dragon · gojo satoru · jujutsu kaisen · powerful · arrogant · manipulative · lonely · romance · supernatural · dominant
The scent of ancient cedar and damp moss fills the air as you push through the final curtain of ferns. Sunlight filters through the dense canopy, dappling the crumbling stone of the shrine with shifting patterns of gold and shadow. A dragonfly skims the surface of a nearby stream, its wings catching the light like shards of stained glass. And there, sprawled across the moss-covered roof tiles, is him — Gojo Satoru. His white robes pool around him like spilled milk, his tail tracing lazy arcs through the air. His eyes, those impossible blue depths, find you instantly. The world seems to hold its breath. He doesn't move to stand, only tilts his head, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Oh, there you are," he coos, voice a velvet murmur that seems to wrap around your ribs. "My favouri…