#but i fw it heavy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

y2kuromi · 30 days

Text

⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗨𝗡𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: you thought you’d never see satoru again, but those eyes are unmistakable

contents: sfw. angst to fluff. canon divergent, jjk 261 spoilers. my version of gojo coming back. est rel. they’re married & reader is pregnant. conflict. mentions of blood and injury. profanities. second and third person pov

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

shoko never cried. it was as immutable as hubble’s constant. not once — in the thirteen years you’d known her — had a tear fallen from her eyes. at most her brows would furrow and her pearly pink lips would quiver but she never cried.

she swore her lungs were too damaged from smoking and her eyes were too dry to sustain such ministrations, incapable of overflowing with bountiful water. but she was silent now and through your misted gaze you could see the tears in her dark brown eyes glisten like crystals as she choked back sobs. you could see the needle in her hands shaking as she gazed hopelessly at satoru’s body.

your hand is interlinked with his, and it’s so cold and lifeless in your grasp that you feel a fresh set of tears prickling your eyelids. his once bright blue eyes are pointed towards the heavens. devoted to the wispy clouds and pearly gates in a twisted prayer. a prayer to be free of the burden of being the strongest. a prayer to finally be human.

it’s selfish to press your lips to his hand and offer a mantra of pleas for him to come back — to hope the light returns to his infinitely blue eyes and his voice rings out as clear as day. teasing you for caring so much about him — but you do it anyway. you hold his heavy hand in yours and allow your thumb to graze the veins traversing his hand.

“please come back” the words sound feeble, and so weak as they fall from your trembling lips onto deaf ears “i can’t do this without you”

you couldn’t imagine what life would be like without satoru. there would be no more sunshine. no more meaning.

you were sure the universe would cease to exist. the days would blur into months, then years and it would all mean nothing if you could no longer feel the warmth of his love. the warmth of his lips against yours and his burning gaze fixed on you. not the heavens, just you.

“it doesn’t matter if you lost, i love you all the same” you whispered, “we both do”

it’s supernatural, the way you love him so wholly when your heart is broken beyond repair — the chambers are withered to a non-functioning pulp, the valves rendered immobile, and the tender muscle undeniably numb.

it hurts to breathe when satoru isn’t. when his eyes are out of focus and he’s frozen in time. it hurts but you allow your eyes to shift to the pool of blood on the operating table. shoko’s gloves are coated thickly with stains of red as she stitches meticulously. strong, neat crosses that bind what’s left of him together.

“sho” your voice comes out raspy, unabashedly raw from the consistency of the tears flowing from your eyes “is he going to be okay?” it made no sense to ask such a question, when you could see his corpse in-front of you. but none of this made sense.

he was supposed to come home to you.

“i’m trying my best” shoko said softly, wiping profusely at her heavy-lidded eyes with her free hand. “i want to bring him back. for you, for everyone, but i have to be honest, it’s not looking good”

“is there anything i can do to help?” you make a weak attempt to control your breathing. to still the ache in your heart, “supernova.. has this ability renewable energy. ‘toru called it a defibrillator on steroids but i’ve only used it twice”

“did it work?” shoko asked, rubbing her cheek nervously and smearing a sheer layer of scarlet blood on her chin. you shook your head. it had worked the first time you used it, but the it didn't work the second. tsumiki didn’t wake up.

“it's unreliable..” your throat felt immensely dry, and you swallowed desperately “but i want to try. i have to.”

“it might work with my reverse cursed technique” she murmured, “and with utahime amplifying it, it’s worth a shot”

your grip on satoru’s hand tightened. you felt the tingle of cursed energy spread through your fingers as they became shrouded in warm, orange light.

it felt foreign, to use your cursed technique after so many years of letting it simmer — a slowly dying ember — in your soul. you would dig up old wounds, and bear new ones if it meant having your husband back

the door creaked open and you couldn't bring yourself to peer and see who it was. you could hear three pairs of footsteps running into each other in quick succession.

“how’s it going shoko? okkotsu’s ready to take over go—” mei-mei asks, her voice trails off as her sharp brown eyes fall on you “oh (y/n) you’re here” her bottom lip is caught between her teeth as she runs a hand through her blue-grey hair

“i told you she was arriving soon” utahime says through gritted teeth. positively seething as her footsteps slow to a stop in-front of you “i’m really sorry (y/n), i wish things turned out different”

“i’ll say” mei-mei murmurs, leaning against the door frame “the live broadcast ratings have plummeted seriously, everyone wanted to see him go toe-to-to with the king of curses and win”

you blinked. once. twice. before rage slithered through your veins like a serpent. your blood boiled, bubbling precariously and you were sure you were going to explode.

