Chai

Fic: archiveofourown.org/works/779160...

Art By: @nerurrus.bsky.social

16 yr. Old Megumi doesn’t have time for distractions.
Between top grades, part-time jobs, and his sister’s mounting hospital bills, survival has become a carefully scheduled ritual.

Then, Gojo Satoru shows up.

五伏
sing me down into the dark

ALLGUMI SUper Mario AU

He tilted his head up, reading the glowing text hovering above them in cheerful font…

PLAYER 3—PRINCESS PEACH.

He looked back down at his reflection in a nearby pixelated pond.
Pink gown. Tiara. Sparkles. The world’s most soul-crushing shade of lipstick.

Gojo smiled, radiant and unbothered. “I didn’t decide.”

He gestured around them.

“The forest did.”

Silence.

Then, very quietly, the moss rearranged itself into a heart.

Megumi screamed.

Gojo opened one eye. “Ooo. Was that resistance? Because I think the forest counts it as foreshadowing.”

The magic settled.

Warm. Invasive. Annoyingly optimistic.

Megumi stared at the ancient oaks. “You cannot just decide a fae will love you.”

Every bird in the canopy collectively looked away like they’d seen this before.

Megumi’s wings flared. “NO!! absolutely not!! this is not a binding, this is not a vow, this is not....!”

“That means nothing.”

“It means everything,” Gojo said gently. “Also, you smiled.”

“I barred my teeth.”

“Semantics.”

The air shifted.

Roots crept.

The forest let out the softest, most exhausted sigh.

“You do not,” Megumi snapped, “need to believe it more.”

Gojo closed his eyes.

Megumi’s horror dawned in real time.

“Oh no.”

“I am very charming,” Gojo murmured. “I’m funny. I’m resilient. I don’t die easily. You laughed at my jokes.”

He paused.

Then, with heartfelt sincerity, said, “You’re definitely going to fall in love with me.”

Nothing happened.

Megumi crossed his arms. “See? The forest didn’t react.”

Gojo tilted his head. “Hmm. Maybe I need to believe it more.”

“No.”

“if I said you were going to fall in love with me--”

Megumi stopped laughing.

The forest stopped humming.

A leaf froze mid-fall.

“I will absolutely not,” Megumi said flatly. “That is not how fae work.”

Gojo nodded, serene. “Right. Of course. Totally. I get it.”

Megumi was still laughing when Gojo straightened, dusting off his knees like he’d just solved a puzzle.

“Okay,” Gojo said thoughtfully. “So if the forest believes things hard enough…”

Megumi’s laugh cut sharp. “No.”

Gojo ignored him. “Then hypothetically-purely hypothetically

Gojo’s grin widened... it looked feral... delighted.

“Oh,” he said softly. “Is that how this works?”

Megumi felt it then.

That sinking, ancient dread. He had not been outsmarted.

He had been out-chaosed.

And gods help him...

…he was laughing.

Say what?”

“That you are a dragon.”

Gojo blinked. “Why?”

Megumi smiled. It was sharp. Predatory. Fae-perfect.
“Because if you say it one more time, and believe it just enough...”
The forest hummed.

“...the rules might decide you’re right.”

“I have spent centuries,” he snarled, magic crackling around him, “studying the precise art of deception, and you...you....are dismantling it by being an idiot.”

Gojo beamed. “Talent.”

Megumi glared at him. Then, softly, dangerously:
“…Say it again.”

Megumi stopped, horrified, as the forest leaned in.

The magic stirred. The rules flexed.

Gojo grinned up at him. “See? You’re thinking about it too.”

Megumi swore in Sylvan Fae Language.

Megumi stared.

Several seconds passed.

“…You cannot just declare yourself a dragon.”

“Why not?” Gojo said, still on all fours. “You lot do it all the time.”

“We do not---”

“Fine,” Megumi growled. “Another.”

Gojo thought for a second. “Okay. I’m… a dragon.”

Megumi exploded. “NO, YOU’RE NOT!!!!”

Gojo immediately dropped to the ground and made a very unconvincing roaring noise.

“Huh. You seem pretty confident about that.”

“That is because it is observable reality.”

Gojo leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially. “But how do you know? What if I’m purple on the inside?”

Megumi hissed. Literally hissed, and the leaves shook.

Megumi pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d dealt with demons smarter than this man.

“Fine,” Megumi snapped. “Tell me something true.”

Gojo brightened. “I’m bright purple.”

Megumi stared at him.

“You are,” Megumi said slowly, “tragically not.”

“Nope!” Gojo replied, popping the P. “I just say things that aren’t true.”

Megumi froze.

“…That,” he said carefully, “is lying.”

“No, see,” Gojo wagged a finger. “Lying is intent. I’m just vibing.”

Megumi folded his arms, wings twitching faintly at his back.“State your purpose, human.”

“Oh,” Gojo said easily. “I’m here to trade.” A pause as Gojo took him in from head to foot, then a playful smile on his lips "and offer my hand."

Megumis eyes narrowed. “Human, stop lying

And then there was Gojo Satoru.

A human.

Standing in the middle of Megumi’s forest. Uninvited. Smiling.

“Wow,” Gojo said, craning his neck. “Your woods are super spooky. Very 💕 murder 💕. ”

Megumi had mastered glamour, implication, omission, half-promises, wordplay so sharp it could slit an iron contract in half. Kings had knelt confused before him. Witches triple-checked their wards after speaking to him. Other fae avoided eye contact.

fae Megumi x Human Gojo #gofushi
art by: @nerurrus.bsky.social

Megumi Fushiguro had spent six hundred and forty-three years perfecting deception.

Not lying.
Never lying.
No, fae didn’t lie.

They reframed truth until it wept.

What begins as predator and prey becomes something gentler, stranger, and far more dangerous: love. And when Megumi finally grows old and dies, Gojo defies the laws of both worlds to bind their souls together forever...choosing eternity not as a monster… but as a husband.

Yet Megumi’s blood carries an ancient legacy...one that stabilizes what should not exist.

Gojo is not truly blind...he sees the world through threads of perception, able to twist what people believe into reality itself. He is an immortal being who escaped a realm between life and death… and Megumi was never meant to be a guest, but a meal.

But slowly, the truth unravels: every doll on the shelf is someone Gojo once met. Some were friends. Some were victims. All are bound by something far older than death.

He carves his own companions...Kuro and Shiro...and jokingly makes tiny dolls of himself for Gojo. Gojo treasures them more than he should.

His house is hidden far from the village, avoided by everyone, yet impossibly warm inside. Shelves are lined with exquisite dolls that feel… alive.

Megumi stays as a lodger, helping Gojo with chores and learning the ancient art of dollmaking.