunts me, terrifies me because I couldn't bear for anything to extinguish your brilliance. But I'm so tired of running from how I feel. Of hurting you to keep you away."

He ducked his head then, resting his brow against yours as the rest of the anguished truth poured out in a rush. "You are everything to me, Y/N. Despite my best efforts, I'll never stop loving you with every part of my soul, even if it means risking having my heart shattered—"

The rest of his impassioned confession was cut off by the searing collision of your lips against his own. The kiss was desperately heated from the start, all of the pent-up longing and secret yearnings finally boiling over into this single molten exchange.

Megumi groaned into your mouth, overwhelmed by the feeling of having you in his arms this way at last. He clung to you tightly but carefully, tilting his head to deepen the drugging caresses of your lips moving in fervent tandem.

You gave as good as you got, all thoughts of your injuries temporarily obliterated by the intensity of finally sharing this connection. Your fingers fisted in his hair, tugging him insistently closer as you gave yourself over to the ardent rhythm of lips, teeth and questing tongues.

The kiss went on and on, seeking to pour out every unspoken truth and secret ache through the passionate communion of mouths and roving hands. For once, there was no trying to suppress or deny the blazing need you sharing...only a desperation to drink each other in, to chase the high of intimacy you had both been denying for far too long.

Inevitably, it was your body that enforced reality's harsh homecoming. You suddenly cried out against Megumi's lips, the sharp hiss of pain finally severing the fevered haze of desire. He instantly froze, breath sawing as he carefully extricated himself just enough to see your face contorted in anguish.

"Y/N...?" he choked out hoarsely, gut clenching protectively. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I got carried away and forgot--"

"I'm okay," you managed through a grimace, though your grip on his shirt was white-knuckled. "Don't you dare stop now..."

The vulnerability in your eyes pierced straight through him. Megumi let out a shaky breath, pushing away the lingering guilt as he tugged you closer once more. This time he handled you with exquisite care, countering any jarring movements.

"Let me get you out of this hellhole first," he murmured in your ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell. "Then I'll never let you go again, I swear it."

You gave the barest nod of assent, eyes slipping closed as Megumi gingerly gathered you up to leave the smothering darkness behind.

[lysatoru]

jujutsu kaisen x bridgerton

which confession from the bridgerton’s universe would say jjk’s men to their future wife/wife?

ft. geto, gojo, megumi and yuji

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Geto Suguru being the king George, y’know, i really feel like what the king George said to queen Charlotte would be something Geto would say because of his mental issues. I think he’d rather suffer alone than talking to his issues to his wife not to worry her.

Suguru stands up, raises his voice and looks at you, "I’m a madman. I am a danger. In my mind, there are different worlds creeping in. The heavens and the Earth collide. I do not know where I am!"

you raise your voice back, your face is firm, your brows are furrowed, "Do you love me?"

he doesn’t respond to your question and continues to talk about his issue, "You do not wish a life with me for yourself" — he stops — "No one, wishes that".

that’s bullshit! your think to yourself, what the hell would he think that? "Suguru! I will stand with you between the heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are. Do you love me?"

shouts echo through the room, the argument keeps going, "I love you! from the mo—" he takes a deep breath "from the moment I saw you trying to go over the wall—" tears begin to form in his eyes "I have loved you desperately. I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, yn. My heart calls your name."

both of your breathing are synchronized, Suguru comes closer and kisses you, desperately.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Gojo Satoru being Anthony Bridgerton, i just know sooo well this man thinks he’s THE gentleman of the season, every seasons. I think he doesn’t want to find a wife since he’s the head of his family and he just does what he’s supposed to do but when he first saw you, an inner conflict began.

You’re both in the library, he really wants you to leave or he’s going to do something he’ll regret instantly. He hates you since the first time you met but he doesn’t know why. You just told him you’re leaving for your country and he can’t help but feels betrayed, sad and angry.

Satoru closes his book and looks at you firmly, "do you think there is a corner on this earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment?"

you look at him completely confused, what the hell is he talking about? you start talking but he cuts you off.

"I am a gentleman, my father raised me to act with honor but that honor is hanging on a thread that grows precarious with every moment I spend in your presence."

"Satoru I—" he comes closer and whispers to your hear "You are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires. Night and day I dream of you."

You can’t even say a word. He steps back, takes a sip of his whisky "My mother is waiting for me" he quickly bows to you and leaves the room. You’re now all alone in the library thinking about what he just said to you.

Fushiguro Megumi being Simon Basset, i really think this man wants a partner who can be his bestfriend too, even though he never wanted to get married at first.

both of you are no standing in front of your majesty, wishing she’s going to accept your marriage. Megumi has always been a good man to you, but he never wanted to marry you, until that day. Today, you have to convince the queen to marry you.