“you were broadcasting this?” it’s inconceivable to you. the extent of which she didn't see satoru as a person, but a god.

the god of wealth and the antithesis of weakness. the god who had to pay her to keep her as an allied sorcerer. the god that meant nothing to her but strength and money. “are you fucking serious? you wanted to profit off my husband risking his life”

“it was a good idea if i do say so myself” she muses, as she glances at her phone. “but considering the outcome i'd assume you want some of my earnings? that can be arranged”

your vision was clouded with an anger so strong you were sure you would short-circuit. your sensory neurones couldn’t receive the impulse of someone being so cruel and heartless.

you were blissfully unaware you were advancing towards mei-mei until utahime placed a calming hand on your shoulder. her brown eyes were sad and she shook her head fervently “don’t. it’s not worth it”

“if she can’t handle knowing this how will she cope with the plan for okkotsu” mei-mei frowns, “she shouldn’t be here, she’s not a sorcerer anymore”

“and you would know, because sorcerers run off to malaysia and sell all their assets while their peers fight for their lives” you scoffed sarcastically, “if it came down to it you wouldn’t lift a finger to help satoru if there wasn’t money involved but i would. i would die for him—”

“you didn’t. you quit and look where he is now”

“mei-mei try to have some respect you’re talking to his wife” ijichi finally snapped, shooting her a well-meaning glare, “you can’t seriously be this tactless”

“his body wouldn’t have been claimed so easily without ui ui’s assistance. she should be thanking me” mei-mei argued, folding her arms over her chest

it took a sheer amount of willpower to regain your composure and reposition yourself on the stool beside the operating table instead of firing off a stable star at her.

“what’s happening with yuuta?” you asked, peering at utahime through your tear-filled eyes. you felt your heart sinking further into the bottomless abyss of your grief as she averted her gaze. her hands found the scarlet fabric of her hakama pants and she wrung the cloth nervously

“he said he was going to tell you but i knew he wouldn’t” her lips curved into a deep-set frown. she pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled softly. “ seeing him like this can’t be good for you or the baby” your hand fell to your stomach instinctively.

you could still feel his hands on the taut skin. you could still feel his fingertips trailing over the curved bump and hear him cooing to your baby — absolutely convinced it only moved when he spoke to it. satoru was prepared to give your baby the childhood he never got to have. the childhood you could only make together.

you couldn’t do it alone. you knew the baby would be the spitting image of its father. with little ivory tufts of hair and baby blue eyes that would rival the sky on a clear summer’s day. your baby would be beautiful. it was inevitable, even in death satoru didn’t fail to take your breath away.

you wanted to hate him, for leaving you again but you couldn’t. all you could do was hope he would defy all the odds and make his way home to you.

“it doesn’t matter. what’s happening with yuuta?” your eyes were pleading, it was torture being kept in the dark. you needed to know everything because ignorance wasn’t bliss. it was hell. you knew the gnawing curiosity and desperation would destroy whatever was left of your already shattered heart “hime, please tell me i need to know”

“i want to tell you" she gulped, "i can’t, it’ll be too much for you to bear. i can't have that on my conscience—”

“i’ll tell her” shoko said softly, “it’s the least i can do now that everything's gone to shit”

your eyes widened at how defeated she sounded. her voice was worn, as if she'd fought a million battles and lost each one. she had. you knew more than anyone how she felt. haibara, suguru, nanami, and now satoru.

“we’ll give you some privacy” utahime said, squeezing your shoulder lightly. it’s a gesture that seems to say a lot more than the sadness etched onto her face. it’s a gesture that says she cares.

the silence that follows as mei-mei, ijichi and utahime trail out of the makeshift infirmary is deafening. a silence filled with a magnitude of feelings and unspoken words.

“there’s no easy way to say this,” shoko inhaled sharply, “okkotsu copied kenjaku’s technique…and he’s going to take over satoru’s body to help yuuji finish this once and for all”

you didn't know whether to cry or laugh, the sound that escaped your lungs was a cruel combination of both.

“no” you said firmly, as if the singular world had the power to render the universe, fate and time itself motionless, “you can’t do that to him. i won’t let you.”

“please believe me when i say that we don’t want this any more than you do” her voice is subdued. the softest you've ever heard it. yet it does nothing to soothe your aching heart “but it’s the only way”

“there has to be another way” you cried, “he spent his entire life being used as a tool. i can't let him be used even in his death. satoru deserves so much more than that. how could you even be okay with this shoko? do you not care?”

you knew she did, in the murky depths of your shipwrecked heart and the wooden splinters you had for ribs, you knew shoko cared about satoru. none of this made a slither of sense.

