summary: Yuuji never had to force color back into his world when he met you. You looked pretty even when you belonged to Earth in black and white.
contents: what the heck did i just write and why am i publishing it, 1.9k wc, immortal yuuji x f!reader, some ??? insane weird writing and idk if thats in a good way, slightly ooc slightly insane yuuji, definitely a darker fic for some reason so watch out corpses and sorta skeletons, ANGST. angst. angsty angst angst, barely makes sense not really proofread but hey why not, this is all so impulsive oh my goodness.
It was always a miracle to people how Yuuji Itadori still smiled brighter than any sun worth flying towards. The air around him seemed to prance in joy, flowers continuing to bloom even if the world never gave any rain. Maybe they grew from the tears Yuuji was unashamed to shed–another miracle to others. How his shell was so closely tied to the grief of his soul that he took the paintbrush himself and painted his emotions–not for the world to see, but because he refused to become blank.
It was nothing but miraculous to others how Yuuji still cared about matters that seemed nothing above trivial. The loneliness of others, if they’ve eaten or are still unable to stomach the horrors of the jujutsu world that never seemed to stop. The darkness in someone’s eyes–understatements of what’s been. A smile on him was a smile to everyone–so he kept smiling. Not to hide, and not to fake. But because it’s what he knew everyone, including himself, needed.
So it was truly a miracle that Yuuji found someone just like that for him. Yuuji was only human–he’d need his own sunshine. His own caffeine in an early morning, the first flower to bloom the spring after winter, and the only star he can see. Yuuji was only human–even if he wore his heart on his sleeve, the world didn’t care. The world of jujutsu around him definitely didn’t.
But you did.
Upon meeting you a little over a year Sukuna was defeated, he’d only seen you as another companion. One much like his peers at Tokyo and Kyoto high. One who’s seen souls ripped apart to shreds in this society, yet still stays and still goes on. One who mirrored his eyes a little too well, and soon–Yuuji started to think the glow in his eyes mirrored the daylight of your own smile.
Maybe he was the moon instead of the sun–because while he could illuminate the night, you were what he would wake up to. You were what allowed him to go out in the world, shine your rays and hold conversations of what he’d dreamed of the night before. Never always pretty, but always there.
But honestly, it barely mattered to him what he was–because upon bathing in your sunlight he only ever wanted to be yours. He wanted to drink you in, have the flames of your essence burn his throat and hold you close every single night. He saw the shine in you that hypnotized him–how your laugh cleared skies and how your eyes shrank the world enough to only fit the two of you. Your touch painted his scars as something unfathomably intimate between the two of you, stars twinkling whenever you did. The mocking of the world barely seemed to exist anymore with you–not when you became his world. Not when you were but enthralling–the only color he wanted his world to be.
So when Yuuji got down on one knee and asked you to be his, body, soul, and mind, and swore to do the same to you, you saying yes with tears in your eyes was the sweetest, most transfixing melody that fell onto his ears. Much more than the wedding bells–but never more than you in that white dress, walking down the aisle.
The night after the wedding was full of heavy lungs but uplifted spirits. Throwing your shoes off and walking into the hotel room that Yuuji had booked for you two that night was what Yuuji wanted for the rest of his life. And Yuuji was never selfish–except for you.
“Weddings are so tiring…” You exhaled the words out, flopping onto the bed despite your gown. Yuuji knew you couldn’t care less, and he took off his jacket as he watched you get comfortable, walking over.
“We have all night to rest.” He throws his jacket somewhere, hovering over you as he cups your cheek and presses the world’s softest kiss onto your lips–they deserve it. And, oh–save him, for the way you snaked your arms around his shoulders he almost melts right then and there.
You bring him closer. “Two nights, technically. Since you booked that.”
His arms are at either side of your head, his eyes never leaving yours even as you start to unbutton his shirt. It’s an action full of care–release. “Anything for my wife.”
You laugh, bringing your hands up to his face and kissing him, feeling him smile against your lips as he holds one of your wrists. “You’re always so selfless, Yuuji.”
He keeps your wrist in the grasp of his hand, fingers circling it gently as if it were sacred, kissing your palm like it was his last time doing so. He closes his eyes, muffling his voice in your hand. “I think I feel a little selfish right now, though.”
A laugh escapes you as you shake your head–all Yuuji can hear and see even in such a fleeting moment. Your thumb brushes the skin of his face, its caresses a feeling Yuuji wishes he could immortalize with his own blood on a canvas. For him, mostly, but to show off to the world how he’s received a magical touch that no one else can. “How so, hm?
He opens his eyes, meeting yours, feeling as if it were the first time he ever did. He doesn’t think he could ever look away from it. He releases your wrist and traces your face–the edges of it. He traces it like his finger was a feather, outlining the parts where the skin and flesh falls over your bones. He wonders, how even the inside of you looks. “Promise me one thing.”