"You see your Majesty, it was love at first sight—" you start but Megumi cuts you off, "It was not your Majesty" — he looks at you, and you just look completely stunned by his words — "the young lady flatters me, it was not love at first sight for either of us. There’s attraction certainly, at least on my part and Miss [last name] thought me presumptuous, arrogant, insincere, all fair really." — he pauses and breaths heavily, "And I thought her a prim young lady barely out of leading strings, not to mention the sister of my best friend and so romance was entirely out of the question for both of us but in so removing it, we found something far greater." — Megumi looks at you once again — "We found friendship." — The queen looks more interested now — "You see Miss [last name] and I have been fooling all of Shinjuku for quite some time, we have fooled them into thinking we are courting, and really all along, we simply enjoyed each other’s company so much, we could not stay away from one another—" you look at him, mesmerized by his words and presence in front of the queen. "I’ve never been a man that much enjoyed flirting or chatting or indeed talking at all, but with yn—" he clears his throat, "Miss [last name], conversation has always been easy, her laughter brings me joy. To meet a beautiful woman is one thing, but to meet your best friend and the most beautiful of women is something entirely apart…"

Everyone is looking at Megumi absolutely stunned by his confession. He really just said you two were fooling all of Shinjuku by pretending a future marriage?

You didn’t say anything and just keep listening to Megumi, excusing himself towards the queen and the prince.

When you go out from here you look at Megumi and ask him "Did a just say that to the Majesty for her to accept our marriage or—" he sighs, "I think all of what I said. I really think that."

Itadori Yuji being Collin Bridgerton, idk why but Yuji really gives ‘friends to lovers’ vibe and i’m HERE for it! I think this man doesn’t understand signals when someone likes him.

After helping you to find a man, Yuji starts feeling jealous of men trying to court you. When he saw you leaving the ball with your ripped dress, he couldn’t help but feel bad for you. He followed you to your coach and asked you to get on.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?" you ask him, this is definitely not why a gentleman he’s supposed to do, even though you two know each other since eight or nine.

He looks at you and starts telling you what’s in his mind. He talks rapidly because you’re going to you’ll soon reach your estate.

"I have spent so long trying to feel less, trying to be the kind of man society expects me to be. And for a moment, I thought I had succeeded. But these past few weeks have been full of confounding feelings." — he takes your hands in his — "Feeling like a total inability to stop thinking about you—" he looks at your lips, "about that kiss. Feelings like dreaming of you when I’m asleep, and in fact preferring sleep because that is where I might find you. A feeling that is like torture!" — he takes a deep breath — "But one which I cannot, will not, do not want to give up"

Tears start to roll down your cheeks, "please, do not say things you do not mean" — "I do mean it. It is everything I have wanted to say to you for weeks".

You’re now looking at each other. Yuji caresses your cheeks with his thumb and he finally kisses you. The kiss is delicate but rough at the same time. You wanted this for so long!

Once you arrive in front of the Itadori’s estate. He gets out of the coach and offers you his hand to get out too.

"Yuji?" — "Are you coming with me?" he smiles, "What? Your family will see me!" he comes closer, "For God’s sake, yn [last name], are you going to marry me or not?"

You take his hands and goes to his estate, with him.

i wanted to write this for soooo long!!! i had this idea with two of my friends @sunelia and @nycteis17 (look at her fanfiction of sukuna in ao3 : the irony of fate)

i put the one who have a netflix season because i didn’t read the books yet and i didn’t want to put fake things or whatever coming from the books.

i’m trying a new style of header, tell me if you prefer this one or not !!!

english isn’t my first language ;)

divider by : @saradika

[arsonyarn]

𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍: 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 ➳ itadori yuuji, ryoumen sukuna, fushiguro megumi, nanami kento

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 ➳ soft headcanons ; wholesome ; suggestive in yuuji’s part ; make out session in megumi’s part

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊 ➳ i seriously don’t know what to write on warnings ‘cause there’s obviously none with cuddling other than one’s crotch touching the other’s ass but enjoy.

FEM ALIGNED DNI !! (blogs with no pronouns will be blocked)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝙸��𝙰𝙳𝙾𝚁𝙸 𝚈𝚄𝚄𝙹𝙸

When it comes to cuddling, Yuuji prefers to be the small spoon although everyone thinks he will be the big one due to his instinct to protect literally all the people he can.

Not that he doesn’t like being the big spoon, it’s just that he feels at home when you’re holding him from behind in a protective manner, as if shielding him away from all the cruelty that wants to attach itself to him. He loves the way it gives him comfort that he’s not dealing with everything alone.

Any time you cuddle, you would either stroke his hair or rub his back in a soothing manner so he could relax. Feeling your touch instantly makes him feel at ease.