“i’m not okay with this” tears brimmed at her waterline and she began crying again, cosmic beads trailing down her flushed cheeks as she looked at you helplessly, “but he said it was fine. he said he doesn’t care what happens to his corpse”

she doesn't believe the words for a second, even as they fall from her lips and fill the space between you. but she had to. the guilt would eat her alive if she didn't.

“he didn’t have a choice. no one has ever given him a choice” your eyes fell to satoru's unmoving body. you were positive a part of you was dying. a part of you was shrivelling up completely and this was the final blow. a part of you was dead.

“i can’t bring him back (y/n) i’ve tried everything” she said dejectedly, fumbling around for her lighter and setting a cigarette aflame, “i feel so useless, i would give up everything to bring him back to you but i can’t”

“i know” you said. it killed you to admit it. it felt like you were betraying satoru and everything he stood for. "what's going to happen to him?"

it would be fine, it was for a good cause right? once all of this was over satoru could finally be at peace—

“yuuta either dies after his five minutes granted by rika's manifestation are up or he lives on in satoru’s body” she muttered. you felt bile rise in your throat. you were going to be sick

“i can't allow that” you said shakily, “i can barely breathe without him.. but if i have to see okkotsu in his body.. shoko" your vision ran blurry and it felt like your throat was closing up

"he’s everything to me. i can’t live with that. i can't see his body alive and have my heart know it's not him. what about the baby? my baby is going to grow up without a father”

the realisation hit you like a splash of cold water. the picture perfect family you and satoru had just started to build came crumbling down in seconds, drowning in the uncharted waters of a future without him.

“i’ll be with you every step of the way” shoko promised, “ it won't be the same i know, but i’ll be right by your side when you give birth and i’ll be there with you until the day i die.”

she felt it was the least she could do after everything. after she couldn't save satoru. it would be hard and you would hate every second of it, "nothing will ever be the same without satoru"

your words seemed to be the final nail in his coffin. it was concluded. you would inevitably learn to live without him. you would inevitably learn to do the impossible.

“he wouldn’t want you to live the rest of your life being miserable” shoko sniffed, “he wouldn’t even want to see you cry. he loved you so much, it was sickening"

you withered noticeably, shoulders and morale deflating as you caught a glimpse of the hopeless look in her eyes. she really had given up.

and so had you. you'd wanted desperately to fight till the end, to cling onto the slim chance of bringing satoru back, but you couldn’t do it alone. you couldn’t face the monster alone. satoru was right about one thing, love truly was the most twisted curse of all.

“he told me he’d come back” you said quietly, a mere whisper amidst your heavy breathing and the sound of your choked sobs, “he promised”

you cupped his cheek in your palm once more. his skin was still cool to the touch and the pale grey undertones beneath it broke your heart beyond measure. you could barely make out his face through your tear-filled eyes. nor could you grasp the prospect of never seeing him look at you again.

you’d never see him gaze at you as if you’d single-handedly hung the stars in the night sky and crotched each slither of grass into the earthy soil again. you’d never have the pleasure of watching his beautiful eyes adjust to the morning sun again.

you wouldn’t have the pleasure of watching him cradle your child, watching him blow raspberries and nuzzle into your baby’s neck. you wouldn’t have the pleasure of watching him search for your traits he loved so much in the baby that would bind you together for infinity. and you had to find the strength to be okay with that.

you brushed back the limp white strands on his forehead and placed a desperate kiss onto satoru’s exposed skin. it sickened you to feel him completely still beneath your touch, unresponsive to your lips pressed against his temples.

you smothered muffled ‘i love yous’ to the expanse of his face. trailing kisses from his forehead to his cold lips. a last ditch effort to will him alive. to will his eyes to turn away from the heavens and look at you.

he does. in a moment that feels infinite, a flash of light beams in his eyes

you blink. once. twice. absolutely sure you were imagining the way his long eyelashes fluttered like a dove soaring from the cloying clutches of the ashes of death. absolutely sure you were imagining the pinkish hue returning to his porcelain skin. and his brows twitching as he regained what was left of his consciousness.

until you see the bright blue eyes you’d loved religiously, devotedly, for as long as you could remember fade from a dull blue into a beautiful mellowed grey-blue

it felt like the world stood still, the thumping of your heart reconstructing itself slowly, meticulously drowned out the ticking of the wall clock, the dripping of the intravenous fluids, and shoko’s breathless inhales of smoke.

