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Fanart for @rk0000008 for their fic helping the world via murder, a guide by your local reformed terrorist. Gojo really has me converted to his theory that I began to believe just a bit😭 so this is my take of Kakashi in Gojo's brain. Excuse the Icha Icha, i just had to slip it in. It was practically his trademark already orz
Obito did not give Hatake Kakashi his eye to make him the strongest, he gave Hatake Kakashi his eye so Hatake Kakashi could continue to be his imperfect, perfect self.
-Ch. 65
God, I am sooo invested in Kakaobi love story Gojo's brain spawned. Give this fic a chance because it is a GEM!!!
You're a non-sorcerer. He can't just tell you about cursed spirits and everything. You'd freak out. Your whole world, your whole life, it would be scarier for you to go about your life knowing they were there when you couldn't see them.
Sometimes he remembers, though. That you have an ex. Options. A whole life outside of him.
Maybe it would be good if you were scared. Living in constant fear of an invisible terror you couldn't fight or detect in any way. Worrying over every shadow and creak in the night.
Wondering if something was really out there this time. If what he'd told you about was finally coming to get you.
Wishing, praying, wanting nothing more than for him to be here with you right in this moment.
It makes his chest feel warm, pants tight. The thought of you curled up in terror under your bedsheets, shivering and crying and waiting for him to come save you.
But he's good, so good. He doesn't tell you about any of that.
SLAP!
"FUCK you, Gojo! You lying piece of shit!"
Of course, it did lead to times like this. A mission running late - they were already ridiculous with their hours - and no good explanation from him on why.
"Babe," Satoru cups his stinging cheek as he speaks, "I swear, it's just work. There's no one else."
He'd long since mastered the art of a perfect pleading tone, of having big, wide eyes that draw you in. It's hard for you to look away from his face, even now, enraptured as you are infuriated.
"Then where the FUCK were you?!" It's a wet scream, full of raw-throated fury, and all the tears he knows you're swallowing.
He's so hard it hurts. The slap. The rage. The desperation. He's throbbing.
Satoru's never wanted to fuck you more. Never wanted to kiss away the tears he knows you're too proud and angry to cry. Never wanted to feel you slap him again, and again, even lower, on his dick -
SLAP!
"Gojo? Are you fucking listening?"
God, you care so fucking much. He's throbbing.
"Babe," His eyes well up, lip bitten, lashes lowered as he bows his head, "I'm sorry - I'm so sorry. I was wrong, I was bad. Forgive me, baby, I'll make it up to you..."
He closes in, step by step. And you let him. You do. It's intoxicating, makes his chest soar, how you stare daggers at him but don't back away.
SLAP!
This time when your hand hits his face he groans, lashes fluttering. There's a wet spot on his pants now, leaking precum all over.
If you hit him again he might just cum his pants. Whoops.
Your hand swings through the air -
Satoru catches it, though. Like he could have the first three times.
He knows how to placate you. Always does. On his knees, with big, wide eyes, sweet words. Whispered promises, swearing over and over again.
Wrapping his arms around your legs, nuzzling at your groin. Lurid eyes whispering for permission, fingers tugging at your hem.
Hands fist in his hair, and he knows to hurry. To sate you.
And he does. Mouth wide and ravenous over your thigh. Sucking and biting like he wants to claim you; see, I've marked you too. It's okay. Mark me up some more.
Satoru lurches into your cunt, just to feel your fist pull his hair harder. The unmistakable scent of your arousal on his nose - but then, at this point you were conditioned to it.
He makes you angry. You lash out. He rewards your bad behavior with his tongue on your sex, sucking and lapping loudly, enthusiastically. Moaning into it when you tug his hair, whimpering.
By heart he knows that special squeeze, the way you tense when you're close, how your clit seems to twitch against him. It's second nature to wrap his lips around it, soft, enveloping, suckle gentle pressure until you're shuddering and squeezing and panting out your release.
You always come down from your high at least a little placated. His arms cling to your hips like he's the one afraid of being left, like a man drowning at sea.
Like a lamb to the knife, eager and offering. You can't be satisfied with just that, right? He has to give you more.
Steps stumbling to the bed. Maybe he lifts you, maybe not.
There's words - so many words - how he loves you, how you feel good, how every moment without you is torture and he hates being apart as much as you do.
It's not even a lie. Not that you buy it, anyways.
None of it matters. All that matters is the feeling of your skin against his, hot flesh slapping against flesh. Sinking himself into the warm embrace of your cunt, wet and slick and welcoming him home.
This is where he belongs. You know it, he knows it, and better than knowing it - you feel it.
In every thrust, in every squeeze of his hands over your skin, in his roaming lips and biting teeth.
The heat, the sting, the pressure, the pull. His voice in your ears. His taste on your tongue. Every sensation that slowly drowns to the rising tide of pleasure, to clever fingers that play with your clit as he pumps in and out and in again.
Satoru knows your body like his own. Where to touch to get the loudest moans. How fast you like it, what angle. When to speed up.
He can always make you feel better. Make you feel good. Because he loves you, and while you'd doubt his words, you can't doubt his body.
Oh, yes. It's always so easy to distract you by slipping his shirt off, letting you stare at the same powerful, lean form he uses to make love to you.
No matter how mad you are - screaming, crying, slapping or hitting - you never tell him no.
You always accept him. You take whatever you can get, furious and desperate and oh so hungry for even scraps.
This is the love that Satoru Gojo recognizes. It fits in his heart like a lock in a key.
He knows it so well. The fear of being left behind. The daunting reality of a life without the one you love. A life where your loved one could even turn against you. Love someone else.
Your love is shaped so perfectly for him. He can't even bring himself to question it.
Every harsh word, every strike confirms it. Sometimes your eyes linger on his cheek. Where you've bruised him, or left his skin red. Heavy with guilt.
Satoru does his best to reassure you. It's not like it hurts. It's proof that you love him. His body belongs to you, anyways, you can mark it up however you want.
He says the words to you then, because he believes them, because what you need then is comfort, reassurance.
Later, you'll remember him saying it didn't really hurt and think it was a pity. You'll seethe. Because what is the point of striking him, in your rage, if not to make him hurt like you do?
You'll feel bad about that, too, he's sure.
That's what love is. Pain. Guilt. Desire. And the euphoric pleasure of knowing, despite it all, you'll still be waiting for him at the end of the day.
It's not his fault he only knows how to love this way. This is what love has always been like.
Years ago, Gojo Satoru watched his closest friend—his everything—die in his arms. The grief shattered him, pushing him to become the strongest sorcerer, a lone god among men. But when he unexpectedly sees you—alive, breathing, and unchanged—his carefully controlled world spirals into chaos.
The first time Gojo saw you die, something inside him shattered.
He had always been fast—too fast, but not that day. That day, he was too slow.
One moment, you were standing beside him, teasing him like you always did. The next, blood was pooling beneath you, your body limp in his arms. His hands pressed against the wound, shaking, desperate.
“Stay with me” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Don’t do this to me.”
But no matter how much power he had, no matter how much he begged, you still slipped away.
And Gojo, the strongest, realized something terrifying that day.
Without you, strength meant nothing.
Years passed, but the nightmares never did.
He stopped visiting your grave. What was the point? You weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere. Just a memory, a cruel trick time played on him. No soul left to sense, no cursed energy to trace. Just a void where you used to be.
Then, one night, under the dim glow of a streetlamp, he saw you.
And the world tilted on its axis.
You were laughing softly, eyes bright, standing just a few feet away. The same face. The same voice. The same presence he had lost all those years ago.
His Six Eyes burned as he focused on you—on your soul.
It was you.
Not an illusion. Not a trick.
You.
His breath hitched, fingers twitching at his sides. A thousand emotions surged through him at once—rage, confusion, relief—but one thought drowned out the rest.
You lied.
And Gojo Satoru did not take betrayal lightly.
Hours later, you walked alone through the quiet streets, your bag slung over your shoulder.
The night was crisp, and after the farewell party with your friends, exhaustion weighed on you. You had finally left your old life behind. No more sorcerers. No more Jujutsu battles. No more him.
At least, that’s what you thought.
Then, the air changed.
Before you could react, a hand covered your mouth, an arm wrapped around your waist, and the world snapped into darkness.
When you woke up, the scent of concrete and old wood filled your nose. A dim light flickered above you, casting long, eerie shadows. Your wrists were bound to the arms of a chair—tight enough to keep you still but loose enough not to hurt.
A slow, familiar chuckle sent a shiver down your spine.
“Rise and shine, sweetheart.”
Your heart stopped.
Gojo stood in front of you, blindfold gone, Six Eyes glowing as he leaned down, his face mere inches from yours. His expression was unreadable, too calm, too controlled.
You swallowed hard. “Satoru—”
He clicked his tongue. “Toru” he corrected, voice almost playful. “You used to call me Toru, remember?”
You stayed silent.
His fingers ghosted over your cheek, his touch feather-light yet suffocating. “You died” he whispered, his tone soft but laced with something sharp. “I felt you die. And yet… here you are.”
Your pulse pounded against your skin.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured: “Start talking, love. Why did you leave me?”
Your breath hitched. His voice was low, smooth, but it carried an edge so sharp it could cut through bone.
You turned your head away, refusing to meet his gaze. “Let me go, Satoru.”
A slow, dark chuckle escaped his lips.
“There it is. That defiance,” he mused, tilting your chin back toward him with two fingers. “I wondered if you’d changed after all these years. Guess not.”
His Six Eyes flickered, scanning every inch of you—your trembling fingers, the tension in your jaw, the way your pulse pounded in your throat. You weren’t afraid. No, this wasn’t fear.
It was guilt.
Gojo’s grip on your chin tightened just slightly. “You faked your death” he said, the words more statement than question. “Why?”
You clenched your teeth. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
You swallowed hard. The weight of the past, of everything you left behind, pressed against your ribs like a vice.
“You needed me to be dead.”
Silence.
Gojo didn’t move, but something in his expression darkened. “Excuse me?”
You took a shaky breath. “You needed something to break you, Satoru. Something to push you past your limits. You needed pain, real pain, so you’d become strong enough to protect everyone else. If I had stayed… you wouldn’t be who you are now.”
For a moment, the only sound in the room was your own breathing.
Then—
Laughter.
Cold, bitter laughter that sent chills down your spine.
Gojo straightened, running a hand through his hair. “That’s your reason?” His voice dripped with something almost hysterical. “You let me rot in grief? You chose to make me suffer?”