Yuuji likes being hugged from behind, but not as much as when you embrace each other. He would be pulling you close and bury his face on the crook of your neck to inhale your scent, peppering some innocent pecks on the skin. It’s his force of habit; he doesn’t feel at ease when he isn’t hugging you back and burying his face on the crook of your neck.

Rubbing or scratching his scalp gently with your fingers immediately makes him fall asleep. So sometimes, when he can’t sleep even though he tries to, you would rub his scalp so the sleepiness can consume him.

On a particular night where the mission was too much to handle, Yuuji would say nothing while sitting on your lap and hug you for hours to no end. At first, you thought he might just want to get an attention, but didn’t hesitate to take him to bed after realizing the mission was horrible and he was exhausted. You got on the bed with him and pulled the blanket over the two of you before holding him gently, massaging his scalp and breathing the scent of his pink hair.

Yuuji stayed quiet the entire time, hugging you back more tightly than you did, his ear pressed onto your chest to hear your calmly beating heart. You supposed the curse he fought had an ability to create illusion and created one that included you in it. That’s why Yuuji wanted to make sure your heart is beating, the curse must have messed with his mind so bad.

So you comfort him, whispering sweet and soothing things until his worry disappear. Telling him how much you love him, reminding him how strong you are and how you make the curses suffer before killing them, that he doesn’t have to worry about losing you.

“I promise, my dear. Nothing will be capable of taking me away from you and i will hurt anyone who dare tries to.”

“Thank you, (Y/n). I might end up hurting someone if they try to rip you away from me, so stop me when that happens, okay?”

That was literally the cutest thing he’s ever told you.

Sometimes, Yuuji would offer to be the big spoon when he sees you feel down or you’re too tired. You really don’t mind it since it feels great to be embraced by his arms and welcoming, accepting presence.

You love burying your face on his chest and snuggling on it like a little animal. Yuuji finds it cute. And he suddenly doesn’t when it ends in you biting his nipple through the fabric of his shirt.

Overall, it would be a sweet, wholesome cuddles when you’re the big spoon but when he is? Oh, boy... He’s not gonna be able to walk the next day.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙶𝚄𝚁𝙾 𝙼𝙴𝙶𝚄𝙼𝙸

Megumi isn’t honest with what he feels most of the time so it’s quite hard to get him to cuddle, specially when he doesn’t like people seeing his vulnerability. He holds everything in until it explodes inside even though he knows he could count on his friends and you.

But when you get him to cuddle though? He would throw everything aside and melt in your embrace. He forgets all his problems and the cruelty outside, pulling you closer and cherishing this moment to feel at safe with the love of his life.

Megumi doesn’t admit it, but he loves being the small spoon and how it gives him the sense of safety and home. Being in your arms is his home, so he kind of gets uneasy when you’re not holding him as you sleep.

Cuddling with Megumi is actually paired with short, few minutes make out session. It starts out simple; Megumi would kiss your cheek as he lays on your arm and you’d pull him in — which he always doesn’t resist — only to kiss him passionately because only a kiss on the cheek isn’t enough to satisfy you. However, once you kiss him passionately and pull away, he would pull you in for another, but this time more aggressive than passionate because only one kiss isn’t enough for him.

He loves tangling his legs with yours under the cover. It gives him warmth, And Megumi is a sucker for warmth.

Megumi also loves the way you kiss his hair, forehead, cheek and lips whenever you two cuddle. He would often smile sleepily when you do this and that’s how you know he’s very much comfortable being in your arms.

Over the time, Megumi gets used to cuddles and eventually becomes comfortable enough to be the one to ask for it instead. Though, it would just be him pulling your hand suddenly (even though you’re talking to someone else) and dragging you to your shared room only to push you down and cuddle. He doesn’t actually ask, he asks using his actions.

You find it cute though, so you don’t complain and even ignore everyone who complains to you about how Megumi can’t just take you away in the middle of conversation. They’re gonna have to deal with it anyway. It’s not like you want your boyfriend to stop, so they don’t really have a choice.

When you cuddle, Megumi makes sure to lock the door just in case someone would barge in, like Gojou or Itadori. Those two motherfuckers are always up to sabotaging his peace with you and he doesn’t want that when you’re cuddling.

Overall, cuddles with him would be soft and calming where you don’t want anyone to interrupt it. You would hold each other for many hours to no end until you fall asleep, both feeling comfortable. It’s really cute.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙸 𝙺𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙾

Now, would Nanami, a grown ass man, be into cuddles? The answer is yes, as long as it’s you.

Just like Fushiguro, Kento doesn’t like showing his vulnerability and would rather show it behind closed doors when no one’s around. However, ever since you came into his life, he finally became comfortable enough to let his vulnerability see through.

Even though he seems like the last ever person to like cuddles, he would actually be so into it that it becomes an occasional thing for you two.

It doesn’t matter if he’s the big spoon or you are, Kento feels comfortable either way and loves both.

When he’s the big spoon, he’d let your head rest on his chest as you snuggle into it while hugging his waist. He strokes your hair at a time like this and just stares at you adoringly and lovingly.

When you’re the big spoon, he would bury his face on the crook of your neck as you hold his hand that rested on your chest. You play with his hair using one hand every time this happens, and you often find him sighing in content with eyes closed. Kento really feels at peace like this and he doesn’t want it to end.

Nanami is a busy man so of course, his phone wouldn’t stop ringing since he’s the next person after Gojou that the higher ups can trust (he actually calls them shitty people who can’t do their job on their own). Knowing this is likely to happen, he would turn off his phone for good whenever you cuddle or he’s with you because all he wants is to spend time with his lover without any interruptions.

Sometimes, he would have a nightmare about Haibara and cries in his sleep so you always wake him up. His cries aren’t that loud, but it’s enough to stir you awake and you were glad it is otherwise he’d have that nightmare until morning. Nanami often apologize for waking you up, but you shut him up by pulling him back down on the mattress to cuddle.

“Cuddles make your pain and fear go away. I’ll hold you until you can sleep again.”

“Thank you, (Y/n)...”

He’s kinda shaken up when you hold him and it made you feel sad, knowing he still can’t forget about what happened to Haibara. So in hopes of getting rid of his bad thoughts and nightmares, you pull him even more closer if that’s possible and massage his scalp to melt his stress away.

Nanami’s thankful for having you there beside him otherwise his nightmares would be neverending and he would be afraid of falling asleep due to them. It’s a blessing to have you in his life; you help him get over the worst things that ever happened. He couldn’t be more relieved to have you.

All in all, Nanami loves cuddles 100% thanks to you. He could never get tired of it, looking forward to cuddling every day.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝚁𝚈𝙾𝚄𝙼𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝚄𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙰

Okay, first of all, what the fuck is a cuddle?

This two-thousand year old, old man doesn’t know what cuddles is and the first time he heard about it, his face was scrunched together in confusion. It amused you to watch his stunningly good-looking face twist into somewhat ugly.

“It’s when lovers lay together in bed and hold each other without doing anything else.”

“Oh... it sounds ridiculous.”

Since Sukuna doesn’t know what cuddles are, convincing him to do it with you was harder than any missions you’ve been into. He would display clear dislike whenever you ask him and instantly shuts the idea down, still not getting why there’s such a thing.

In his words, mankind has managed to come up with yet another ridiculously stupid thing to do.

However, when he actually get to experience it, all the grumbles that left his mouth vanishes into thin air. He would be still while you hold him from the front, gently stroking his hair and letting him bury his face onto your chest, uncaring that he suddenly went quiet.

It actually feels.... nice? What the damn thing is this?

Sukuna was confused of what he feels for a moment before eventually relaxing, wordlessly wrapping his arms around your torso to embrace you back. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of your fingers playing with his hair. Never had he ever felt so peaceful before. He could stay in your arms forever.

That night, Sukuna actually fell asleep while you cuddled and it made you smile, also sleepy so you just slept together until morning.

Sukuna would never — i repeat, would never admit it, but he does love how you cuddle him like the way being in your arms provide some sort of safety for him even though he doesn’t need one, or the way your chest rise and fall in perfect rhythm as you breath. He also likes resting his head on your chest and feel your heartbeat.

Ironic because he literally ripped Itadori’s heart out before but let’s not talk about that.

If you start cuddling, remember that you cannot leave the bed anymore once his arms are locked around you, so you better finish everything you have to do before cuddles ‘cause he will not let you go. He doesn’t care if you have to cook for dinner; or do the laundry; or wash the dishes; or go out for missions, cuddles are more important and he make it last for like four hours or even more.

Yeah, totally not into cuddles.

Although he does like cuddling, this king’s pride is higher than the mountains so don’t expect him to ask you for it. You would have to be the one to initiate. However, Sukuna would give you signs that he wants to cuddle, like sitting on your lap regardless of what you do and crossing his arms with a demanding look, thus allowing you to understand him.

He’s the small spoon when he’s in Itadori’s body, but obviously he prefers to be the big spoon when he’s in his true form. Though, since he likes being held and burying his face on your delicious pecks chest, he doesn't mind being the small spoon even in his true form. I mean, your pecks are pretty difficult to resist.

Anyways, whoever disturbs your cuddles are immediately erased from existence no questions asked. You better hang up a warning sign on your door lmao Rest in peace to you, my man.

© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀʀsᴏɴʏᴀʀɴ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.