Lucyh95
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They are all tired, running on adrenaline, and something too close to desperation as the 24th looms closer. Not Satoru, though. Not him. Because he is the strongest—a stronghold everyone around him depends on.
“It’s okay, you know. To be worried,” Shoko says.
“I’m not. I’m fine.” Satoru's throat is a little dry, an ache settling behind his left eye.
“Not for yourself, no, I know.”
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“Gojo,” Shoko says. Oh. Right. She’s there too. It’s her office, after all. It’s the first thing that has come out of her mouth since he showed up with Suguru in his arms, blood crusted on the front of his uniform, a hurt in his chest that has no physical wound.
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Megumi can’t sleep. That in itself isn’t a new thing. Even as a young child, he distinctly remembers the episodes of insomnia that left his eyes wide open, thoughts swirling endlessly as he gazed upwards. As always, the dark ceiling of his room stared back at him, shadows moving restlessly with every breath he took.
His sleeplessness isn’t a new thing, per se, and yet... yet this is different.
It’s the empty spaces in his life, the bare room next to his own—the bedroom back at his apartment left empty—the hole in his chest that feels a bit too much like grief.
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Far too often, Yuta hates the way his body feels. Like it’s not his own—like it belongs to someone else entirely.
He feels out of sorts, one step away from stumbling and plunging into something unknown and formless yet frighteningly real.
It’s the blood in his mouth. Hollow Purple at his fingertips. And grief, grief, grief.
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It starts with his mother, pale and hollow and barely breathing. It continues with Farlan and Isabel, mud and bloodstained grass, Erwin, and a pledge.
Recent series
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Where Itadori got cursed and turned into a child
Because fate wants to see him getting loved, and his friends are stubborn enough to stay anyway.
or:
Yuji becomes a kid, memories get mixed, and he gains a lot more attention than he’s used to.Series
- Part 1 of JJK Works - Not connected
Bookmarked by Lucyh95
23 Apr 2026
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Picture two things:
1. Fate is not over-rideable. You are unable to escape your destiny, nothing is in your hands.
2. Loss is always going to be a constant, but yours especially.
(Suguru doesn't defect, and it changes everything. But December 24th, 2017 still finds him dead.)
[Both chapters can be read as one-shots]
Bookmarked by Lucyh95
21 Apr 2026
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The grumble drew a genuine laugh from Gojo. He continued to smile as he felt the squeeze on his fingers, a warmth taking over his chest. Family. What nonsense. He and Megumi were nothing to each other.
And yet, that seemed to be the only word capable of describing them.
Bookmarked by Lucyh95
21 Apr 2026
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“Hey, Megumi! Good to see you looking alive and well. Get it? See you.”
Gojo-sensei looks no different. If anything, he’s reminiscent of the way he looked during Megumi’s childhood, with his eyes swathed in bandages. But it’s impossible to miss the absence of his sparking cursed energy, the force that flooded every room he set foot in.
If Megumi knows anything about the man who he’s been following around for the better part of his life, it’s that he's Gojo Satoru, the Strongest before he is anything else. It’s one of the things Megumi hates the most about him.
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Sukuna doesn’t manage to kill Gojo Satoru, but he does manage to rip out his Six Eyes.
Bookmarked by Lucyh95
19 Apr 2026
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Summary
Wolfwood ignores his gripe. “You’ve been moving weird all day. What happened? Are you hiding an injury? Spill it,” he adds, when Vash starts to speak. Vash shuts his mouth with a telltale click, then lets out a huff, giving Wolfwood a particularly grumpy look as he turns around and begins the tedious process of unbuttoning his duster. Rather than continue to push, Wolfwood folds his arms across his chest and waits. Taps his foot, even. He’s fine with being obnoxious about this, so long as he gets results. Vash very rarely gives unless you needle him a little. Lucky that Wolfwood’s so good at needling.
Finally, Vash drops his arms and allows his jacket to slide to the floor. The cause of his discomfort is immediate evident. White feathers have sprung over his exposed back, the length of his non-prosthetic arm, peeking out from the neck of his shirt. They bulge from his pants, his long, strappy boots. As Vash turns to face him again, Wolfwood sees that quills are even peeking out on his cheeks, unfurling before his very eyes as Vash gives him this incredibly miserable wet cat look, folding his arms across his stomach.
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Wolfwood helps Vash alleviate a little feather-related discomfort.
Bookmarked by Lucyh95
18 Apr 2026