“‘toru?” it feels surreal — the hand cupping your face, the thumb smoothing across your tear-stained cheeks, and the smile tugging at satoru’s lips. it feels like a dream, the hazy romantic grey eyes that drink you in. as if you’re made of every drop in the deep blue oceans that covered the earth’s crust. but the unadulterated love in his eyes is unmistakable. “shoko, he’s alive”

shoko rushes to your side and knocks over her stool in the process. it feels as though the heavens opened up and dropped you a lifeline. as if an immortal being heard your pleas and instead of casting away a god, cast a mere mortal, a human.

without the six eyes that had haunted him from conception. without the six eyes that made him the strongest. without the six eyes that took him away from you.

the heavens took the strongest away from you, and in return gave you satoru.

“how?” shoko spluttered, “i tried everything under the sun. how the hell did you come back by yourself, you vermin?”

a smile as bright as the sun itself is etched onto his face, and the dimples you loved to press kisses to are more than visible beneath the fluorescent lights. satoru mustered up the strength to pull you into his arms.

he was half the man he used to be, yet he felt so complete.

“binding vow” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to the bone of your wrist, “it was a long shot but it worked, you’re looking at the new and improved satoru”

“the binding vow?” shoko queried, “i thought you gave up on that when you agreed to let okkotsu use your body” she propped her hand under her chin and looked at him sceptically.

"the heart wants what it wants" he shrugged sheepishly, "i thought it would be fine giving up part of the six eyes, turns out i needed to give up everything."

"are you okay with that?" you asked. he was more than okay with it. he would give up everything if it meant it could be with you. he nodded.

he didn't need the six eyes to see that you loved him. he didn't need to be the strongest, when he could be satoru with you

"don't worry about me sweets, i'll live" he said softly "besides nothing feels as good as coming back to you"

"nothing feels as good as having you come back to me" you murmured, allowing his hands to find repose on the small of your back. you buried your face in his chest, the tell-tale signs of tears soaking into his tight black shirt.

"would've been kinda funny if okkotsu took over my body" he said slyly, "you would've hated me"

"i hate you" you groaned, pushing yourself off his worn body, "i really hate you satoru gojo. so much more than you know"

"i know baby, i know" he laughed, lacing his fingers through yours and pressing a bittersweet kiss to your knuckles, "i love you too"

“how could you even agree to that?” you pried your hand from his grip and pointed an accusatory finger at him as you clambered off the operating table, “without so much as telling me ‘toru really?”

“‘s too soon to be mad at me sweets” he pouted, voice syrupy. too syrupy. for someone who had just risen from the dead, “i wanted to tell you. i should’ve told you. forgive me please”

satoru attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, and fails in quick succession earning an exasperated sigh from both you and shoko. you can't truly bring yourself to remain mad at him. not when he'd sacrificed the sole thing that shaped his existence to come back

“stay put you idiot” shoko snapped, “i have to make sure everything’s in order” she stubbed out her cigarette in a petri dish before slipping on a new pair of gloves.

with the naked eye satoru appeared the same —save for his newly grey eyes— but she was concerned for his wellbeing beyond that. he’d pushed his brain beyond his capabilities during his fight against ryomen sukuna.

satoru cracked an insufferable grin as he ran his left hand through his hair. the slashed scars on it are equally as beautiful as the scars toji left on him. he's equally as beautiful as the day you met him.

“sho you look like death” he quipped, “you sure you’re not the one who needs a check up? ”

“funny” she deadpanned, a tight lipped smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “you’ve been back for less than five minutes and you’re already riling me up”

"hah? don't act like you didn't miss me" he chuckled, "you've been crying haven't you? i knew you cared about me”

"please shut him up" shoko groaned, imploring you with her tired brown eyes. "or distract him while i run the necessary tests. considering the damage dealt by sukuna he should be on bed rest for a few weeks"

"mm i could do with a vacation" he grinned, "where do you feel like going sweets?" it felt like tempting fate to have such casual discussions with satoru when he had been gone mere minutes ago.

and you'd felt the weight of the universe and gravity crushing the embers of your soul — but you would always indulge him. it was your constant, forever unchanging, as immutable as the speed of light

"miguel said we'd like zanzibar" you said thoughtfully, plopping down on your stool as shoko pressed the diaphragm of her stethoscope to his chest, "what about your students?"

"they've got it from here" he hummed. he had the familiar glint of pride that flickered in his grey-blue eyes when he thought of his students. they would carry on his legacy, he was sure of it

they could be strong together.