You lean into his touch. He wants to glue you there. “What is it?”
Seconds stretch out as he connects his forehead with yours, one hand running down your bare arm, one hand steady on your face. “Die after me. Outlive me. I don’t want to live a day without you.” He breathes against your lips, his words like a confession.
“That is my one selfish ask.”
When he pulls back and looks into those eyes that sparkle more than any jewel, he can almost hear his heart cracking on a morning without you. Those eyes–he’d blind himself with them just to be with you for the rest of his life.
So when a soft, breathy laughter bubbles up your throat, he places a hand on your waist, tying his heart to yours. “I’ll try my best, then.”
And you seal it with a kiss. You seal the attempt of the promise with bringing him closer and closer, the night belonging to only the two of you. Your souls are tangled into one, unable to tell which is which as both your colors mix. And Yuuji can’t strive for anything more anymore. Yuuji can’t have anything else. He wants to kiss you as gold surrounds you two and binds you two together in a frame.
He can't let go. He won’t let go. Not ever, not in the future–his soul binds with yours. His heart bleeds for you, every exhaling breath carrying your name on it. And time doesn’t exist anymore.
~~~
Time didn’t exist anymore. Not when Yuuji created puddles of raindrops as he entered the place you two shared. If water had a spirit, then why did it mock his? Why did it side with time?
His shoes were soaked from bathing under the pouring rain outside, sloshing around as he kicked them off and walked into the house of nothingness. No sunlight, no jewel, no more blood to shed but his own.
He needed to see the sparkle in your eyes again, and the rain poured louder when he saw the subtle light reflected on the clock that ticked and ticked and ticked. Ticked louder than his breath but joint hands with the volume of the thunderstorm outside. Too damn loud.
It reached the floor. Enough for springs to pop out and the hands to separate, not moving in sync anymore but instead lacking any sort of animation. Glass–iridescent glass–it colored the floor as if it were to erase how monotone it was. Yuuji stepped over it.
Good. Time didn’t exist anymore. Not in this household. Not when Yuuji’s hands were cut up, bleeding as glass dug into his palms and fingers. Numbers were all over the floor, hands discarded–there were no more clocks iaround.
He washes his hands, redness spreading everywhere in the sink and throughout his body. Glass shards clinking nonstop along with the sound of the water running. What was left of his humanity sewed his fingers back onto his hand as blood squeezed out–the same hands that caressed the wrinkles on your face when he lacked his own.
Because all of it was still nothing but a miracle to Yuuji. How you still looked like birds flew to you when you spoke as if every word was a melody. How your hands despite trembling would caress the same soft features he had when he was younger. How your kiss felt the same as it did on your wedding day.
Puddles continued to create as he took further steps, mixing in with the dropping sweat from his forehead as he followed the familiar route to where you were. It was cold–but you could be there.
And you were. Buried, under the hard sheets made of a tree. And Yuuji sat next to you, his wet fabric connecting with that of what’s under him–but oh, you looked so delicate lying there. SO delicate as if you had been taken by the hands of Earth.
He lies himself next to you, makes enough space to cup your face, feeling the hard remains of it. He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, and when he looks into the night of your eyes he hums a soft tune that matches the tempo of the rain. The grinning smile he paints himself with a brush of his finger, the laughter that sways with the raindroplets–it’s all within the palm of his hand–and he meant it. He’d never let you go.
The kiss he places on you feels like blowing into empty space, needing to fill it with something. And when he wraps his arms around you, he becomes as immobile as you as he closes his eyes, letting the hard warmth fill what’s left of his spirit.
“My love…” he whispers. “Who knew you could still be so beautiful centuries later?”
And his whispers are barely any louder than the rain but only loud enough to fall onto your ears. The ears he’d whisper and sing into. The ears he still whispers and sings into. He leans in.
“You truly are…a miracle.” He exhales the words as if he’s admitting them for the first time–like he’s never tasted just how truly you meant the world to him. The breath of his words fall deaf onto Earth. “Everything you did was immaculate.”
But he chuckles softly, his laughter almost turning into a tune–a hymn, a melody. He interlocks his fingers with yours, making sure his wrap around your hand even if yours can’t. Time didn’t have to exist here–only you did. Only he did. Only the intertwining of what was left of your souls did.
“A broken promise isn’t always a lie, my love,” he places one last kiss on your forehead–gentle, fearful. “Maybe you really did just try your best.”
He pulls back, and stares into the nothingness that is your eyes. His voice cracks like the sharpness of the wind, and he brings your palm to his lips. He tastes the combination of you and the truth behind his words.
“And I promise…I am too.”
masterlist.
jjk taglist: open, js lmk :)
@megumismyhusband or @riuvy / @reverd-ck / @falsedivide / @catboygumi
a/n: i'm...back? question mark? with a really questionable writing that is very different from my usual fics? listen it is midnight and i really really wanted to get something out because my gosh do i miss writing and publishing and being active on here and idk how i wrote this but i just did okay. hello yuuji my son ily. HI EVERYONE IM BACK and i will defo try to be back more! my job has been killing me but im slowly getting over it and ill try my best to publish at least 1k word fics often! i could NEVER not write or leave writing and my goodness did i just miss fanfics as a whole reading and writing and AH well im here now LOLOLOL. dont come at me idk what i wrote here its sooooooo impulsive like jeez i looked at my giant shakespeare book and went ah yes. that scene. lets write smth inspired by it. and here we are. thank you SO much for reading i literally love you so much and im getting an immense amount of joy just from publishing on heer once again. LOVE YOU ALL!!!
I genuinely committed to opal like 3 mins ago and blocked instagram and twitter and what the hell it already blocked me four times from Instagram sighhhh I’m so addicted. I didn’t block tumblr tho hi
summary: Life came with loss—that's not unprecedented. But as you let your curiosity take over you once again, you find yourself wanting to explore the legend of a cursed magician in an abandoned circus—even if one of your occult obsessed colleagues was being stupid about it. Oh, but what will you do when you find out it wasn't stupid? And what will you do when you dig deeper, find out way more than you should've, all while staying by the magician's side like he was always supposed to be there?
contents: FIFTH PART, 1.9k wc, talk w magician n all, magic trick yay, sus magician ?!, revealingsomebackstoriessmthsmth, wow ying sucks at tags n contents doesnt she
It comes with surprise and confusion whenever you think about the magician because every time you do, you gravitate towards the circus like it’s a promise made in storytelling. Like flipping through each page would pull you deeper and deeper into whatever the world it was of the magician, and maybe it’s the journalist in you that’s attracted to it. And it’s been a few weeks of meeting this magician already. Maybe it’s just your little secret of the magician. Maybe it’s the magician himself.
“They both died in the river nearby?” He repeats your words as he crouches down to pet Poison, listening intently to your rant.
“Yeah…not too far apart from each other too.” The thought of talking about this makes your legs weak, but it’s weird how easily the magician makes you fall into a space so comfortable, and you should be afraid, and you should be wary of it–but it just feels so natural.
Like it’s always been there. You lean back further into your chair, looking at yourself in the vanity mirror. “It was Detective Sukuna that reported both their bodies. Junpei first, then Megumi’s.”
If he’s reacting, you wouldn’t know. His back is turned to you since he’s petting Poison, but his reply comes rather delayed. “...did he?”
“Mhm. Then the case was closed after two months or so since there were absolutely zero leads on both of them. When we found out…it was the first time I’ve seen his sister that mad.”
The magician grunts softly as he pushes himself up, and as he walks over to the table in the middle you see Poison in almost unconscious bliss. He might be asleep. “His sister?”
“Yeah,” you continue. “She’s the most patient, loving, and charitable person I know. Sometimes she’s too kind, but I admire her. Seeing her that day…it broke me.”
“Hm.” You watch him place his hat down and shuffle a deck of cards in his hands in a way you could never do as he speaks. “He sounds like he would’ve broken seeing it.”
“Oh, he definitely would’ve…” you stare into nothingness in the mirror as you trail off. The emotions you felt seeing Tsumiki breakdown in anger, rage, and injustice that day felt like the world was breaking, and you let the world break. Because Megumi wasn’t able to–it was like you did it in place of him no matter how much it hurt. Because your world broke too.
“You know.” Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the magician walking up behind you in the mirror, placing his hand on your chair. “You have a look in your eyes whenever you talk about him. Your friend’s brother.”
“Huh?” You turn your head from the mirror and look up at him behind you, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”
His eyes are fixed on yours, and there’s no uncertainty or hesitation in them. But knowing once again. “Was he special to you?”
“Oh,” you let out. “Yeah…yeah, he was. Well–” A sorrowful, hollow laugh that felt like it was from the mock of the universe so closely to you leaves your throat. “He was my boyfriend.”
The magician’s eyes look into yours, before he steps back and looks back at the mirror, away from you. “Ah…I’m–sorry to hear that.”
“It’s…it’s okay. I just…” You look back at the mirror, at yourself, his figure behind you. “Hope he’s in a better place.”
“...me too.” The magician lets go of your chair, and he grabs the box of cards from the table and shoves it into his pocket. “It’s a shame his case got closed along with…the other boy.”
“They were such important people in our department too,” you sigh, placing your elbows on the vanity table. “Junpei was loved by everybody–maybe his timidness was endearing, but seeing him smile brought a smile to all our faces–and he wrote better than he gave himself credit for.” Poison walks up to you, and you smile as you lean down to pet him. “And Megumi…gosh, he never gave himself enough credit.”
You look up in the mirror, and you see the magician listening to you intently, eyes locked onto you. “He was incredibly talented. So skilled, so smart, so insightful, and despite his aloofness, he was never afraid to show that he cared. It’s what I liked about him.”
He nods, his hands in his pockets as he seems to fidget with the cards inside them. It’s almost like you can visually see the way the words mix into his thoughts in his mind, the only problem is you don’t know what those thoughts are. “You loved him a lot, huh?”
“...sometimes I feel like it’s too much for my own good. But I don’t regret a single bit of it.” A similar laugh from earlier bubbles out, but it’s shakier this time. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have rambled–” You realize now how much you’ve been talking with him–to him, and how easily you fell into a rant before you could stop yourself.
“It’s okay,” he grabs his top hat from the table, and adjusts it onto his head, his voice carrying a slight edge to it. “It was needed.”
He walks over to the mirror again, standing right behind you, and the mirror makes it clear. Makes him clear.
“I just wish their cases weren’t closed. I highly doubt it's a suicide, but we barely even know if it was or not…” you bury your head in your hands, the case from a year ago bringing back the stress and grief of just wanting–needing to know why.
“I doubt it was a suicide as well.” The magician speaks up, and your eyes quickly find his in the mirror.
“What makes you say that?” You ask.
“Well, you praised his skills in the police department. Only those who know their skills well would do as well as you described him. And he had his sister, his friends in there…and you.”
There’s something in the way the light in his eyes seem to both brighten up and soften as he mentioned you specifically, like you were an entirely different department to him. To Megumi.
“I don’t think he’d choose to leave someone like you so easily. Not unless he was forced, or something.”
The past few weeks come back. For weeks, you’ve had an almost daily occurrence of seeing this magician. He was engraved in your plans so easily like it had always been there. Like it never left–like it was only interrupted for a short while.
“Wait–forced?” You suddenly speak up, more to yourself than him.
“Who knows? I’m just saying I have heavy doubts that he’d willingly end his life.”
The magician spoke about him so normally, like the mention of Megumi and suicide was a casual topic–as if it were two things to never coincide. The same way he was always certain with his eyes–the same darn way he was always knowing. Knowing something you didn’t.
“...uh huh.” You nod, almost lost in your own thoughts now.
“Well, you should ask more about it, it does seem unfair. Talk about it to his sister.” The magician immediately gives you advice, like you know him as more than just the magician and he knows you as more than just the random girl who came into his circus out of curiosity.
“...I guess. Maybe I’ll talk about it to Detective Sukuna. Or ask Yuuji to ask him instead.”
The magician nods, and he releases his hand from the chair and walks back to his table, grabbing the cards out again and spreading them across the table like he was preparing to perform a magic trick. Curious, once again, you walk over to the opposite side of the table, still lost in your own thoughts but wanting to see what he was doing.
He scoops all the cards back up instantly, shuffles them in his hand without looking, his eyes on you instead. “Think of a card, but don’t tell me what it is.”
You look up to think of a card, and look back at him immediately after you get one in your head, nodding. It feels familiar to your second meeting with him.
He nods back, and Poison comes up right next to you, nuzzling his head in your leg. The magician’s shuffling is so expert you wonder how many times he must’ve done this. Each card felt like a line in a script and he’d memorize all of it.
He smoothly displayed each card facing down on the table, his eyes never leaving you. “Now, pick one.”
You tilt your head–there was no way you’d pick the right one. As much of a magician he seemed, magic still didn’t really fit in your world where it was only something spoken about in fiction or birthday parties. Hovering your hand above the fifty-two cards, you pick the one on the far right.
“Reveal it to the mirror behind me, and tell me if it’s right.” He says, closing his eyes as he allows you to hold the card up.
Slowly, you peel the card off your hand and start to turn it around in the mirror–and there it is. Right next to the reflection of the magician’s back, the card with the King of Spades is showcased in your own hand. A soft gasp escapes your throat as you see it.
“From that, I’m assuming I got it right?” He speaks with the rare, smug tone he uses when he knows he’s right, and when you look at him, a part of you wants to wipe that smirk off his face.
“Yeah, whatever,” you laugh, tossing the card back onto the table face up once he opens his eyes to look at you. “Magic or something.”
He mirrors your laugh, using one swift motion to bring all the cards together again. “Maybe you just listened to your intuition. You couldn’t see behind the card, but showing it to a mirror revealed it.” He reshuffles the cards again before shoving it back into the box, but your eyes are on the mirror, skeptical and questioning.
“You learn more about a person in the way people see themselves than looking at them directly.”
You learn more about a person in the way people see themselves than looking at them directly. Maybe seeing the reflection, the look on someone or something’s eyes in the mirror would reveal more than just looking at them or it. Maybe you’ve been looking wrong the entire time. Maybe, there’s an entire dimension within the mirror you’re oblivious about. Maybe it’s the liminal space of the mirror that only some choose to go to once having dug so deep into something only to hide it there for only them to look at.
You remember discussing in your English class in college that those who create art have the power to tug at the unknown. What the world doesn’t know, and what the world isn’t. You think that’s similar to the dimension beyond the surface of the mirror.
You can almost hear the words of the mirror as you stare at it, and it seems awfully similar to the magician’s tone. And, maybe, that’s why you’re a journalist. Maybe, that’s why you’re a writer.
Talking more to the you in the mirror less than the magician right in front of you, the reflection of one’s self—his words replay in your head like a broken record.
“...right.”
masterlist. stage play (series mlist). prev. next.
jjk taglist: open, js lmk :)
@megumismyhusband or @riuvy / @reverd-ck / @falsedivide / @catboygumi
a/n: UPDATE EVERYONE!!! hello people of cards reflections I am back. Sort of. because adulting has successfully claimed me in its hands I have acquired myself a full time job…making writing a LOT harder than it already was…I used to churn out 5k-7k words a day but uh guys don’t do IB it genuinely burns you tf out. getting a job was probably not good for my mental health but it is only a summer job so uh here I am. Anyway—I did NOT mean for this to be two months late considering I finished writing this back in like MARCH ????this was acc one of the first eps i wrote for some reason. still pissed ab the crap magic trick but ykw i suck at magic too whatevervvrevrververvr. ily megumi. ilyouguys. that entire art and unknown thing was based off a real class hehe i love my english classes so much. i love english and writing ahhh. hope you enjoyededededed. sorry for delay again my life is so crazy even tho nothing is happening rn I’m lowkey so tired 😭😭😭. Megumi come save me. this story lost itself like months ago. again so sorry for being dead but im slowly crawling out of my writing burnout/slump. writing will never leave me <3 i love you guys
lol im not trying to sound rude but how do u say u write fics when all of them are megumi x YOU..? 😅 do ppl really read storys about megumi x a random person? Just wondering lmfao
fanfic by definition is a piece of writing written by a fan, which means anything written by a fan with/of their character/celebrity is considered fanfic! I know a lot of fanfics are written on ships, but I'm personally a character x reader person. you sent this ask to my side blog and not my actual main blog where i DO write fanfics, so my actual megumi x reader fics or just any character x reader fics are on @yinyqngg , this account is just my side blog! hope this clears up any confusion lol
and yeah apparently people do read megumi x random person, but i mostly write them and publish them for myself cz im a yumeshipper :3, im grateful that people actually choose to read them ^^
At the famous Bomi’s Brew that went viral after the Yuki Tsukumo went and recommended it to everyone, they’ve been quite busy! So busy in fact, that we even have a little romance slipping into the loud moments of the rowdy cafe–blooming behind the scenes! Let’s see what customers have to say.
★★★★★
Coffee was great as always! Quick and made with love–clearly, with those two baristas holding hands behind coffee machines.
★★★★★
I ordered a matcha latte and saw a rom-instead. I’d rate it 0 stars because I’m jealous, but their drink was good enough that I couldn’t (also cute enough)
★★★★★
The pastries were fresh and tasty! And when the man who served it to me went back, I overheard him whispering to one of the female employees there. She blushed and hit his arm after that. Guess I got a good view as well.
★☆☆☆☆
One star because right after the female employee went to the back, the black haired employee followed right behind her and closed the door. They were being cute back there, I totally know it.
Either gaining or losing stars from cuteness, right? It all sounds subtle, but to loyal customers who go to cafes and totally not spy on two employees who might be dating, they’ll notice even the smallest bits! Maybe it’s part of what makes Bomi’s Brew, Bomi’s Brew! And you might be wondering–what do their coworkers think of this?
YUUJI: Oh! No wonder why he got all quiet whenever she was mentioned! And no wonder he started doing customer service more too. Said he wanted to help more at the front and with serving–and anyway, they match each other! Makes Fushiguro all the more calmer. Oh, and make sure to put this in–happy birthday, Ying!
NOBARA: This is getting out now, eh? Ha! On Ying’s birthday too! Well, they’re both really lowkey and private about it, and now that we’ve gone big, they barely get the time! Kinda makes me sick–I had her first, you know? But, then again, she’s doing us a favor by keeping old grouchy Fushiguro all to herself. Though, he is more patient now…suspicious. But they’ve always been pining each other from the start, anyway.
TOGE: Won the bet. Knew it. One hundred percent.
GOJO: I can’t believe I, the manager, lost a bet to my own employee…
MAKI: Megumi never tells us anything, you know? We’ll be finding out more about Megumi from paparazzi and Ying than actually from Megumi himself! I just know he’ll be pissed that this is out. Wouldn’t ya love to see that? On Ying’s birthday of all days, too.
YUTA: Eh? Well, we all noticed that about them. They always seemed cute, and, actually, I was honored Megumi sometimes confided in me about her when he first started liking her! Megumi never talks about himself, so I’m glad I was able to hear about it and give him advice, even if he was trying to be subtle about it. And–well, it’s out to the public now! I just hope the public isn’t too nosy about it, especially on Ying’s birthday, haha. They’re a strong couple–it won’t shake them.
New information there–it was the female barista’s birthday too! What a coincidence! And apparently, from Yuuji himself–he got a picture of them from the back! A wholesome and intimate moment shared–only from two people so in love.
And through the smell of coffee and freshly baked pastries in the air, the couple still stays strong! Let’s hear from their official statements.
YING: Ah, that got out…? From who…? Yuuji?! He better sleep with one eye open tonight! Oh! Yes, thank you, haha! It is my birthday, yes. And, no, it doesn’t bother me that I have to work on my birthday. In fact, I prefer it here anyway! Working with my friends who are basically family doing the thing I love…and, now that it’s out, I get to be with my boyfriend side by side everyday. We do get tired during rush hour obviously, but…it gets much easier when it’s with him. He’s like the sugar in my coffee. Will he be reading this? Well–just in case he does–I love you so much, Megumi!
MEGUMI: Yuuji took that picture, didn’t he? Gosh…always snooping around. Well, yeah. We’ve been together even before Ms. Tsukumo came here to visit Gojo. Ying always manages to put a smile on my face, and she makes days working here easier, especially after it got so busy. It makes me grateful for even a small moment behind the scenes to just hold her and be close to her without the pressure of anything. It’s like time fades away. And, because I know she’ll definitely read this: Happiest of Birthdays, Ying. I love you so much–glad to still be here with you.
And there we have it folks! An open secret about the two weirdly but not so weird anymore baristas at Bomi’s Brew! Happy Birthday to Ying, and best of luck to Bomi’s Brew!
a/n: uhm. im eighteen now. and heres another lazy self indulgent report of megumi and i HELPPP. for those of you who havent seen yet i recently got a coffee machine for my bday (ninja luxe cafe!) and ive been on it like. everyday. AND therefore ive been on coffee shop yinggumi/meguying like CRAZY. and here’s context because literally no one knows what bomi's brew is—it's a fake cafe i made up after my boba plushie named bomi LOL. ive never really done anything with the imaginary cafe at first i planned to get a boba truck and name it bomi's brew but that was a dream so i might just use it in yinggumi coffee shop au lore LOL. ALSO ART CREDS TO ME HELPPP I MADE SOME BUNZ ART BUT HEY COFFE SHOP AU YINGGUMI HEHEHE. sigh Megumi showing up with my favorite coffee orders…the dream. thanks for all the bday wishes guys <333 i love you all so much! i am now legal!!!
summary: Life came with loss—that's not unprecedented. But as you let your curiosity take over you once again, you find yourself wanting to explore the legend of a cursed magician in an abandoned circus—even if one of your occult obsessed colleagues was being stupid about it. Oh, but what will you do when you find out it wasn't stupid? And what will you do when you dig deeper, find out way more than you should've, all while staying by the magician's side like he was always supposed to be there?
contents: FOURTH PART, 2.0k wc, ayo i am SO sorry this is SO MUCH ANGST, hurt/no comfort kfgjdg, deaths mentioned, the whole gng is here, shorter part to focus on the deaths, so much angst i ruined my mood writing n rereading this, bad writing who wouldve thought
However bipolar the weather was, it was only but a mere inconvenience as you and Tsumiki decided to visit the graveyard. Using his favorite umbrella–clear, curved in a way it would feel like more than just shelter above you–the both of you walked under it as you made your way to his grave.
And when you both arrive, Tsumiki kneels down–and usually, you’d tell her about her skirt getting dirty, but at this moment, you both know who would be more than you. Who the mere action of scolding her would remind the both of you of.
“Yeah, I know my skirt is dirty, Megumi.” She places her hand on the stone, his name engraved on it like a silent promise and a pleading tree having fallen in the forest with nobody around. “Pen here would say the same.”
And she knew you would. You knew you would. Because Megumi knew you as well as Tsumiki did, and you’d always let her know how much looking at her would remind you of your lover’s face no matter how contrasting they were–his eyes would be furrowed, hers gentle, both speaking similar emotions. His eyes sharp, her eyes soft, both focused on what they’re looking at.
“I would.” You echo, not sure she heard it, but hoping the wind carried the sound enough for him to hear it. Hoping the wind carried it along with the pouring rain, the leaves falling from the trees, and soon, the quiet sobs of Tsumiki.
You kneel down next to her, wrapping your arms around her, and soon enough, your own tears join hers in the wind. It was as if the physical contact triggered the tears–a lost brother to her, and a lost lover to you a year ago. And no matter how much rain falls, how much the wind tries to blow whatever it can away–his grave would stay stuck there, barely budging in the same way Megumi would never allow himself to stumble.
Your choked sobs with her are mixing together, and you both know that Megumi would tell you guys to stop crying. He would place his hands on your back, and despite his aloof personality, he’d pull you guys closer, wrapping his arms in a protective embrace around you guys. And now all you had was his umbrella shielding you from the rain, and while it feels like barely enough, it’s all you're grateful for if not Tsumiki’s arms wrapping around you too. It’s like no matter what you did, no matter how close he felt, everything that reminded you of your current life would remind you that he was gone.
You both pull away like each tick of the clock has slowed down when your sobs subside, hands still on each other like each tear didn’t already have a memory run down your cheeks only to be taken like raindrops in the soil.
“Man, I miss him.” Tsumiki’s laugh bubbles up her throat as more tears coat her eyes, probably laughing from the fact that he was actually gone. Like she still wakes up expecting to scold him or watch over him like the older sister she was so used to being. Still used to being.
“...me too,” you whisper back, sharing the same memories as her. The way he’d hold your hand and pull you closer when no one was looking–and the way there was no way for him to do that right now made you want to scream into the flowers you both brought for him.
“Tough kid, he was.” A voice surprisingly cut through the wind, the rain, and it was the same voice that made you shudder of annoyance. But the grief is far greater than the hate, and Tsumiki never hated. Barely got angry. Megumi tried his best not to either–older sister influence.
“Didn’t expect you to come, Sukuna.” Tsumiki stands up first, wiping her tears, and you follow quickly after since you were the one holding the umbrella.
“He was an important figure in our department. I should come.” He walks in between you guys, and it causes you to pull your umbrella to your side. As Sukuna bends over to place his own bouquet of flowers, you rush over to cover Tsumiki from the rain, but she seems unfazed–her eyes stay on her brother’s grave. On the last bit of family she had.
“Is anyone else coming?” She inquires as soon as Sukuna stands up straight after what felt like ages of him staring at his grave, his gaze stuck on Megumi’s engraved name.
“Think so,” he says quietly, before sighing and running his free hand through his hair. “Hell, can’t believe his case got closed along with Junpei’s…”
The words hit hard, and it makes both you and Tsumiki shiver–and absolutely not from the cold. Not when the memories of not being able to work on Megumi’s case come flooding back. Not when the memories of both Megumi’s case and Junpei’s case overlapped and getting zero answers to both. Not when there were zero outcomes of two important, loved and cared for people in your company after the company went through hell up and down just trying to find out why.
The mention of Junpei reminded both you and Tsumiki–his grave was right by Megumi’s. You gave your bouquet to Tsumiki and held the umbrella above her as she knelt down to place the flowers on Junpei’s grave too, and it might be the rain, the wind, or the leaves, but you don’t doubt she’s holding back her tears again.
You watch Sukuna kneel down next to her, placing his own flowers down as he places a hand on her back, rubbing it softly up and down. As her sounds mix in with the weather, it overshadows the numerous footsteps coming up from behind you. And when you turn around, it feels a little safer.
“You’re here.” You walk up to each of them and hug them, all of you trying your best not to get wet.
“There’s no way we wouldn’t be here.” Detective–no, just Geto, says as he leans down to hug you. He stands next to Gojo, Nanami, Ino, and Shoko as they stand behind the younger ones kneeling down and placing their flowers onto the graves. Yuta and Maki are holding hands, heads down, you can tell Nobara and Yuuji’s chests hurt from holding back the tears of their best friends' graves, and Toge makes sure the flowers are placed nicely.
And just like that–with the single feeling of all of you being together–it takes you back to the torturing, agonizing late nights of running around the building and blurred vision from tears from almost a year ago when Megumi died while Junpei’s case had zero leads. It takes you back to running around the city at four in the morning before the sun rises and the only reason you stopped was because your legs and heart couldn’t take it anymore. It takes you back to when Sukuna had informed you guys he found Megumi’s body in the same place as Junpei’s. To when Geto and Gojo could barely work without fighting, how Shoko had to preserve their bodies, how Tsumiki had lost herself in such a way none of you guys had seen before, how Nanami and Yuuji felt like they failed Junpei, how everyone felt like they failed Megumi. It takes you back to when you attended the funerals for them.
They’ve always felt close, both before their unfortunate deaths and after. Recently, and you don’t know if it’s just you or not, but they definitely feel a lot closer than before. Like they’re just out of your reach, or just under your nose–like their tears formed a puddle for you to reflect into.
Or…maybe you just miss them. Miss him. And you wish he were here right now. You wish you were seeing them both by your sides, walking with you and talking about anything and everything.
You close your eyes, the rain crying for you instead. The rain joined in the tears for the two people in your department who were gone too early and loved too much. You remember how Yuuji and Toge always dragged out Junpei into the rain and panicked when he’d get his camera wet. You remember how Megumi would bring you behind the building of your department, dancing in the rain for no one to hear and no one to see but you and the reflections of you two in the water. How everyone’s dynamic was during the brief moments of passing by each other or lunch breaks.
It may be the rain. It may be the wind. But you know better. Multiple choked back sobs and breaths hitching are repeated behind you like broken records, and when you open your eyes to look up–the rain isn’t from the clouds, but the reflections you see in puddles because everyone remembers the devastation they felt when they couldn’t work on the case and had to hand it to another department. Everyone who would lose sleep and be up just to see if anything was found out about Megumi and Junpei. Everyone, who right now, wishes the two boys were standing tall and proud.
The sky starts blending into a darker gray. But you don’t want to talk. Not yet.
So Tsumiki does–of course she did. She was always the first to look out for others even in a situation where she absolutely needed someone else to ground her. You don't know how she did it. How she does it.
“We should go,” she speaks in that same, soft, older sister's commanding tone. It felt like such a trademark of Tsumiki’s you wouldn’t be surprised if Megumi woke up from the dead right now. “It’s getting late.”
And Gojo’s the one who breaks the ice next–his hands being placed on you and Tsumiki’s shoulders. “Not so fast. I said I’d treat you guys, remember?”
A laugh escapes Tsumiki, and soon enough, you see smiles being painted on most faces. The tension never leaves, but it feels lighter as everyone stands up and looks at the grave for a few more moments before turning. Not that turning away ever felt light.
You follow along with the rest, Tsumiki right by your side and Sukuna on her other side, sharing his umbrella with her. You pause in your movements, and your head turns back before you even think about it. Megumi and Junpei’s graves, soaked and drowning as the rain starts to increase.
And it feels hollow. Both of the graves do, yes, but you do. You were never able to sit right with this case–both bases, and you still don’t. You still stay up at night thinking about how naive Junpei must’ve felt during his last moments, and the thoughts that must’ve gone through Megumi’s heads right before his death. And when you turn in your bed and it feels a little emptier than normal–you hate the world a little more.
“Pen?” You hear Tsumiki’s familiar voice call you, but you don’t turn back. Not yet.
You look at the graves, and you speak something that you know only they will hear of. And you want it that way anyway. And it seems stupid–but you’ve never stopped. The case being closed won’t stop you, and the grief will for sure never stop you. Not when you can come to them with a clear case file that has the answers to everything.
I will solve this.
And you swear on it.
You turn, and your umbrella twists with you as you make your way next to Tsumiki. “I’m back. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She smiles, and she interlocks her hands with yours–and you know this gesture. Older sister instincts, yes, but it’s for herself as much as it is towards you. Something to keep both of you ground, but especially her.
Because everyone fades out. Everyone fades out like everything else does after you visit their graves, and soon enough you think the graves themselves will fade out. It’ll just be you battling with what you don’t know–and the only thing you do know is that there is always more beneath the surface.
And when you think of Megumi–his and Junpei’s situation–you can’t help but tighten your grip around her hand too.
masterlist. stage play (series mlist). prev. next.
jjk taglist: open, js lmk :)
@megumismyhusband or @riuvy / @reverd-ck / @falsedivide / @catboygumi
a/n: NOT TWO MONTHS LATE I PROMISED THAT. ALTHOUGH THIS IS VERY BAD WRITING IM IN EXAM SZN OKSDFKJSD...nyway. gang dont come for me pls haha listen i was sad too uhm uhm look it all plays within the story okay WOW OCTOBER YING WAS SO RUTHLESS TOWARDS JUNPEI I LITERALLY LOVE JUNPEI SO MUCH HELLO ????? yeah i wrote this bs during october last year WHY WAS I. SO RUDE TO JUNPEI. well im being rude to my one and only megumi too BUT JUNPEI MY GOSH HE ALR GOT SOME BS TREATMENT AND FOUR EPS ONLY AND NOW YING ON SOME "nahhh he died n his case got closed w megumis" ayo this author on some drugs bro (fujimoto ahh situation rn). pls dont kill me pls i love yall mwah yalls my everythings. hope you enjoyed yayayaaa this ep wasnt TWO MONTHS LATER but i cant guarantee the next one wont be either......
guys guys my favorite band is coming here and i didnt even know wtf i js saw it as an advertisement on instagram i dont have money haha hi guys writing and art comms open RN FRICK.
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- @yinyqngg is my main, you're on my side blog lol. i write fics so you might wanna check that out.
- no.1 megumi enthusiast i will defend him like my life depends on it.
- random thoughts here to make me feel like yn in smaus lol.
- thanks for stopping by. enjoy night city <3
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