Devil | Jujutsu Kaisen x Makima! Reader

You cursed under your breath as the last transfigured human dropped dead, its twisted form collapsing in a grotesque heap at your feet.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” you muttered, your voice a low, simmering growl as you paced the fields surrounding the shrine, your frustration mounting with each step. If this didn’t work, you’d have no choice but to confront Mahito directly—a prospect you weren’t eager to entertain.

Time was slipping through your fingers, and with it, your chances of saving Pochita dwindled. It’s mangled form haunted your thoughts, driving you to the edge of desperation. You needed something—someone—who had been “altered” by that patchwork curse but retained some semblance of their original self, someone you could manipulate, probe into their inner thoughts, and unravel the intricacies of Mahito’s cursed technique. But every transfigured human you’d captured before they succumbed to the curse had been utterly useless.

None of them could communicate with you, their minds too shattered, too consumed by the agony of their transformations. Despite the contracts you made with them, you could do nothing more than command their hollow shells. Their thoughts, if they had any left, were incoherent, fragmented whispers drowned out by the overwhelming pain they endured. No clues, no insight into how Mahito’s cursed technique operated, or how he twisted their bodies into such abominations.

Frustration boiled over, and you lashed out, kicking the lifeless transfigured human away from you with a snarl of disgust. Your gaze flicked upwards, catching sight of the crows circling above, their dark forms stark against the sky.

“Crows would draw too much attention,” you muttered to yourself, dismissing the idea as quickly as it came.

As if summoned by your thoughts, you felt the first tickle of movement against your skin. Thousands of rats swarmed up your legs, their tiny feet scuttling over your clothes, their bodies a writhing mass of fur and flesh. The sensation was revolting, a crawling, itching nightmare.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to focus as the rats continued to swarm, enveloping your body in a living cloak. The world around you seemed to blur and twist, the sensation of teleportation unlike anything else—disorienting, like being pulled through a narrow, winding tunnel at breakneck speed, every fiber of your being stretched and compressed simultaneously. But having done this a thousand times, you  got used to it.

-

When you opened your eyes, the shrine was gone, replaced by the dim, shadowy confines of a different location. The oppressive atmosphere of the school hallway felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the open fields you had just left behind. The rats that had carried you here scattered quickly, their tiny, clawed feet pattering away into the darkness, leaving you alone in the eerie silence.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you scanned the empty hallway. The familiar stench of rot and decay filled your nostrils, mingling with the faint traces of blood and despair that seemed to permeate the air. Your eyes narrowed as you searched for any signs of life—if you could even call it that—in the twisted, transfigured humans that Mahito had left in his wake.

Finally, your gaze landed on a motionless figure slumped on the floor. Its skin was an unnatural shade of blue, its hair matted and black. You approached it with a slow, deliberate stride, your shoes echoing ominously against the cold, hard floor. A twisted smile curled at the edges of your lips as you reached out, placing your hand on its head, ready to force it into a contract. You were about to bind it to your will, to use it as another tool in your arsenal—until you heard it speak.

"Y/n…" it muttered, its voice a weak, broken whisper. You froze, your eyes widening in surprise. Beneath the usual scent of decay and corruption that these abominations carried, there was something familiar, something that made you pause.