Tears stung your eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be forever! I planned to come back—”
“Then why didn’t you?”
His voice cracked.
Your lips parted, but no words came.
Because you had seen it.
The way he had changed. The man who once stood beside you, carefree and untouchable, had become something else. A god among sorcerers. The strongest. A man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
You had done this to him. And by the time you realized it, it was too late.
“I was going to” you whispered. “But you didn’t need me anymore.”
Gojo went still.
Then, in a blink, he was in front of you again, both hands gripping the arms of your chair, caging you in. “You don’t get to decide that” he murmured, voice dangerously soft.
Your heart pounded.
“You think I needed to break?” His lips curled into something that wasn’t a smile. “You think I needed to lose you to become stronger?”
You flinched.
Gojo exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “Damn it…” His hands lifted, resting on either side of your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. “If you had just told me—if you had just stayed—I still would’ve become the strongest.”
His fingers tightened slightly.
“But at least I wouldn’t have been alone.”
For the first time since waking up in this room, you saw it—the raw, unfiltered agony behind his glowing eyes. The pain you had left him with.
You opened your mouth, but he spoke first.
“It doesn’t matter now.” His voice was quieter, but no less intense. “You’re here. And I’m not letting you leave again.”
Your stomach dropped. “Satoru—”
His lips brushed against your forehead—gentle, fleeting. But when he pulled back, the look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.
Thinking about Yandere Gojo that the clan is worried about not being able to control. To make him settle down they arrange for him to be married. Choosing a cold, mellow women that they believe will blend into the background and not cause any trouble for them but root him to the clan.
What they didn't account for was how attached Gojo would get to you. To finally have someone in that house to call his own. How much it would distance him from them when he had someone to be his family, wanting to take you away all for himself. Somewhere you both would see only one another and no one would see you or speak to you. No one to keep him from you.
Wordcount: 6k+
Notes: Not canon compliant and contains both yandere and violent behaviour.
The clan had chosen you on purpose despite the fact that you were no match for your so called husband. Not in looks, not in family, not in wealth and certainly not in power.
Your husband was a man renown far and wide for his power. Tall and broad with a face that would have women falling at his feet. Your aunt had informed you that they had gotten much more prestigious matches for him but had come to your uncle seeking your hand.
You didn't know why they had chosen you until you had overheard one of the women of the clan explaining to her maid that they had chosen a cold, passionless little thing like you to ensure no one could use their daughter's influence over Gojo to lure him away from their clan. You would provide just enough roots to ensure Gojo wouldn't leave, he wasn't one to abandon his own but they couldn't have him falling in love. A man in love was a dangerous thing.
The man himself frightened you at first, so large and imposing with otherworldly eyes. Your grandmother had always warned you about men who had everything, said they were never satisfied.
Your aunt and uncle though they had treated you fairly well after your parents' passing - had in the end done you wrong. You wish you had been allowed to marry a man who was more on par with you, not someone so above you that you couldn't even possibly be upset if he went out and slept with other women every night.
Despite his giant rough hands, his fingers touched you gently. Consummating your union in a way that caused you as little pain as possible despite his abnormally large size though you had nothing to compare it to. His gentle reassurances when your hands shook and tender touches weren't what bothered you. You had been made aware that a couple had to consummate on the night of the wedding but it was those eyes that unnerved you. Taking in every little twitch of movement, every expression that flitted across your face and any sound he managed to elicit from you despite you trying to hold them in.
To your surprise he returned to your chamber every night though you were well aware that couples of his clan's standing generally had separate beds. You had heard that men of his caliber had high libidos though they didn't necessarily always go to their wives to satiate their needs. The friends of your aunts complaining about how selfish men could be in bed when they thought you were out of earshot but it seemed your husband was neither selfish nor a debaucher.
He seemed to put your pleasure above his own. Somehow knowing exactly where to touch you and how even better than you yourself did. Taking you to heights you didn't know were possible but it wasn't all physical. He would show up periodically during the day just to sit across from you and watch as you read. Only on occasion interrupting to ask what you were reading about. Accompanying you on strolls around the garden until he was called away.
You weren’t bad looking, but no one would call you a beauty. It made no sense to you why he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you. Intelligent enough but not really a wit. How he hung off of every word you said was beyond you. Sighing as though truly annoyed when called away from your side. Pressing a kiss to your forehead or stroking his large finger down your cheek reverently as though wanting just one more touch before being away from you.
It all seemed too good to be true. A husband entirely devoted to you. A household so wealthy you didn’t have to lift a finger. The wealth you had been expecting when the alliance was arranged but Gojo’s behaviour still perplexed you. You had heard of men who fell wildly in love. Their affections fiercely passionate but short-lived, attention flitting from woman to woman once they had their fill. Leaving a trail of broken hearts in their wake. Your husband must have been that sort too.
The days passed and you waited for the tides to turn. For him to grow distant, for you to become another forgotten relic in the house but if anything his attentions grew more marked. He’d sneak into the library where you spent most of your time, taking you by the hand and pulling you along to another part of the house or gardens where his men wouldn't think to look for him.
Today he had chosen a parlour in a wing of the house that anyone seldom went to. Laying with his head in your lap, the long expanse of him stretched across the floor. Seemingly content to just gaze up at you as you read your book. Your back leant against the wall.
In the first days of your marriage it had been very difficult to concentrate with him staring at you the way he did, those vibrant blue eyes impossible to ignore. Now you grew more used to it and were able to continue reading while he watched you. Your hand was enveloped in one of his large ones and you glanced down to him from your book as he brought it to his fluffy white mop of hair.
You bit the inside of your mouth to hide your smile at the surprisingly childish action and began carding your fingers through his soft hair as you returned to your reading. But not before catching the way the tops of his pale cheeks turned pink, full lips turning up hopelessly into a smile far too besotted to be aimed at someone like you by someone like him.
"Will you read to me?" Your husband asked and you glanced down to him, surprised by the request since he had never asked you to do so before. You had also never seen him pick up one of the books himself though the mistress of the house had told you Gojo had read all of the books in the library while giving you a tour.
"I miss your voice." He mumbled grabbing your hand from his hair and pressing a kiss to your palm.
"Of course Gojo san." You responded obligingly.
"Satoru." He said before you could begin to read aloud, making you pause.
"Please call me Satoru my darling. There is no one in this world closer to me than you, if my own beloved wife addresses me as formally as the rest do then I'll feel very lonely." Your husband said and though you had promised yourself to keep your heart guarded, not wanting to be heartbroken when he inevitably lost interest in you - his words still touched your heart. Making it clench in sympathy for the man who despite seeming to have it all had no one before you to call his own, much like you.
"Alright Satoru." You said, his hand squeezing around yours reflexively as though startled by the sound of his name on your lips though he was the one to have asked you to say it.
"Again." He pleaded, staring at your with his impossibly blue eyes wide and beseeching in a way you were not cruel enough to ignore.
You indulged him and he pressed another kiss to your palm. Breathing in the scent of your skin, his eyes falling shut. You took that as your cue to begin to read.
Hours seemed to pass as you read to your husband, though it could have felt that way to you due to the pins and needles running up and down your legs. Gojo seemed to have fallen asleep a while back and knowing how early he rose every day, you were reluctant to risk waking him by moving.
You continued reading aloud until you heard the sound of footsteps rushing down the hall and the call of your husband's name. Unsure of what to do, whether to wake him or not considering he was the one to have chosen to hide here. Your moment of indecision passing as you both were discovered. The men catching sight of the both of you as they rushed down the hall and skidding to a stop.
"Gojo san we've been looking all over for you." They said, bowing to you without lifting their gaze from the ground. You thought you would have to shake him awake and glanced down to your lap, surprised to see your husband's blue eyes open and narrowed at the men.
He rose to his feet in a fluid motion and turned to you, holding both hands out to you. You placed your hands in his, allowing him to tug you up. Your numb legs nearly buckling under your weight but your husband caught you by the elbows, pulling you in so you were leant against his strong frame. You tried to right yourself, embarrassed to be in such an intimate position while in company but your husband tightened his grip.
"Go on, I'll be there in a moment." Gojo said, voice stern in a way you had never heard it before. You only realized then how different he sounded when he spoke to you, always making an effort to gentle his voice.
"I should be able to make it back in time for supper but don't wait if I get late. Can't have my lovely wife fainting." The man said, stroking his thumb over the apple of your cheek.
"I will, please do not worry about me. They must be waiting for you, you should go Gojo san." You said unthinkingly, the soft reverent expression on his face dropping at the formal address.
He stooped down, wrapping an arm behind your knees and the other around your waist, hoisting you up into his arms making you gasp.
"Gojo san what are you-" You started, only realizing your error when his eyes flashed to you.
"Satoru please put me down, you'll be late." You muttered hurriedly, eyes widening in panic as the man began walking out of the room.
"Satoru please, someone will see." You said again, glancing around to ensure the guards had left.
"No one would dare look at my wife." The man said, none of his usual good humour colouring his voice making you realize he was quite serious. Perhaps he was used to this sort of treatment, having grown up as revered as an emperor but you certainly weren't and you doubted the same courtesies would be extended to you.
"I can walk, really." You said voice growing higher in worry as he neared the main hall of the house where people were sure to be.
"Your legs fell asleep because of me, I ought to take responsibility." He said, lips twisted up into a smirk as he glanced down at you.
"They're fine now. Please Gojo San." You said, squirming in his arms but he only tightened his hold.
You ducked your head into his chest as you caught sight of a maid, hiding childishly in your embarassment. Satisfaction practically emanating off your husband at your actions.
You tightened your hand in his collar, squeezing your eyes shut and keeping your face pressed into his strong, broad chest. Hopefully no one would notice it was you and think instead the man was carrying a conquest back to his chamber.
Unable to see your surroundings you didn't notice as the mistress of the manor caught sight of both of you, dropping the laces she held in her hand at seeing the way Gojo carried you through the house. Holding you clutched tightly to his chest like you were too precious to let your feet touch the ground.
From then on she stopped leaving you to your devices. Preoccupying you in silly household tasks that she was normally proud to oversee herself in an attempt to keep you away from Gojo.
He would find time between his own work to seek you out, backing you into an alcove and kissing you desperately as though he hadn't seen you in days instead of having risen from the same bed that very morning. Sometimes lowering himself to his knees before you, pressing his ear to your chest and listening to the solid drumming of your heartbeat. Arms wrapped around your waist keeping you close and urging you to run your fingers through his hair.
You would have to convince him gently to let you go, reminding him you had tasks to get to while he had his own work. Bargaining with him that you would try to return to your chambers earlier that night or rise late the next morning in an attempt to get him to release you.
It was months into your marriage before you were asked to accompany Gojo to an event. Gojo hadn't seemed thrilled about taking you but you guessed that was due to your more mediocre background. You couldn't expect him to be proud to show off before others that his wife was of such humble origins in comparison to himself. Having no idea that it was because he despised the thought of others laying their eyes on you. Outsiders getting to take up your attention and speak to you.
You normally insisted on dressing yourself, not having had a personal maid in your aunt's house but for that night you allowed your maids to dress you. Letting them style your hair as they saw fitting. For the first time since you had arrived reaching for the jewelry drawers your room had come stocked with. Selecting an elegant set of pearls to adorn your neck and ears so you would at least somewhat look the part of your new status.
Your husband had come into the room, more handsome than ever in a black kimono that emphasized the broadness of his shoulders and made him look more imposing than ever. It almost made you question if you had imagined the times the man would beg you to play with his hair or stay just a moment longer with him.
His gaze locked on your reflection and he wondered closer as though in a trance. Leaning down to where you sat before the mirror, head close to yours as he trailed his fingers over the pearls adorning your lovely throat. Both loving the way they looked on you but hating that it attracted more attention to your pretty neck and collarbone.
"Do I look alright?" You asked, fingers rising to touch your necklace and ensure it was in place. Pretty eyes watching him anxiously in the mirror and he was sorely tempted to call off the whole night at the thought of those eyes on another.
"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Your husband murmured and you breathed out a worried exhale. Had he told you something as simple as stating that you had dressed appropriately for the occasion, it would have helped ease your anxiety much more than his usual flattery that you never could bring yourself to believe.
"When are we leaving?" You asked.
"Maybe never, wouldn't it be nicer to spend the night in the garden? You can gaze all you want at that moon you are so fond of and I can look my fill of you."
"Gojo san you joke too much. Are we to leave soon?" You asked, the hand he rested on your chair clenching at you calling him by his last name. Though you had taken to calling him by his first name in private, if anyone at all was present then you referred to him by last name as though intentionally distancing yourself from him. He was so proud to belong to you, he wished you would stake your claim on him before all to see.
"I never joke when it comes to you."
"I was told it's very important for us to attend tonight, your family wants to form an alliance with this clan and it would show our goodwill." You said.
"My family is you but yes it is important for the clan. We'll leave as soon as you are ready." Gojo said, standing up to his full height.
The maid waiting by the dresser to approach finally came forward. Her hand reaching for your hair where a strand had come undone from the neat updo.
The young woman froze when ice blue eyes flashed to her, pinning her in place. The man gestured his head so subtly at the door that you didn't even notice him silently ordering the maid to leave, too busy smoothing down your own kimono.
The maid hurried out of the room, forgoing even grabbing the basket of hair pins and oils she had brought along with her in her haste to get away. So incredibly relieved that the man hadn't come in while she and the others had been dressing you. If he looked as though he might break her hand for reaching for your hair she shuddered to think what he might do if he caught her near your unclothed form.
Gojo tenderly grabbed the lock of your hair from where it fell against the curve of your cheek, brushing it back into the updo and securing it with one of the pins. Unable to resist pressing a kiss to your soft cheek, losing himself in the sweet scent of you and the feel of your skin, brushing kisses down to the exposed curve of your neck.
"Gojo san we should go." You said and he sighed, pressing his lips to your clothed shoulder before pulling back. It seemed his wife had the most impeccable self-control. A trait he seemed to lack entirely when it came to you.
He held your hand zealously the whole way there, the both of you riding separately from the others in the house. Eyes on you as you looked out the window. The closer you two got to the home of the clan where the event was taking place, the more anxious he got.
He knew what these events were like, men on the prowl for pretty young things to coax into a dark corner alone. Taking their hands in their own and pressing kisses in an attempt to fluster them upon greeting. The way they stood so overly close and found any excuse they could to touch.
You had his utmost trust, he knew you wouldn't betray him but it was all those bastards he worried about. He often spent these events forced into conversation after conversation with old geezers trying to see if he really lived up to his reputation or if they could take advantage of his young age and leech something off of him. The thought of not being there to stop anyone's advances on you worried him.
Tempted to tell the driver to turn back to the house or better yet leave the driver by the side of the road and take you somewhere far where no one would know who the two of you were. He could build you a little house for the both of you to live in together, tending to your every need himself. Finally be able to spend every moment with you as he so wished to, feeling a physical ache in his chest when he was away from you.
Before he could act on those fantasies the driver was pulling up to the gates and being ushered in by their gateman. A doorman arriving at your door but Gojo threw open his own door before the cretin could make a move to open your door and offer you his hand.
Crossing over to your side, the doorman went stumbling back as he caught sight of the tall imposing figure with blazing blue eyes descending on him like some sort of avenging angel. Gojo pulled open your door, holding his hand out to you and you placed your delicate hand in his. Stepping out and allowing him to lead you past the doorman. Gojo's stomach twisting as you offered a small smile to the man who bid you both to have a pleasant evening.
Your smiles should only be for him but he couldn't bring himself to say anything to his darling. It wasn't your fault you were so polite and sweet. He loved that about you but wanted to keep all your sweetness to himself.
You both walked into the main hall, almost every head there turning to look at you both. You tried to keep your head high, not used to so much attention. Your husband wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side making you feel a bit less anxious.
You responded courteously to all those that came to greet you both. Able to decipher the looks on people's faces as befuddlement over why the wife of the powerful Satoru Gojo was someone so ordinary. You had never been fond of these events but all this attention and the reminders in their stares that you didn't belong next to a man like Gojo made you hate this one more than all others.
You had been filled with relief when your husband denied any requests to speak to him privately. Seeming to others as though joking about not wanting to leave his wife all alone when he was actually quite serious. However the reassurance of his presence couldn't be depended on forever. Eventually he was forced to leave your side as the head of the clan asked to speak with him.
"Stay right here okay darling? I'll be back as quick as I can." Gojo said, looking as though he wanted to say much more but was forced to turn away when his name was called again.
You tried not to let the unease show on your face as he continued to glance back at you as he moved through the crowd. So easily discernible amongst the people not only due to his formidable size but the unmistakable white hair and blue eyes standing out from all the others.
You sipped on the drink your husband had handed to you, trying to look less alone and uncomfortable than you felt. There was no one you knew here. The people you had known growing up in your aunt's home did not move in the same circles as people from Gojo's clan did.
The wife of another clan's head wandered over to you a couple minutes into you standing there. Making idle chatter, dark eyes trying to pierce through you to see if you really were as clueless to the clan's activities as you seemed to be. Eventually giving up and extending an invitation for tea that neither she nor you ever expected to be taken up.
You downed your drink in one go when she finally left. "Can I get you a refill?" a male voice asked from behind making you turn to look at a dark haired man in a silver kimono giving you a charming smile. Though no man's looks compared to your husband's.
"No, I'm not much of a drinker. Thank you though." You responded.
"Well I could get you something without alcohol then. You look a bit overheated." The man said, reaching for the paper fan you held clutched in your hand but his wrist was gripped in a vice grip before he could.
"What do you think you're doing putting your hands on my wife?" Gojo asked, stepping in between the man and you, forcing you to take a step back. His voice deadly calm but as you peeked around his shoulder to explain you were taken aback by the look on his face. Strong jaw clenched to the point where it looked painful, lips twisted into a sneer and the most frightening of all was his eyes. The blue blazing like fire that threatened to consume everything in its path.
"G-Gojo san the man was only trying to help me with my fan." You said, hesitantly resting your hand on his arm to get him to release the man's arm which he still held in a vice grip. Judging by the pained look on the man's face he was close to causing some serious damage.
"Gojo san please accept my apologies. I hadn't known she was your wife." The man pleaded, a pained sound escaping him as Gojo tightened his grip upon hearing the man's words.
He had been so foolish to leave you alone in the midst of vultures. One had swooped in and had the audacity now to admit his intentions hadn't been as innocent as his poor naive wife believed by defending himself using his ignorance of you belonging to Gojo.
"I am very sorry ma'am." The man said to you, a scream escaping his lips as a loud crack was heard and the man fell to his knees.
"How dare you speak to her?" Your husband asked and you watched in horror as he tossed aside the man's now obviously broken wrist. The man's face turning red and tears streaming down his face as he cradled his hand to his chest.
No one in the room daring to move a muscle to help the man. Gojo turned to you and you couldn't help yourself when those otherworldly blue eyes faced you, instinctively stumbling back a step. You didn't recognize this man. This was not the man who pleaded you for another kiss, blushed when you touched him first and spent his days following you around. In his place was a god of destruction. Vastly powerful and lacking mercy.
Those unnerving eyes flitted down to your feet before darting back up to yours. Gojo grabbed for your hand and you let him pull you along behind him through the hall, tugging on your hand firmly when you turned back to glance at the man still on his knees in the middle of the crowd. Almost disbelieving that what you had witnessed had really taken place.
Your teeth chattered as you were pulled outside without your coat that had been taken from you upon entering. Gojo shrugged off the outer layer of his kimono, draping it gently over your shoulders. You flinched instinctively, still too caught up in the ease with which he had wielded such terrible violence.
He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, bending to bury his face in your hair making you freeze up. Clutching you tightly the way he usually did but for once instead of seeming endearing it felt constraining. Those arms you considered big and strong enough to protect now trapping you to him.
"Please don't be afraid of me. Not you, I wouldn't be able to bear it." He begged and you were torn in indecision. Your horror at his terrible violence over something so trivial warring with the fondness you had come to feel for him.
"I don't understand Gojo san. Why did you-" You cut yourself off unable to bring yourself to voice what he had done.
"I can't stand the thought of anyone else laying a hand on you. That bastard - when I saw him reaching out to you, the way he was looking at you, I lost it." Your husband said, the disgust palpable in his voice.
The driver came running over from where he had been waiting off to the side and opened up the door for the both of you to get in. You gently pushed Gojo's arms from your waist, ducking down to get into the car and scooting to the furthest end. Your husband following you in and sitting down in the middle seat right next to you though you wished that he would give you some space.
He was your husband however and your aunt had drilled into you the lesson that you should do your best to overlook any flaws he had. Though she had been hinting at infidelity or a nasty temper you tried to use those words to push the cold dread seeping into your veins at having to go home with this man away.
"Say something." He pleaded, grabbing your hand in his. Your hand twitching in his grasp as the image of the way he had mercilessly crushed that man's wrist flitted to the forefront of your mind but you managed to keep from pulling away.
"I don't think you needed to hurt him. He was only trying to help me with my fan." You said, keeping your eyes straight ahead on the seat in front of you.
"You're too innocent my darling. You don't understand what's on the minds of men like that. The fan was merely an excuse to get close to you, to touch you." Gojo said, voice turning into more of a snarl as he lost himself in thoughts about what could have happened had he not broken free of the old man to get back to you.
You stayed silent for the rest of the drive, allowing him to keep your hand in his. Changing out of your garments and removing your makeup and jewelry when you returned home yourself, refusing the help of the maids.
Your husband watched anxiously from where he sat on the bed as you carefully removed your accessories and set them back in their places. Heart drumming in his chest as thoughts of you rejecting him overwhelmed him. You lay down on your side of the bed and he hurriedly pushed off the layers he wore before getting into the covers next to you.
Hands reaching out with a hesitance they had never had before and slowly pulling you towards him. Heart swelling in his chest when you came willingly, allowing him to hold you close to himself as he did every night. A rush of relief making his tense muscles go boneless, the feverish anxiety he felt ebbing away. He pressed his lips to your temple, attempting to wordlessly express how grateful he was to you for not pushing him away.
Gojo breathed in your scent greedily and clutched you as tightly as he dared, mindful not to cause his darling any pain. Wishing he could just open up his ribcage and put you inside, safe and sound resting close to his heart where you belong.
The gratitude for how understanding and patient you were making tears swell in his eyes. He buried his face in your now open hair, wanting to get even closer. As though you could sense what he was thinking you opened your arms to him. He latched onto you tightly, feverishly pressing kisses up and down your throat.
Your husband made love to you that night with tears in his eyes. Voice breaking on shuddering little gasps at how you felt under him, around him. Consumed by the scent of you, the taste of you, the feel of you. Confessing his love for you like a prayer in your ear as he fell over the precipice.
He lay draped over you afterwards, head resting on your chest. You carded your fingers through the soft white locks. Trying not to think about anything but here and now.
Your husband's behaviour returned to the good-humoured, clingy man you had come to know the next morning. Though now you couldn't help but notice the instant flip in his demeanor when anyone else neared you. His eyes warning them off in a way that reminded you eerily of the the wolf your grandmother had raised on her property which guarded her land. Eyes flashing with an inhumane possessiveness at those who got too close.
You tried to look past that and focus on how sweet your husband was with you. Following you around and begging for scraps of your attention. Touching you so gently as though you were something precious and treating your every word like gospel.
No one was perfect and there were worse vices for a man to have than jealously and possessiveness. Especially when the anger wasn't turned on you. Though it was difficult to push down that little voice that reminded you the anger hadn't been turned on you yet.
You tried not to let those thoughts impact your behaviour but being the sole focus of a man like him, he noticed even the most miniscule changes in you. How your smile didn't quite always reach your eyes, how you slipped up and called him Gojo in private too now. He felt like you were slipping through his fingers and it set him more on edge than ever. Desperate to tighten his grip on you but not knowing how when everyone and everything seemed determined to keep him from you.
He became short and snappy with everyone but you. With you he was like a puppy that had imprinted or the devoted follower of a god taking up every opportunity for worship.
The clan had been aware of his strange behaviour for a while but connected the dots that it was due to you only after the incident at the event. They had no reason to believe it was your influence, they knew Gojo was more than capable of all this madness himself though it was unfortunate that you brought it out in him.
The plan was set in motion to get rid of you. It was just too bad that while the deed was being carried out, Gojo like a hound seemed to sniff out something was wrong. Returning from the urgent trip they had forced him on, destroying their men who tried to stand in his way so he couldn't get to your room where the assassin was.
They had intended to give you a quick, painless death. You had caused them a lot of trouble but you were naive to it, unaware of the ruin you could bring about. It wasn't your fault that Gojo was a madman and so they would minimize your suffering. A quick and easy piercing of your heart that they would blame on the opposing clan.
It was two birds with one stone. They'd get rid of the thing causing Gojo to stray from the path they wanted him to walk and Gojo would destroy their opposition in his rage. They were sure the anger and loss would make him stronger and more ruthless than ever.
Gojo wasn't even conscious of what he did to the men who tried to block his path to you. Seeing them crumple like flies whose wings had been caught in the rain but entirely focused on the door that led to what was most precious.
He threw it open the moment he could, just in time as the masked man you had been trying to keep away from jumped over the bed you had tried to put between the both of you as you screamed out for help. Gojo sent the man flying back with a push of his hand just as the blade grazed your soft skin.
That one bead of your precious blood that seeped from the cut making his vision explode in red. Your cries went ignored as you begged him to stop while Gojo tore the man limb from limb. His blood defiling that bed where you had laid with Gojo every night and infuriating him further.
This was proof that he should have taken you away when the thought had first occurred to him. Then at least the things blessed with your memories wouldn't have been desecrated. Gojo didn't stop long past the moment when the man stopped moving.
His rage not abated by just this amount of bloodshed when they had tried to take his everything from him. The clan had tried to take his life so he was justified in doing the same to them. Gojo moved through the house, sinking the blade of his sword through everyone he passed.
Making his way over to the shrine where the elders who he knew were behind this stayed. The news of the massacre having reached them but not with nearly enough time to run. Not that something like Gojo could be outrun. All they could do as they awaited their deaths was pray for protection.
Gojo dragged along his bloody blade over the pristine floors of the temples behind him as he walked with feet soaked in the blood of all the lives he had taken. The old men trying to maintain their composure at the sight he cut. Blue eyes blazing with an avenging fury that wouldn't be put out till it had burned down everything.
Emerging from the candle lit hall like a demon hound from hell here to drag them down to the fiery pits where he had emerged from. There would be no use of begging or pleading. He was judge, jury, executioner and the whip of divine punishment.
The Gojo clan fell that day at the blade of the man they had believed would restore their glory. The ancestral home that they had been so proud of becoming their grave.
The angel of death that delivered them to death's cold embrace returning to the house to find his dear one. His heart breaking as you scampered away from him. Hands slipping in the blood of the mistress of the house as you tried to drag yourself back.
Gojo Satoru fell to his knees before you, sword falling from his hands. Unable to take his eyes from your lovely face, pale with fear as it was but such a welcome sight to still be alight with the flame of life.
He crawled over to you, taking your face in his bloodstained hands and pressing his apology into your lips with his own. So sorry for having left you here and endangered the thing most precious to him in this world.
From now on he would never leave your side. Not even for a moment. He had killed the ones who tried to take you from him. Now you two would be together forever and not even death would do you part.
so i knew most of highlander crossovers are with other old tv shows like BtVS, the sentinel, SPN, but like i said before i adore writing niche and rare crossover so here's the more elaborate story about Immortal Ijichi Kiyotaka lol
so when ijichi and methos, post crazy shit that went down with duncan macleod of the clan macleod, decided to de-stressed and traveled around africa, ijichi found what could be described as the youth fountain and at the same time they ran from a curse users that hell bend on cursing one or both of them, ijichi became the victim and he was deaged to age six BUT still remember all of his three millennia life and still an immortal. thankfully he will still grow until the year he died the first time, at age 31, so methos told him to stay somewhere safe until he can defend himself again
ijichi decided to come back home to japan and being adopted by the ijichi clan who he still keep up and exchange letters with, and also to see his student (Gojo Haruhi). he heard that another Six Eyes-Limitless user has been born to the clan and decided to enroll to jujutsu high when he reach age 16 to get to know said user
fast forward ten years later, ijichi still not used to being small than usual, cannot really bring a non-curse tool sword around the school so he only use his shikigami, and when he went to jujutsu high post geto leaving everything just felt weird. still ijichi stayed and somehow got roped into assistant manager position instead of sorcerer, because even though he's old as fuck immortal with penchant for surviving even the craziest shit, his curse energy and shikigami is not that powerful and so he's ok with that
he also got tangled with his upperclassmen drama and has, from an outsider pov, a bully-victim relationship with gojo even tho ijichi knew gojo trust him
fast forward to when he reach 25 and becoming more used to his body, ijichi was known for his calm temperament, his ability to roll with punches and deal with even the craziest sorcerer (aka gojo) without losing his cool, and being perceived as weak and average. ijichi and gojo becoming closer esp after gojo found his apartment who was full with crazy, rare artefacts and books written in old languages, and found out that ijichi also volunteered to translate old books from the school's library
when shit hits the fan a year later, with sukuna and kenjaku and shibuya and everything in between, ijichi is one of the pilar that maintain the status quo of the jujutsu, doing thankless job around the clock with other managers. he also contact methos wondering if he had heard anything about the prison realm (methos didn't know shit) and then decided yes he need some support here
methos came to japan before the culling game, reacquaintance with tengen and gojo hanami, and help reorganize shits. after satoru was released from the prison realm and the start of the fight (but before sukuna-gojo fight), somehow the culling game also becoming the center of the immortals' The Gathering, when immortals around the world start to move to japan
ijichi got roped into the game, some young immortals didn't recognize him and starts attacking him outside of tengen's barrier even tho he's around other sorcerers including gojo and nanami (he's alive ok i won't accept any fact except that nanami is alive!!!!!!), but ijichi yelled that no one can intervern. the conversations went like this, probably :
miyamura (the other immortals) : "I never see you before, you look young. I challenge you to the game!"
ijichi : "Young man, you're still young enough, are you sure?"
gojo : "Who the fuck are you calling young, Ijichi?!"
ijichi, after being attacked and quickly defend himself with his sword : "Wait Gojo-san, do not intervene! I must do this alone."
miyamura : "Ha! So you didn't tell anyone about the rules? Rule number one! No fighting on holy ground. Rule number two! Once a battle between two Immortals has been joined, no one may interfere. And rule number three-"
ijichi, aggravated because now his colleagues and friends knew about immortality, attack viciously and disarmed the other immortal and quickly take his head : "Rule number three, There Can Be Only One!"
the other, mesmerized but also weird out with the duel, shocked to watch lightning came from the body ijichi just beheaded and the lightning came straight to ijichi. after a few seconds, the area was cleared again and ijichi start swaying around but manage to walk back to the others.
gojo : "what the fuck was that."
ijichi : "won your fight against sukuna then i'll tell you all about it."
so that's one motivation for satoru to win his fight.
so i really adore writing niche crossover and bcs i currently reading a fuckton lot of jjk fanfic on ao3 and its that time of the year when i miss reading the highlander and methos fanfic, kinda want to write an immortal ijichi kiyotaka au LMAO
look i found this one intriguing gojo x ijichi rare pair fic that i adore and will def re-read (Opposites Attract by Durendel32) and kinda like the staff and other sorcerers thought ijichi to be this average assistant manager, but gojo always has some weird feelings around ijichi, that he's different and has more depth than was shown
but because everything that happened in their high school years, gojo didn't really pay attention to other years, only when he watch how ijichi behave and thought he didn't really have potential to be a sorcerer and kinda bullied him a lot to quit
ijichi is actually one of the ancient immortal and knew methos aka the oldest immortal. he didn't really remember his original name (it's Fukurokuju, but he's more used to any variation of Kiyo) he's around since jomon period and on his third millennia (while methos is on his six), he's really the type to roll with punches and that's why as the assistant manager he's known for being unfazed by even the craziest missions and sorcerers. he learned a lot of language esp chinese-korean-japanese, and he always able to see curses (rare as they were in those eras) but didn't understand wtf is that
ijichi met methos around his seventh centuries in, he used to have an immortal teacher but she's been dead for a couple of decades. methos kinda roamed around china and they met during some battle against some people (i don't really know the history about those area LMAO) and after they found out they didn't want to take each other's head, they became fast friend (esp when ijichi didn't really judge him about being Death)
ijichi knew about jujutsu because even thought he roam around the world during his years alive, he still came back to japan from time to time, so he's actually around during heian era before and after sukuna exist. he was tengen's acquaintance and tengen's place is where he stashed some of his most precious books
fast forward to probably four hundred years before jjk canon, ijichi that was currently named Kiyoomi, fell in love and married Ijichi Naomi and took her last name. the ijichi is a minor but powerful jujutsu clan, and ijichi kiyoomi learn a lot about how to access shikigami. it was round this age he also befriend the current six eyes-limitless holder, Gojo Akira, and also found out one of gojo's step sibling, Gojo Hanami, is an immortal so he vow to be there to help her when she first die
naomi still has a child (from previous relationship) but both ijichi thought it would be better for kiyo to claime the child as his. then the ijichi clan found out about his immortality and his real name (which actually considered a deity,,, what a surprise) and sworn to always allow Kiyo to came back even if decades or centuries have passed. so now ijichi has a place and clan to came back to
fast forward to probably ten years before jjk canon, ijichi and methos roam around africa and ijichi was cursed by one of the curse user there, and then he was aged back to around six yo even tho his body was 31 (the age when he first die), so bcs of this he decided to come back to japan and being adopted by the ijichi clan, and claim the name Ijichi Kiyotaka
(another) continuation for that another plot bunny,,
Part 1 | Part 2
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a bit time-traveling fic of our favorite white hair menace, his three crazy first years students, and the reluctant SIkuna aka hawkuna who just want to rest and enjoy his fourth life without chaos
or
in which i cant stop thinking about the five menaces travelled forward in time to about a year after hawkuna died and got even more confused (and a bit uncomfortable) about sukuna's third life.
this happened after season 1, around late august/early september, so sukuna already spent two months in the past inside yuuji and being trusted Very Reluctantly by megumi and nobara. not yuuji, bcs that pink haired sunshine incarnated trusted SIkuna more, and not gojo, bcs two months are not enough to erase nearly three decades worth of mistrust and apprehension against the King of Curses.
some villain in the future probably has a time-related quirk and SOMEHOW got hold of hawkuna's old feather, and when he (and yuuji) got pulled into the future, the others around him also got pulled bcs they're all near him.
they arrived on a dim-lit old warehouse in a middle of a summoning-like circle, with the villain behind them and, surprise surprise, aizawa and shinsou in front of them. megumi quickly incapacitated the villain while hawkuna yelled at yuuji to switch with him quickly (and yuuji complied which unnerved gojo a bit).
sukuna somehow slide into becoming hawks so smoothly, too smoothly. maybe because he remember being hawks more vividly than being ueno keigo and even sukuna-the-sorcerer, even thought now he has reincarnated as sukuna again. maybe he somehow is more comfortable being human than being a curse.
(but alas, whatever he thought or felt, he is a curse and one day, these sorcerers will kill him for sure. for the survival of itadori yuuji, he will welcome that death. maybe there will be no fifth life for him, and isn't it great to finally rest?)
sukuna : "wait aizawa, shinsou! we're not villains!"
shinsou : "who the fuck are you?"
sukuna, ignoring shinsou bcs he knew his quirk : "aizawa, you still remember protocol TRT, right? this one is TRT situation 02B, you know how to proceed."
aizawa, who regret even leaving his bed this morning : "the fuck did you do, problem child? i thought those protocols are jokes."
sukuna : "one, bold of you to assume that i didn't joke about it, and two, I'M NOT A FUCKING CHILD and not your student either!"
sukuna, so done with everything : "yes they're fucking real so can one of you please tell me what year is it now?"
gojo and megumi, having a war flashback : "ugh here we go again."
aizawa : "about a year after your death."
sukuna : "wait aren't you around 50 now? what the fuck are you doing on the field, aizawa?"
shinsou : "he owe me and are you really going to ignore me?!"
aizawa : "it's fine, shinsou, that's definitely hawks. also, i'm not that old."
sukuna : "i know your tricks, shinsou, i help refine some of them. also five years ago you got drunk so bad and complained about your prosthetic, that's why i recommended you as UA's principal."
nobara, so done with everything : "do i have to kill someone to move this conversation to other, more sanitary place?!"
so while aizawa contact hpsc and shinsou took care of the villain, megumi slide closer to hawkuna/yuuji and ask about their power, because they remembered the conversations about curse energy and quirks. gojo, who with his six eyes also saw how curse energy behaved weirdly around the two heroes, as in they pooled behind aizawa's eyes and around shinsou's throat, also very interested with the answers.
sukuna, who knew the two heroes' quirks are public information to some extend : "aizawa can turn off someone's quirks with his eyes, shinsou can brainwash anyone who answer his question. the answers didn't need to be a complete sentence, a simple hum will do."
nobara : "shit, that's powerful as fuck."
soon a big suv arrived and they escort the four time traveler to hpsc side building for interrogation, which sukuna told them if they believe him to be hawks he did remember everything with the exception anything they change after his death, and then he berate the hpsc officer who he also knew about this loophole, and during his rant shinsou laugh because yeah, that's hawks alright.
shinsou : "ah, hawks-senpai, i miss you! life's too dull without you, no one can gang up on bakugou with me like you do."
gojo : "so we knew how hawks like in the past, can you show me hawks in the future like? heard he's some bigshot hero?"
one of the employee then proceed to talk their ears off about hawkuna's accomplishments as japan's top hero and hpsc president, with how he handle the war when he was still 23, how he climb to top 10 before 21, how he protect japan post-war with steadfastness befitting to those with decades more of experience (he did have decades of experience but its not like anyone knew), how even post-retirement he still do good as hpsc president, and even save hundreds of people during a nasty earthquake last year even thought it ended with his death. gojo listened to all of these with ease, masking his disbelief because sukuna, king of curses, a legitimate hero?! that's something, alright.
megumi and nobara also thought those are wild and inaccurate, but then shinsou show them a few videos about hawks saving people. it was very much a mesmerizing and magical sight, because a man, flying? with huge wings, like an angel? sukuna the calamity?
yuuji who saw everything from the inside lamenting about the fact that they didn't have wings now.
sukuna : "shit yeah i miss my wings."
aizawa : "so, you want to tell me about your story and how you came back to life?"
sukuna : "later, i'll wait until everyone arrive. who else did you invite?"
shinsou : "tokoyami obviously, bakugou -because he's the current number one, midoriya -because he's one of the smartest little shit and definitely knew how to handle time travel, todoroki -because you definitely should inform dabi too, miruko -because she will kill me if i dont, hakamata-san and kugo-san because they're basically your parents."
sukuna : "NO THEY FUCKING NOT?! also, how's dabi?"
shinsou : "smooth, man. your husband is alright, still alive and well in prison."
gojo : "you have a husband... AND IN PRISON?!"
yuuji, inside sukuna : "you never tell me?!"
sukuna : "shut up, he's not my husband. and yes, he's a former villain."
nobara then pestered shinsou with more information, while gojo look around the city while contemplating about sukuna being in love with another person. they're in the future, alright, and sukuna didnt lie when he said that in the future curse energy evolve and change humanity. the next few people that came to see hawkuna (and isnt it wild to think that sukuna, the fucking calamity, had friends and co-workers that care about him) are human but more often didnt look like one. hawks intern with a bird head and one of his 'parents' who looks like a fucking killer whale are to name a few.
gojo thought it was wild that hawkuna was short even thought his red wings are magnificent, and then thinking about the possibility of sukuna gained a new set of wings to go with his old body, the tall huge with four arms one. (and if he drooled a bit... well he's still a man and he got a type, ok?!)
when everyone has arrived, sukuna finally told them his story (but not that detailed). how his life as takami keigo aka hawks is not his first but his third, and how his second life as sukuna-the-sorcerer and sukuna the king of curses made him feel very guilty he resolve to save a lot of people after becoming a hero, how he did remember a lot as sukuna and his first life, how when he died he thought that's it but it seems like his life as sukuna hasn't finish yet. he woke up around june 2018 inside yuuji becase the boy they currently see is his vessel, and he foolishly ate one of his finger in which contain his power and soul. he ended his tale with how, one day in 2018, he walk around tokyo with these three and yanked into the future ("definitely not our fault!") and when they checked, the villain did has a time-related quirk and one of his old feather.
tokoyami : "so you became a hero... to atone?"
midoriya : "i think you have done more than enough, hawks-senpai."
sukuna, laughing hysterically : "you don't understand, brat. havent some of you heard about Sukuna? The Disgraced One, the God of Calamity? i was more of a monster than fucking All for One, brats, even thought my reign of terrors are only a few years rather than two centuries like him. how can you scale human lives that was lost during those years? i destroyed hundred thousands of humans, killed them without mercy and even guilt, and you think my atonement as hawks was enough?"
miruko : "yes, fuckface. i didn't know you a thousand years ago, but i knew you for more than two decades. you're a hardworking, caring hero who would rather shouldered all of japan's problems by yourself instead of asking for our helps because you don't want to 'shrink from your duty'. you will say it gruffly, but then you will ruffled your kohai's and employees hair and told them to take care of themselves first, like a fucking hypocrite."
shouto : "we're all there when you passionately defend my brother, a villain who had killed hundred of civilians. you told them about second changes, about how his descend into madness is also a responsibility of a lot of people and not only himself, how our parents, teachers, everyone around us, and society has failed my brother so badly he went mad, but he's not at the point of no return. he can still be helped, and he did get better after you made sure he got the chance to be better."
bakugou : "you must have your own fucking reason about those actions, dipshit, and i had read about heian period, those years are fucking sucks, right?"
hakamata : "you said it yourself, some villains are made, not born, because our society is not and never perfect. but that doesn't mean we can't help those who can and want to be helped, and rehab them into being a better person. you definitely the perfect example of that. instead of becoming one of the most dangerous villain, you became one of japan's best hero."
gojo and his students, who were quiet the whole time, keep thinking about it. if these people, who had been around sukuna for decades but still able to see the best of him, can he really become someone good? not the god of calamity and the king of curses? in a way, they got lucky because sukuna already went through his character development and becoming somewhat a good person, and even when he's currently a curses, he was a human for two and a half lifetime.
in the end, they found out the quirk will pushed them back to their original time in three days, so during those time the four sorcerers plus yuuji found out that sukuna can multitask and very much a busybody. everything he missed before he died he quickly put to rest, including some letters he want to send to his close friends. yuuji definitely became even more attach to sukuna when he saw all those letters.
a day before they need to come back, sukuna finally visit dabi. the four sorcerers have to follow him because the quirk didnt allow them to be far from each other, but the meeting between sukuna and dabi is as private as it can be.
from gojo's pov, it's definitely a heartbreaking scene. they can see them but can't hear their conversations. dabi scarily has his coloring, white hair and blue eyes, pale skin and tall as fuck. but dabi is full of scars, and there's a lot of emotions behind his blue eyes when they saw hawkuna. shouto definitely had told his brother about hawkuna's condition, so when they meet dabi isn't that shocked.
dabi : "that you, pretty bird?"
sukuna, sliding more into becoming hawks it feels scary : "hey, hot stuff, sorry i'm late."
dabi : "you never late, that's how i knew something was off when you didn't visit me after the earthquake."
they talk a bit, but mostly holding hands. yuuji saw the scene with a sad smile. megumi and nobara didn't want to think about whats going to happen next because it's heartbreaking, meeting your lover a year after their death but can only be with each other for a day. in the end, dabi told him off for dying and lectured him about his bad habits and to take care of himself and not to overwork, and sukuna can't help but kiss dabi for the last time.
sukuna : "i hope i could meet you again in the next life."
dabi : "ha, i hope not, because it means you didn't get your rest."
sukuna laugh while trying not to cry, which promptly yanked yuuji outside because he didn't want to cry in front of dabi. yuuji sheepishly introduced himself to dabi, and promised him he would take care of sukuna too like he did yuuji.
in the end, after they got back to the past, gojo ask sukuna whether he could change things now they're back in the past. sukuna didn't think so, the timelines are probably fixed for huge, catastrophic events like the existence of quirks. those things will happen, but the detail? the chain of events that leads to that change? those are lost from history, sukuna-when-he-was-hawks cant find any report about those events.
(sukuna hope the shibuya incident wont end the way it did in 'canon')
(gojo hope he can find out more about this sukuna, the sukuna that was very much different than in the jujutsu's recond. the sukuna that, in his past life, after remembering being sukuna, decided to atone and becoming a hero that was still being remembered and loved even a year after his death).
(gojo thought he will be the one who taught sukuna how to love, but it's more possible that sukuna will be the one who teach him how to live).
--
(feel free to use this long-ass post as inspiration or something!! i... probs gonna write them on ao3, like, maybe??? probably???? yeah,,)
so i've been reading too much Self-Insert Sukuna AKA SIkuna, and because i've been busy on the mha/bnha fandom for some time, and because i adore crazy crossover story so i kinda want to write a fic about :
a totally random workaholic surgeon who love jjk bcs watching anime is the only entertainment he allowed himself to have, got reincarnated as sukuna without remembering his first life, only some glimpses and liking similar things, and he still became sukuna the sorcerer and then ryomen sukuna the king of curses. after he got separated into 20 fingers (still one of the most hilarious shit that happened), he got reincarnated into takami keigo aka hawks.
his third life as hawks he remembered a lot of shits about being sukuna and his first life (when he also hilariously named keigo), mostly how strong and crazy he was, and how easily for him to destroy villages and humans, and how in his first life he became a surgeon to help people but somehow he became a monster in his second one so the GUILT is very much there, so he very much tried to do everything to use his power, his quirk, for good and become a hero. one of the reason why he's way more mature and capable to be a top three heroes before 25 is because he's old old and he got the advantage of once being the strongest.
in the end, after the war where he thankfully didn't lose his quirk and somehow became hpsc president and start to revolutionized japan heroics, he tried to find out about the old jujutsu society and how the fuck did the curse energy changed so much that even the mundane people able to manifest their curse technique and it changed into quirks. the society pretty much integrated with the 'mundane' because their curse technique also mutated into quirks, and because people use their quirks a lot and controlled their curse energy, in a way, they didn't create curses anymore so in the end geto (and yuki) got what they want, a world without curses and so the jujutsu society wasn't really needed anymore.
but bcs hawks knew the world history very well he also knew that those changes is not without consequences, there will always be quirkist people and in the beginning ppl are afraid of those quirked ppl but thankfully bcs jujutsu society did their job to ease tensions when more and more ppl with quirk born.
when he died as hawks, he was pretty young but not as young as his first life, probably around 35-40yo. but instead of finally resting peacefully in the afterlife, he immediately incarnated back into sukuna BUT this time inside itadori yuuji, while also remembering ALL of his life, first as the ordinary dude who love jjk, second as sukuna in heian era, and third as top hero hawks.
when sukuna took over yuuji to exorcise the curse on top of the school, he freaked out a lot bcs I THOUGHT I WAS DONE WITH THE LIVING WORLD and so when megumi tried to exorcise him he just said "shut it, i'm having an existential crisis, also what year is it now?" before yuuji took over, gojo came and they have their talk.
when gojo ask yuuji to let sukuna take over for prob one minute, he finally gathered enough wit (even tho he still freaked out) to, yknow, just talk instead of fighting each other, and gojo humor him for a bit.
SIkuna : "so sorcerer... sugawara? sugawara descendant? what year is it?"
gojo, amused : "the name's gojo now, and why do you want to know?"
SIkuna, very much done w life bcs he just want to pass to the afterlife : "because dipshit, this is actually my fourth life instead of second, and i want to know if i manage to travel forward or backward in time or even to a different dimension. from the infrastructure and language and the existence of curse energy, I'm still in the same japan and could be around 21st to 24th century. if you would be so kind to answer my question about what year is it today?"
gojo, having so many question because what the fuck did sukuna mean by fourth life??? : "...it's 2018."
SIkuna : "so curse energy hasn't evolve and awakened everyone's curse technique and change it into quirks yet?"
gojo : "...what the fuck."
SIkuna : "yeah, that happened on my third life but i was born around year 2335. someone or something upstairs, probably one of the power-that-be, definitely messed up my reincarnation cycle. it's weird."
gojo (and megumi who listened to the whole convo) : "..."
SIkuna : "oh well, the brat is starting to suppress me, so i'll take my leave and please don't contact me for the next few days because i want to sort out all of my memories first."
sukuna def freaked out a lot of people with his nonchalant attitude and 'i already lived through three way different but similar in craziness lifetime, im not afraid of anything anymore, what more would they do, kill me? been there done that got THREE different trauma', tried to change the timeline and also balancing having THREE separated lifetime worth of memories, trying to not becoming heian-era-sukuna but also knowing he can't be both keigos again, also somehow befriending all of the jujutsu high students (first and second years), being seduced by gojo (who at first doing this only because he wants information but then bcs he likes it), having tea with nanami/yaga while also has three lifetimes worth of rambling about the state of the world (the good thing is we won't die bcs of global warming, but also WHY WAS EVERY HIGHER UP ARE ALL SHITTY PEOPLE), and somehow he did it and save the timeline?????
he also had some talks with yuki (and with gojo too) about curse energy-curse technique-quirks, while also telling them he didn't know a lot of shit bcs a lot of written records got lost during the troubling years.
yuki : "but that means it happened, right? no more curses and no more sorcerers dying."
sukuna : "well yeah, but there's nearly a century full of change. the country all around the world are slow on changing things, esp here in japan. the system isn't perfect and i did spend a decade rebuild the system after the war-"
gojo : "what do you mean by war?"
sukuna : *briefly talk about his job as japan top hero and the war with all-for-one* "...and yeah in the end i prob didnt do much but i do hope my sidekicks, allies, and employees can continue my works and make japan heroics a better place."
gojo : "....sukuna marry me."
sukuna : "HA?!"
yuki : *laughing*
thats... more or less the whole plot i kinda want to write,,, probs gonna add more ha
(feel free to use this long-ass post as inspiration or something!! i... probs gonna write them on ao3, like, maybe??? probably???? yeah,,)
Aka Yuuji unleashing 21 Sukunas (+ 4 extras) at some poor bastard.
Please keep reading for context!
YES this is the same art that I did a few months ago! There has been an influx of new stories and I thought I may as well update it <3 I still couldnt fit everyone though, unfortunately. It would be hell. But I tried!
Now, THE FICS.
A Gentler World || In Search of That Blue Sky by SunglassesCat.
The Road to Melevolance [Daikoku] by DepressionTM (Revantio).
Here for a good time, not a long time [Maibu] by ME :333
Why did it have to be Sukuna!? [Ryouhatsu] by BunnyBurr0w.
When there's darkness in me [DK!Ume] by YeetTheAngels.
SIkuna's guide to not fucking up perfectly good children (look at them, they could get anxiety!) [Syuuya] By Overly_Verbose.
Dish Best Served Hot [Cotton] by Oceanic_stream.
Heavy is the head (hollow is the bone) || My blood (I'll go with you) [Kain || Chisuke, respectively] by Hell_Serpent.
Reach for the Stars (See what you find) [Yang] by Yue_Charontares.
You'll never settle any of your scores [Moichi (moichu :)] by Travellers_Of_Void.
The devil's a woman [Banshee] by Noval1t.
The Quest for Broadway [Senku] by i_write_to_let_my_feelings_out.
Sukuna’s Bedroom Tour (And Other Unrealities) [ARGkuna/Shrine] by dragonflyflight.
How Gods are born (the universe laughs) [Nihil] by DoNotPerceiveMe (SatoSuguGivesMeLife).
the sky set to burst (the gold and the rust) [Terasu] by TheRandomArtMaker.
two heads are better than one [Suu] by saharadunes
asura's penance. [Setsuna] by asteriacrows.
Shrine Of Mutualism [Sebkuna] by Maihoo.
a tranquil soliloquy (fear not, my sunshine) [Woodflea 2 Yuujikuna] by thesilliestvisionary.
ermm… what the sigma?!?1 [Nikita] by inertia (anobjectinmotion).
in a dream state (they're rearranging your face) [Woodflea 1 Kaida] by MX_GL1TCH.
Prototype's fic is not available yet! (By Dark).
Jihi's fic is not available yet! (By me!).
Satoshi doesn't have a fic! He's a special guest. (By Mellon).
Fics that are yet to be available will be added when they've been posted! Meanwhile, please give everyone here a read and comments! Maybe even visit the whole collection while you're at it :3 they're all so every talented.
"You're kidding. Someone's actually challenging TEN Sukunas at once?! HAHA–" -Maibu (the Mahito in the piece :]) probably
More info below!
Updated piece!
This took like a full month and more. Never thought I'd even ever get to finish an actual full piece LOL yet here we are. I WOULD tag the people , but. Fear. They'll see it anyways from the DC server so I'll just list their names and fic here :)
A Gentler World || In Search of That Blue Sky by SunglassesCat.
The Road to Melevolance [Suku-suku] by DepressionTM (Revantio).
Here for a good time, not a long time [Maibu] by ME :333
Why did it have to be Sukuna!? [Ryouhatsu] by BunnyBurr0w.
When there's darkness in me [DK!Ume] by YeetTheAngels.
SIkuna's guide to not fucking up perfectly good children (look at them, they could get anxiety!) [Syuuya] By Overly_Verbose.
Dish Best Served Hot [Cotton] by Oceanic_stream.
Heavy is the head (hollow is the bone) || My blood (I'll go with you) [Kain, Chisuke, respectively] by Hell_Serpent.
Reach for the Stars (See what you find) [Yang] by Yue_Charontares.
You'll never settle any of your scores [Moichi (moichu :))] by Travellers_Of_Void.
The devil's a woman [Banshee] by Noval1t.
Credits are all through Ao3! Please go visit their profile and leave a comment or two on their works :). They're all lovely people
The legend of Sukuna, ancient sorcerer-turned-curse as cannibal are greatly exaggerated
He ate people, sure; just not... literally
It's euphemism iykyk; and sorcerer clans hate him so much because his 'appetite' was pretty Broad so all information that survives to the modern era in clans about him only talked much about his pillaging, burning, and cannibal-ing way
(in which sikuna is a dilf personified; a real Bard bc he always rolls nat 20 on seduction check; and sorcerer clans fucking hate him because every person they send to kill him always change allegation and got seduced by him; all those 'extinct' clans? was swallowed into his 'harem')
So little fact in this prompt, only six eyes users can implant on potential romantic partners with compatible curse energy, so queue sikuna saving heian six eyes user and six eyes user implanting on him and stalking him across Japan
The Six eyes user and sikuna sleep together when they came cross each other randomly and sikuna decided to fuck him so he could stop bothering him but it made it ten times worst
Sikuna got pregnant , sikuna being totally done with everything, he decided to dump the baby on his unhinged husband
Sikuna make himself into a cursed object so he could have long time holiday away from the jujutsu world and his children,
Fast forward 1000 years to Yuji eating sikuna finger and sikuna having crash out after seeing another six eyes user implanting on him
Sikuna doesn't fight gojo in episode 1 and avoid him as much as possible because he will not deal with six eyes spawn again
A yandere heian-era Six Eyes holder Sugawara x SIkuna
The six eyes highkey embrace the confinement route while sikuna lowkey terrified and highkey hide from them
The only thing saving sikuna from capture is the fact that their powers are equals, with the sugawara only trying to capture pick sikuna up from his solo adventure while sikuna trying his hardest to run with minimal collateral from their surrounding
And now, when he wakes up from his rest forced resurrection and face to face with the abomination sugawara again, is it any wonder that his first reaction is to bolt far away from the creepy guy?
(Where Gojo Satoru is more than his ancestor but still an exact copy in all the ways that matters; and sikuna having the No Good Very Bad Horrible Time in this modern era as he's having Trauma Flashback every time the six eyes glance at Yuji(him) and running on fumes and adrenaline)
(Kenjaku can't decide whether to feel crossed or admire the audacity of that crazy sugawara to hijack his incarnation plan just to chase after sikuna. Seeing how the former holder of the six eyes distracted sikuna enough to let kenjaku finish the final phase of his plan though... Well, it's not like his participation is unwelcome.)
All right hear me out! What about an au of kakanaru, BUT The Age of Adaline style 👀👀
Where Naruto first fell in love with Sakumo, but became they can’t age they vanished. Only is reappear years later to fall in love with Sakumo’s son (Kakashi)
And going with the plot, Naruto’s kid would be minato instead (since he’s older then Naruto, same how Adaline daughter grows older then her mother)
The drama is real, and I can see this for them.
But what do you think?
Read this and blacked out thinking of father-son wife sharing and all the drama of Kakashi finding love for the first time with Naruto and widowed sakumo falling back in love with Naruto at the same time all the while Naruto loves them both and they all try to navigate that mess
warnings: dub/con -> non/con, afab!reader, heavy intoxication, dom!reader, sub!satoru, handjobs, oral sex (f. receiving), water sports/omorashi, verbal degradation, impact play, blood, and prolonged stalking. satoru's the yandere but there is something very, very wrong with reader. dead dove: do not eat.
You didn’t like Shoko’s friends.
You tried to steer clear of people she introduced you to as a rule. You loved Shoko, had ever since the two of you met during her eerily brief time in medical school, but she kept odd company. There was the strange, grinning man with the lopsided bangs and a penchant for staring at something just over your shoulder, and the clean-cut blonde with awful taste ties and a habit of checking his watch every other second. Occasionally, she’d treat you to Utahime, who made you laugh but always drank too much too quickly, or subject you to Yuki, who never seemed to be able to keep her hands to herself for more than a minute at a time. They were all weirdos, sure, but of the relatively benign variety. There was only one that really bothered you.
The blue-eyed guy. The tall one. You couldn’t remember his name, but you knew one thing for sure.
He was really fucking creepy.
Even more so now that you’d left the crowded bar, where some amount of uncomfortable proximity and dazed staring was unavoidable. Now, standing on the deserted sidewalk just outside, lit only by one flickering streetlamp and a few neon signs, the unwanted attention seemed like less of an occupational hazard and more of an active threat. His sharp, cold eyes were focused on you unblinkingly from behind his sunglasses, and with the sleeves of his button-up rolled to his elbows, you could make out the muscle along his arms, layered over his chest. There was more of it than you would’ve expected from someone so lanky. More of it than you had, certainly.
You still had your back to him, something you were infinitely grateful for. Watching him in your peripheral, you took a measured step forward, then stopped. He did the same. Another step, and another from him, too. You glanced over your shoulder, and he cocked his head to the side, his lips parting as he met your stare.
Like you’d said, fucking creepy.
You turned to face him. He didn’t move. Cautiously, you approached, keeping your hands in your pockets and a placid smile plastered across your lips. “Hi there.”
His mouth opened, but closed again just as quickly. You caught a dash of color rise to his cheeks, but that was all.
“It’s Suguru, right?” you tried again. “Shoko’s still inside, if you’re looking for her.”
He grimaced. “Satoru. And I—I’m not—” His speech was slurred and uncoordinated. It took him long, awkward seconds of trying before he was able to spit out something intelligible. “I don’t want Shoko.”
“And why’s that, big guy?”
“She’s—” Another stumble, another desperate pitch for the right word. “She’s mean.”
Immediately, you understood two very exciting, very important things.
The first was that Satoru was drunk. Very drunk. Not black-out, not quite, but not coherent, either. You probably didn’t have a lot to fear from a man who’d be knocked on his ass by another shot.
The second was that Satoru, in his drunken stupor, had sought you out. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve thought that he had a bit of a crush.
You edged that much closer. “You really should head back inside, buddy. I’m on my way home.” A pause, a smile. “Unless you’d rather come with me?”
He nodded, clumsily and hastily. Perfect.
“I don’t know. I can be pretty mean, too.”
“Let me co—”
“That’s not how we ask for what we want,” you cut in. “Try again.”
He glared, but did as he was told. A spoiled brat, but not one with much of a backbone. “I wanna— I want to go home with you. Please.”
You hummed, feigning uncertainty, but Satoru pouted and you cracked in an instant.
Let it never be said that you didn’t have a soft spot in your cold, cold heart for pitiful things.
~
The short walk to your building was slow and stumbling. Satoru ended up on the ground more than once. By the time you herded him into your elevator, he was all-but draped over you, those too-strong arms wrapped around your midriff and his face buried in your hair. It couldn’t have been much more than pure force of will keeping him upright. You’d have to take advantage of that while it lasted.
He drifted to your apartment’s door as you trailed behind him, then drooled on your neck while you fiddled with the deadbolt. He made it all of two steps past the threshold before tripping over his own feet and collapsing onto your living room couch – his long body spilling over either armrest as he struggled to get up again. A hand on his chest was enough to stop him, another on his cheek to smother his constant squirming into a few drunken, reflexive twitches. Once he was still, you let your fingertips skirt up his temple and hook underneath his sunglasses, flicking them to the carpeted floor.
He shut his eyes on instinct. You were quick to correct that. “You have to look at me, Satoru.”
His response came on a delay, meek and slurred. “…I don’t wanna—”
“Did I ask what you wanted?” You grabbed a handful of his unruly hair and tugged. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to prove it could hurt, if you wanted it to. “You’re in my home, ‘toru. My home. It’d be rude not to listen to your host.”
There was a second of hesitation, but eventually, the creases around the corners of his eyes relaxed, his lids flickering open. Bright, toxic blue burnt into you – hot and technicolor and hideous.
You let out a breath of a laugh. “I can see why you wear the glasses. Those things aren’t exactly doing you any favors.” He scowled, but any offense he might’ve felt was quickly forgotten as you threw a leg over his thighs and straddled him, shrugging off your jacket in the same motion. Immediately, the faint pink that’d been painted across his cheeks all night sparked into a violent, all-encompassing red. He started to stammer, but you put him out of his misery quickly. “You’re okay with this, right?”
“I—”
“You don’t have to answer.” You dropped your hands to the fly of his dress pants. “I think I already know.”
You could already see it – the tent in his pants, already painfully stiff at the slightest hint of stimulation. You undid the button, first, taking your time and letting his breathing go ragged, then the zipper, revealing—
Oh.
Oh.
Revealing a pair of your panties. The ones you’d lost two weeks ago. Thin and lacy and red with little pink hearts dotted across the front, identifiable by the tiny tear near the waistband that’d always driven you crazy. His cock strained against the material, arousal darkening the fabric.
You clicked your tongue. Come to think of it, you hadn’t needed to tell him which apartment was yours, either. You couldn’t be surprised, though. You’d always known there had to be something wrong with him.
No wonder Shoko liked you. You were probably the only normal person she knew.
You pulled the ruined panties to the side, freeing his cock. Or, trying to, at least. For some reason, you just couldn’t seem to make contact – your fingertips always falling half an inch short. Your gaze flickered back to his face, his cloudy eyes, his parted lips. His eyebrows were furrowed, like he was concentrating. You half-remembered a conversation you had with Shoko an eternity ago about strange, reality-bending powers, or martial arts, or a mix of the two. At the time, you’d assumed it was just another grad school mental breakdown, but her friends were pretty weird. There might’ve been a reason why.
“Satoru,” you started, as sweet and as tender as a lover could be. “Is there a reason I can’t touch you?”
A beat lapsed. Eventually, he nodded.
“But, you want me to touch you, right?”
Another nod, this one shakier than the first.
“Can you ease up on the force-field, then?” You rocked your palm over his cock. “If you don’t, I can’t help you with this. And you do want my help, don’t you?”
There was a low, fractured whimper, but the inexplicable force pushing you away disappeared. You laughed, finally taking his cock in your hand. It was big. Bigger than you’d expected from someone so desperate, at least. Pale as fresh snow with a pale pink tip, already leaking thick beads of iridescent pre-cum. “You’ve gotta be a virgin,” you muttered, lining it up with your lower stomach. A cock like that could puncture your lungs, if you weren’t careful. “Nobody’s letting you put this monster inside of them.”
“’m not,” he protested. “Back in high school, me n’ my best friend—”
“He let you fuck him? Or did you just lie there and take it while he fucked you?”
Satoru pursed his lips, refusing to answer. You all-but purred with satisfaction.
“That’s what I thought.”
You wrapped your fist around the base, pumping gently. Satoru moaned shamelessly, every noise pained and breathy, as if he’d simply forgotten how to close his mouth.
“So,” you started, tracing your thumb over his slit. “How long have you been stalking me?”
Denial came immediately, as natural as breathing. “I didn’t—”
You slapped him across the face. Open palm, but with enough force for the crack of skin against skin to echo through your living room. He didn’t flinch, but he blinked up at you – tears forming in the corners of his eyes. You felt his cock pulse against your palm.
“Don’t lie to me, ‘toru.” This wasn’t going to be fun unless he played along. “You wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings, right?”
It took a little more convincing, a few more seconds of grinding the heel of your palm into his shaft, but eventually, Satoru relented, his voice little more than a pitchy, prolonged babble. “Fo—Four months.”
You let out a low whistle. “That’s a long time. Even for a pervert.”
“’m not a—”
Your hand slid under his shirt, finding a nipple and pinching hard. His entire body arched underneath you, his hips bucking into yours.
“What’d I say about lying, honey?”
“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” And then, hands scrambling to find purchase on the cushion beneath him, “I—I love you, ‘n I can’t stop, and I’m gonna— I’m gonna—”
Anything he might’ve said was swallowed by a hitched groan. His eyes rolled back in his head, and you felt something warm wash over the back of your hand – too clear to be cum and too thin to be premature ejaculate. Abruptly, your living room seemed to reek of ammonia and musk. Worst of all, his cock was still humiliatingly hard.
He’d pissed on you.
Your smile widened.
You spread your free hand over his lower stomach, leaning your weight onto his bladder. Your formerly languid pace was adjusted to suit your new goal – milking him dry, making sure you wrung out every last thing he might’ve been keeping from you. Satoru sobbed openly, now, tears running down his cheeks as he chanted a pitiful mantra of ‘please don’t, please don’t, please don’t’s. He’d never look better.
You pressed down that much harder on his stomach. A thick stream of piss and watery cum flowed down your wrist, dripping onto his legs, his pants. You could see a puddle of it forming underneath him, but his dignity and the state of your couch were abruptly secondary. It was all you could do to look away long enough to lower yourself down to his level, brushing your lips against his cheek and kissing away his tears before drifting south, slotting your mouth against his. Of course, Satoru pushed back against you, forcing his tongue past your teeth and lapping against yours. It was sloppy, messy, dirty. Very suddenly, you were very sure that you were the first person he’d ever kissed.
For the first time that night, something cruel and hungry came into being inside of you. To show him your appreciation, you took his lower lip between your teeth and bit down until your canines met. Blood washed into your mouth, dripping down your chin. Something thick and searing splashed against your midriff. A glance down confirmed what you already knew.
He’d cum already.
How boring.
You could feel him going soft in your hand. You let him go, rolling to the side and off of the couch entirely. You started for your bathroom, intending to take a hot shower and head to bed early, only to be stopped by a shaking hand latching onto your wrist. Satoru’s, of course, barely strong enough to keep you where you were.
His eyes were huge and glossy. Somehow, that was even more pathetic than the piss and cum that stained his lower half. “I thought we were gonna…?”
You let out a breath of a laugh. “You want it that bad, huh?”
There was no pause, this time. A slight distortion due to his punctured bottom lip, but no hesitation at all. “I love you.”
You rolled your eyes. “Give me a minute.”
You took a rushed shower, washing away the stench of urine and liquor. By the time you returned to Satoru, he was barely conscious, his eyes half-lidded and the blood smeared across his face just beginning to dry. With some effort, you clambered onto the armrest, placing a knee on either side of his head and settling on his face. His tongue lapped, warm and senseless, over your cunt. It was almost endearing – just how desperate he was.
Almost.
You fished your phone out of your discarded jacket and pulled up Shoko’s contact.
you: come get your friend
you: he peed on my couch :\
ieiri: lmaooooooo
ieiri: nanami should be there in ten
Nanami. The blonde one with the bad fashion sense. He was pretty, if you were into the depressed accountant type.
You ground into Satoru’s mouth, wondering if Nanami would want anything to drink.
You were crying. At that age, everything felt too big. The other kids had cornered you near the edge of the park, shoved you until your knees hit gravel. Afterward, you slumped onto a bench, fingers trembling around your bruised knees, salt streaking your face in silent, unstoppable waves.
And then he showed up.
He was older than you, but not by much. Maybe twelve or thirteen. Maybe fourteen, tops. He looked like someone who never once cried in public. Or cried at all.
He stood a few feet away. “Ugh. What a noise.”
You glared at him between hiccups. “Go away.”
“Maybe I will. But you’re ruining the atmosphere. You know, I just got back from a mission.”
“A mission?”
He crouched lazily beside the bench. “I exorcise... unexplainable things”
“…What’s exorcise?”
“Make bad stuff vanish.”
You stared at him. “Can you make people disappear?”
He looked at you, grinned slowly. “If that’s your wish, sure.”
You’d stopped crying after that. Something about the way he said it had pulled the tears right back into your chest. You didn’t ask for his name. And you never saw him again. And that strange aura around him.
Years later, you stood in the courtyard of Jujutsu High, watching the new teacher arrive in a blur of chatter.
Tall, white hair, blindfold, such weird taste.
He strolled in, one hand in his pocket and the other waving lazily. “Yo~ Your new teacher is here! Try not to fall in love, alright?”
The other students laughed nervously.
You just stared.
And then he looked at you.
“…Oh,” he said. “You.”
“Have we… met?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just smiled a little, lopsided.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
You frowned, puzzled.
If Gojo Satoru was supposed to be a teacher, no one told him that.
He never explained anything properly. He’d show up late, yawn through explanations, wave his hand and say, “You’ll get it when it’s real.” Then disappear with the wind before you could ask any questions.
And then, during your first few missions, real nearly meant dead.
You remembered shaking so hard in a cold alleyway, breathing through panic as a curse lunged at your face.
Maybe I’m not strong enough for this. Maybe I don’t belong here.
But somehow, you always made it through.
You started paying attention to how the older students fought, how they worked together. You learned to listen, to rely on others instead of pushing them away.
Not like Gojo, not like the others, all fire and confidence. But little by little, you stopped comparing.
Your technique wasn’t showy. You could “mark” a space with your cursed energy. Once marked, you could return to it instantly. One at a time. Five-meter limit. But in tricky situations? It saved your life.
You'd work on your technique more later.
And after all the exhausting teamwork, the debriefs, the training, your favorite part of the day was when it was all over. You loved the quiet space after school. Browsing little shops, running your fingers over trinkets you didn’t plan to buy. It helped you breathe again. After spending so much time around people, it felt like reclaiming part of yourself.
That evening, you were walking out of a bookstore, bag of snacks in hand, when you caught sight of someone across the street.
At first, you thought it was just another tall guy with messy white hair.
But then he shifted, tilted his head up slightly, adjusting the blindfold.
What was he doing?
He was crouched low in an alleyway, facing a brick wall. One hand rested on the ground, the other raised in a position you couldn’t read from this distance. You thought you saw him whisper something.
Then the air around him distorted for a second, like heat waves off concrete. And just like that, he stood up casually and walked away like nothing had happened.
You ducked into the corner of the building. He hadn’t seen you.
You clutched your snack bag tighter, unsure what you’d just witnessed.
-----
The mission had been brutal. Three curses, a caved-in tunnel, and a close call where rusted metal nearly took your arm off. Afterward, Gojo declared that you’d all earned a reward.
"Buffet time!" he announced, grinning like he'd invented the concept of free food. "My treat. