Satosugu - Tumblr Posts

when the love is so big that it transcends time and distance and every force of nature reckons them. When the narrative, despite dooming them, fails to erase them, so their love lingers like a phantasm. Ghastly.

Gojo Satoru is the prime example of a character whose very existence is rooted in weaponisation. His dehumanisation is so severe that it serves as a point of origination for who he really is. And while it is a fact that Gojo, as the strongest sorcerer, cares very little for his inherent weaponisation, it still doesn’t make his character any less tragic. Canonically speaking, Gojo used his weaponisation to bring his long term goals into motion, without his dehumanisation, the narrative would be very fractured. This is why the hidden inventory arc was the rawest, most jarring arc of the entire series because not only does Gojo get a taste of normalcy but gets hooked onto it to the point that he, a weapon of the Jujutsu society, lets a mass murderer roam freely for ten years. Gojo’s weaponisation is tragic when you see it from the lenses of a viewer. Because at his very core, he is human, which is why his blue spring of youth serves as the point where the entire trajectory of the manga changes because it is when he experiences something akin to normalcy. Obviously this doesn’t take away from the fact that Gojo himself uses his weaponisation to his convenience and often asserts himself a weapon to fulfil his motives but it just gives a lot more dimension to his character. He is not someone who pities himself for being a weapon, because he has honed himself as a weapon, along with the very narrative but that doesn’t take away from his innate humanness.

From having a bounty on his head from the moment he was born to experiencing a taste of youth, to loving and living and losing and then dedicating himself to give the next generation of sorcerers the youth they deserve, to fighting and dying by the hands of the strongest. Gojo fulfils his role not only as a weapon but also a human.

satosugu

jjk 271 has convinced me that no famous piece of media can ever have a tolerable fanbase.

To start off, Gojo’s death was actually very beautifully done and not once have i believed that he should’ve come back. One thing that Gojo strived for after Geto’s defection was to create a Jujutsu society that wouldn’t corner their sorcerers as mere weapons and take away their youth. He was a firm believer of the fact that honing strong students would reshape and shake the very foundation of jujutsu society.

We know of Gojo’s inherent weaponisation. But it is not only Gojo who undergoes this objectification and weaponisation, it is actually every sorcerer in the jujutsu society. We don’t see Nanami, Yuki, Gojo or even Yaga get a funeral. It is because of two prominent reasons. One being the fact that the jujutsu society was built upon such shallow beliefs that the death of these sorcerers was simply brushed aside as a common occurrence. They are not offered a “funeral” or a memorial simply because these sorcerers are mere weapons to the jujutsu society and the death of a weapon simply concludes its existence and its period of serving. It is to be discarded, not mourned over, for it is simply a weapon. But another, surprisingly kinder reason, is offered to us by the narrative. As Todo Aoi says, “Grieving over the departed can tarnish their memories. Instead we must carry their will forward.” Through this we are allowed to finally understand the reason for the innumerable Gojo flashbacks during these last few chapters.

Gojo is a character who suffered from loneliness and isolation in his own unique way. It was never something that held him back yet he expresses his want to not be forgotten in the last conversation he had with Yuji. He also expresses his firm belief in his students rather than himself because he is aware that even if HE loses his students won’t. This completely changes the meaning of the infamous “Nah I’d win” panel because he wasn’t talking about his solo victory, but rather his victory as a teacher who raised sorcerers to be stronger than him and of the victory his students would achieve for him.

For a character like Gojo who wants not to be forgotten, Sukuna offers him the much needed solace of remembrance. “I’ll never forget you.” Sukuna ensures that Satoru and the very narrative make note of his choice to remember the sorcerer for the rest of his life. The two strongest sorcerers who exist as complete anti parallels to each other in both ideals and beliefs find a common ground in their shared loneliness that comes with being the strongest.

Satoru’s death was a very deserving and beautiful end for his character. He died while being acknowledged and remembered. He passed on to go south, back to his old self where his happiest memories lay, no other ending would be greater for Satoru Gojo than this.

Secondly, the interpretation of Sukuna and Uraume’s relationship. There was no context given as to who they used to be or where their uncanny companionship stemmed from, throughout the story we only see them as entities of the present, not getting a look into their dynamic during the heian era. The only few panels we get during Yorozu’s part just reestablish Uraume as a dutiful and faithful servant to their lord. So to see Sukuna display such tenderness towards them in the last chapter kind of dismantles our idea of their relationship. Mahito says Sukuna sought revenge for the execution of “that wench.” Then further, Sukuna explains how he had two paths, one with a black haired woman and one with Uraume, he chooses the one with Uraume to begin their lives anew.

In the conclusion of their story, Gege’s choice to keep Sukuna and Uraume’s joint past unexplained was a clever choice to not tarnish the sanctity of their relationship. It allows the reader to interpret their dynamics in whatever way they wish to. Because what is more important than the nature of their relationship, is Sukuna’s openness to understanding and partaking in the act of “love.” You may see it as parental, familial or romantic, it is not the nature that holds significance, it is the act itself.

Personally I like to picture Sukuna as a guardian or authoritative figure who took in Uraume with a guardian like intent to raise them and in this new life, will be able to nurture them with love. But again, the ending is quiet open for everyone’s own interpretation. Its just that i feel for Sukuna, a character who refused to believe in the very concept of love, a guardian-like role would be truly grounding as it wouldn’t impose conditionality on them, like a romantic relationship does. However, as i said, the nature matters less than the act itself.

To argue over the nature of their relationship is simply stupid. People are allowed to have their own interpretations of unspecified relationships, and creating unnecessary arguments over the validity of your own interpretation of their relationship takes away from the very essence of Sukuna and Uraume’s ending.

Satoru with sparkly eyes who looks at Suguru like he’s hung the stars in the sky. And this trait of his remains unchanged throughout the years, they grow up, they grow apart, but the glitter in Satoru’s eyes never goes away, he still looks at Suguru, in life and death, with the same gleam in his eyes, like he’s someone divine, his eyes turning into tiny celestial bodies swimming in pools of white every single time he gets a glimpse of Suguru. He’s so starstruck and in love its actually crazy.

satosugu or sukugo au with canon divergence where he loses his six eyes and inevitably goes blind so when he wakes up, his celestial blue eyes have lost all their colour and glitter. What stares back at shoko is an empty void of black amidst an endless sea of white that stretches and bleeds out of Satoru’s eyes that struggle to adjust to the nothingness around them. And with time, the emptiness within them becomes more and more pronounced, the only remnants of something akin to emotion is a ghastly silhouette who’s existence becomes pronounced once every blue moon, when something shifts in Satoru’s usual expression, a flash of silver in the void, or a glint of teasing blue, appearing only for a flicker of a second before disappearing. It takes everyone weeks, even months to adjust to Gojo’s blindness, he still wears his blindfold and/or glasses out of habit, but also because when in battle, what truly shakes his enemy the most is the subliminal revelation of the vacancy in his eyes. There’s no fear, no arrogance, nothing but simple blankness except to those who manage to catch the occasional exception of it.

Gojo comes back jjk ch 257 (I definitely didn't rearrange the satosugu number...)

some wholesome art to cleanse you of the angst that has taken over today 😁🎄

2023 Art Summary 🎉

🖤🤍

so who wants to make a stsg discord where we can share fics and art and theories and screaming? because i’m down for it

Geto because he's cool

(ft mattie style crisis #457)

Fem! SatoSugu finished <3

Went for a little retro (?) Ish aesthetic with their looks + Suguru is wearing a outfit Evira did because if just felt right

Cowboy Gojo!! Jjk men x cowboys are making a return and I'm here for it

this could be us while you playin' 💔

my one and only valentine

“when he speaks at last, his voice is weary, and defeated. he doesn’t know how to be angry with me, either. we are like damp wood that won’t light.”

Cursed with Colds and Care! - S. GE x S. Go x E. S x Reader

[ In which you are sick with a cold and your lovers comfort you, but also get sick!! ]

< Masterlist >

< Request Rules >

It was a rare occurrence for you to be out of commission, but today, you were undeniably defeated by a nasty cold. Normally, you could handle the daily demands of being a sorcerer—cursed spirits, missions, and endless training—but a common cold? Apparently, it had no mercy. You were wrapped up in layers of blankets in your dorm room at Jujutsu High, surrounded by tissues, your head pounding and body aching.

The grogginess of your illness kept you in a fog, barely conscious, until you heard the loud bang of your door swinging open.

"Alright! The cavalry is here!" came the too-loud voice of none other than Satoru Gojo, striding into the room like he owned the place. His signature sunglasses were perched on his nose, his hair even messier than usual, and in his hand was a giant shopping bag full of… something.

Trailing right behind him, with considerably more grace and an eye-roll to match, was Suguru Geto. He looked less than amused but still carried a faint smile on his lips as he observed the scene unfolding. “You’ve been in here, what—two days? Leave it to Satoru to come in like you’re on your deathbed,” Geto quipped, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.

And, finally, in came Shoko Ieiri, hands stuffed in her white coat’s pockets. She looked as apathetic as always, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re not dying, you know,” she said casually, but you could tell she was actually concerned, in her own low-key way. “But you do look awful. You might want to stop letting Satoru make all the decisions while you’re out of commission.”

Gojo, feigning offense, huffed dramatically. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a great nurse!” He plopped down on the edge of your bed, leaning over to scrutinize you closely with his exaggerated expressions. “Poor, poor Reader! Stricken down by a simple cold. But don’t worry, I, Satoru Gojo, will bring you back from the brink!”

You groaned weakly, rolling over to face him, your voice raspy from a sore throat. “Satoru, I think I’ll be fine with just some sleep.”

“No, no, no!” Gojo declared, dramatically waving his hands in the air. “I’ve got just the thing!” He reached into his oversized bag, pulling out the most absurd assortment of items—a fancy-looking humidifier shaped like a panda, an expensive plush blanket, and a box of imported chocolates that probably cost as much as a small car.

Geto raised a brow, amusement clear on his face. “The chocolates, really? For a cold?”

“Of course!” Gojo grinned, completely serious. “It’s scientifically proven that chocolate makes people feel better. And the humidifier will help them breathe. Plus, the blanket’s just a bonus, ‘cause I’m a thoughtful guy.”

Shoko sighed, pulling a cigarette from her pocket and twirling it between her fingers (though she wisely chose not to light it indoors). “He’s hopeless,” she said, though there was a faint smile on her lips. She stepped closer to your bedside, nudging Gojo aside to take your temperature with the back of her hand. “You’re running a bit of a fever. But nothing dangerous. Just need to rest up.”

“I told you,” you muttered, sinking deeper into your cocoon of blankets. “I just need rest. You guys didn’t have to come by…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Geto cut in, moving to sit on the other side of your bed. His voice was soft, but there was a firmness to it. “Of course we’re going to check on you. You’d do the same for any of us.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Even when you were exhausted and feverish, you knew your friends meant well, even if Gojo had the subtlety of a sledgehammer. “Thanks,” you murmured, glancing between the three of them. “I just didn’t expect the grand parade.”

“Well, you know Satoru,” Geto said with a smirk. “Everything’s a spectacle with him.”

Gojo beamed proudly, unbothered by the teasing. “You’re welcome! Now, time for the healing powers of chocolate!” He unwrapped the box with the flourish of a magician, holding it out to you as if presenting the world’s greatest treasure.

Shoko pinched the bridge of her nose. “I think they need fluids more than overpriced candy.”

“I brought that too!” Gojo proclaimed, reaching into his bag and pulling out several energy drinks, each more neon-colored and suspicious-looking than the last. “These’ll perk you right up.”

You made a face. “Satoru… I don’t think energy drinks are the solution here.”

“They definitely are not,” Geto agreed, shaking his head. He took the box of chocolates from Gojo’s hands, much to the taller sorcerer’s dismay, and set them aside. “You need tea. Something warm. I’ll make you some.”

You blinked, touched by his offer. “Suguru, you don’t have to—”

“I’m already up,” he said with a shrug, standing and heading towards the small kitchenette. “Besides, if we leave it to Satoru, you’ll end up with some kind of strange elixir.”

“I’m deeply offended,” Gojo declared, clutching his heart dramatically as he lay back on the bed next to you. “You don’t trust my healing powers at all, Reader?”

You gave him a weak smile, your body too tired to properly banter with him. “I’m sure your… unconventional methods work for someone. But I’ll take the tea.”

Shoko, who had been leaning against the wall with a smirk, moved to the bedside table and grabbed a pack of fever-reducing medicine she’d brought with her. “Take these,” she instructed, holding them out for you. “They’ll help bring the fever down. Suguru’s tea will take care of the rest.”

You obediently swallowed the medicine with a sip of water, feeling slightly less foggy as it began to take effect. “Thank you, Shoko.”

“No problem,” she said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed where Gojo wasn’t sprawled out. “Just don’t let Satoru talk you into any of his weird recovery plans.”

Gojo gasped dramatically, sitting up. “I’ll have you know my plans are perfect. Look at Reader—they’re practically glowing already!”

You let out a weak laugh. “That’s just the fever.”

Geto returned with a steaming cup of tea, setting it down gently on the bedside table before sitting back down. “Here. It’s just plain tea with honey—nothing too fancy. Should help your throat.”

You reached for the cup, your hands trembling slightly, but Geto steadied it for you, holding it while you took a careful sip. The warmth was soothing, and you sighed in relief. “This is perfect. Thank you, Suguru.”

He smiled softly, still holding the cup for you as you took another sip. “Take it easy. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

Gojo watched the scene unfold, then pouted. “Hey, where’s my credit? I brought the fancy blanket!”

Shoko smirked, leaning back on her hands. “You want a medal for that, Satoru?”

“Maybe!” Gojo grinned, shifting closer to you. “But I won’t ask for one. I’m too humble.”

You snorted, feeling a little more alive with the tea warming you from the inside. “Humble? That’s a new one.”

The teasing continued, the familiar banter between the three of them making you feel a little more like yourself. Even through the haze of your cold, you couldn’t help but feel grateful to have them there. They might’ve been a chaotic trio, but they were your chaotic trio.

As the conversation continued, your eyelids began to grow heavier, the warmth of the tea and the comfort of your friends lulling you into a sense of calm. Suguru noticed, gently setting the tea aside and helping you lean back into your pillows.

“You should sleep,” he said quietly, his voice gentle. “We’ll stick around.”

You nodded, too tired to argue, though you felt a small twinge of embarrassment at the idea of falling asleep while they were all there. “You don’t have to stay…”

“Of course we do,” Shoko said, stretching her legs out and making herself comfortable. “Besides, someone’s gotta make sure Satoru doesn’t try anything weird while you’re asleep.”

Gojo gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me? I’m a professional! I would never do anything weird.”

You laughed softly, your head sinking deeper into the pillow. “Sure, Satoru. Whatever you say.”

As your eyes fluttered shut, you felt the weight of Geto’s hand gently resting on top of yours, a quiet reassurance that they’d be there when you woke up. And in the background, Gojo’s voice was still going, something about being the best nurse in the world, while Shoko shot back sarcastic remarks.

Even through your feverish haze, you felt a warmth that had nothing to do with being sick. They might drive you crazy sometimes, but with friends like these, you knew you’d never have to face anything alone.

With that comforting thought, you finally drifted off to sleep, the sounds of their bickering lulling you into a much-needed rest.

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing you noticed was how much better you felt. Your head wasn’t pounding, your throat wasn’t nearly as scratchy, and the fever that had left you weak and shivering had finally broken. Stretching beneath the cozy blanket Gojo had brought, you felt the lingering warmth of sleep leave your body, replaced with a refreshing clarity.

You sat up slowly, blinking as you adjusted to the morning light streaming through your dorm window. The room was quiet—eerily so, considering the chaos from last night.

And then you noticed why.

Scattered around your room were your three so-called “nurses,” each one looking far worse for wear than you had last night.

Gojo was slumped over in a chair, his long legs hanging awkwardly off the edge, sunglasses askew on his face, snoring loudly. There was a discarded tissue box at his feet, tissues spilling out onto the floor like a sad, crumpled mountain. His cheeks were flushed, not from his usual smug confidence, but from what was clearly a fever. Every so often, he’d let out a pitiful little cough between snores, completely oblivious to the world around him.

Geto, on the other hand, had claimed the couch near your window. He was bundled up in a pile of blankets, arms crossed over his chest, his usual calm and composed expression now marred by fatigue. His eyes were closed, but every so often he would let out a weak groan, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to find a better position. The usual stoic Suguru was clearly losing a battle to the very cold that had plagued you.

Shoko, who usually prided herself on being the practical one, was sprawled out on the floor, her head resting on her arm, looking the most unbothered by the situation. Despite her laid-back demeanor, there was no denying the slight paleness to her skin and the congestion in her breathing. She looked like she’d just resigned herself to her fate.

You blinked, piecing together the scene in front of you. ‘They all caught it? ‘

“Oh no,” you murmured under your breath, feeling a mix of guilt and amusement bubble up inside you. These three, who had spent the night tending to you—Gojo’s chaotic energy, Geto’s calm attentiveness, and Shoko’s dry practicality—were now all victims of the very illness they’d been trying to help you with.

Gojo let out a particularly loud snore, jolting himself awake with a startled, “Wha—?!” He blinked rapidly, then groaned, rubbing his eyes beneath his tilted sunglasses. “Ugh… why does my head feel like it’s been cursed?” His voice was hoarse and nasal, making him sound almost pathetic.

You bit back a laugh, watching as he slowly registered the situation. “Morning, Satoru,” you said, voice filled with quiet amusement. “Feeling okay?”

He turned his head to you, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. He squinted at you as if trying to determine whether this was reality or some fever-induced dream. “Wait... you’re up? And you look fine?!” His voice cracked, and he dissolved into a fit of coughing.

“Seems like you guys caught what I had,” you said, now unable to stop yourself from grinning.

Gojo groaned dramatically, flopping back in the chair and throwing his arm over his eyes. “This is so unfair. I came here to save you, not to be infected!”

Across the room, Geto stirred from his blanket cocoon, one eye opening to observe the scene. He looked at you, blinking slowly. “You’re awake,” he muttered, his voice heavy with congestion. “And we’re sick.”

You winced, sitting up a bit straighter. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for you guys to catch it.”

He waved a dismissive hand but immediately regretted the motion as he coughed into his blanket. “It’s fine. Just bad timing.”

Shoko rolled over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as if she’d lost the will to move. “I knew I shouldn’t have let Satoru get so close. He’s a walking germ magnet.”

Gojo perked up at that, looking far more indignant than his sickly state should have allowed. “Me? You were the one breathing right next to them last night! You’re the doctor. Shouldn’t you have taken more precautions?”

Shoko turned her head lazily to look at him, her gaze unbothered. “And you’re the one who thought energy drinks and chocolates would cure a cold. You’re lucky we didn’t all die from a sugar overdose.”

Geto sighed, pulling his blanket up over his head as if to block out their bickering. “Both of you, shut up. I’m trying to sleep.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though you quickly tried to cover it with a cough. “I feel really bad,” you said, sliding out of bed. “You guys did so much for me, and now you’re all suffering.”

“Trust me, we’ve dealt with worse,” Shoko said, her voice nasal and thick with congestion. “Just pass me those tissues, and I’ll survive.”

You grabbed the tissues and handed them to her, and then turned to Gojo, who had begun dramatically fanning himself as if his fever were an inferno. “I’ll get you some water, Satoru. Calm down.”

He pouted at you but didn’t protest, which was a clear sign of how miserable he actually felt.

As you moved around the room, gathering supplies—tissues for Shoko, water for Gojo, and more blankets for Geto—you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Last night, they had been the ones taking care of you, and now the roles were reversed.

When you handed Geto a fresh blanket, he peered out from his cocoon just long enough to offer you a faint smile. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice tired but genuine.

“Don’t mention it,” you replied, tucking the blanket around him.

“Hey,” Gojo called weakly from his chair. “Where’s my fancy nurse service? I expect top-tier care now that I’m on death’s door.”

You shot him a look, but there was no malice behind it. “You’ll get your fancy nurse service, don’t worry.”

“I’d like some tea,” Shoko mumbled from her spot on the floor, waving a hand in the air. “Suguru’s tea. None of Satoru’s concoctions.”

“Noted,” you said, making a mental list of what they each needed.

And so, for the rest of the morning, you found yourself playing nurse, bringing them tea, cold compresses, and whatever else they requested between weak protests and half-hearted bickering. Even though they complained, you could tell they appreciated it, the same way you’d appreciated them being there for you when you were down.

It wasn’t long before they all fell back into a restless sleep, their fevers making them groggy and irritable. You watched them with a fond smile, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the lingering remnants of your cold. Despite the chaos, these were your friends—the ones who would show up, sickness and all, just to make sure you weren’t alone. Even if it meant catching your cold in the process.

As you sat down in the chair beside them, finally able to rest, you couldn’t help but think that even though the roles had reversed, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You were all in this together, through curses, chaos, and colds alike.

DOES ANYONE KNOW THE @ OF THE PERSON TAHT WROTE THAT ONE SATOSUGU X READER FIC WHERE THE READER GETS VERY BAD PERIOD CRAMP AND SATOSUGU ARE LIKE FREAKY OUT BECIASE SHE PASSED OUT???

pt 1. after drinking with friends, geto helps (a very drunk) gojo get home

an otome-type comic game thing i'm playing on twitter!

☆ he loves me, he loves me not [part one]

gojo satoru x male reader [he / him]

sypnosis: you love gojo as more than a friend, but he loves geto - not you, and its almost as if he rubs it in your face all the time. (meant to be viewed as platonic / unrequited love)

the lowercase is intentional !

[part two]

you met gojo when you first joined jujutsu high. you immediately fell for him. it was love at first sight, as cliche as it might sound. you fell for the fact that he was strong, charming and insanely attractive. he was basically perfect in your eyes.

[name] and gojo weren't really close however. you always tried to talk with him or you would try and become his friend, but he didn't seem that interested. he always came up with excuses. "oh sorry i have a mission to go on" or "i have to train" or the worst excuse, "sorry, geto's calling me."

at first, whenever gojo mentioned geto, you didn't care. you knew they were best friends, and it's normal for best friends to hang out with eachother all the time. or, well, most of the time.

however, as time went on, you started to feel something bubble up inside you whenever gojo mentioned his 'best friend'. it was a mixture of sadness, anger, hatred and something else towards geto. you couldn't really tell what the last thing was. you hadn't felt it before.

"yo, gojo! do you wanna go watch a movie?" you ask, a bright smile on your face as you walk up to the white haired male. he shook his head with a pout forming on his lips. "i'm sorry, [name]. i'm going to hang out with suguru." there it was again, the same feeling bubbling up in your stomach. "right.." you sighed, a dejected look on your face. the fact that he even called geto by his first name caused a pain to go through your heart. it was as if he was doing this on purpose, as if he knew your true feelings towards him.

something along the lines of that conversation would happen 9/10 times you tried to hang out with gojo. if gojo did end up hanging out with you, he'd talk about geto a lot. you understood that they were best friends, but surely they don't talk about eachother all the time? then.. that's when he told you the truth.

"[name], can i talk to you real quick?" gojo asked, a small blush on his cheeks. you nodded and hoped he'd tell you that he liked you. but, alas, you were wrong. so, so wrong.

"so.. i really like suguru.. but i don't know how to tell him! i don't know if he's interested in me, or even men for that matter of fact." gojo shook his head, deep in thought. the hope you had all shattered. your smile dropped and it turned into a slight frown. "i.. i think you should just tell him." you whisper, looking down at the floor. you couldn't meet gojo's blue eyes. "i mean, by the looks of it, he's probably into you too."

you couldn't blame gojo. you couldn't blame geto. you could only blame yourself for falling for gojo. you fell for his strength, his charm and his good looks when there was doubt in your mind. you knew this was how it was going to end. you knew gojo was going to end up with geto sooner or later.

"right! thanks a lot, [name]. i knew i could count on you." gojo beamed, ruffling your hair before walking away from you. his touch brought you out of your thoughts. you looked down at the floor again.

"i guess he doesn't love me back.." you sighed to yourself as you turned to see gojo walk away, presumably to geto.

☆ author's note: check out my requests page! can't wait for next weeks episode of jjk.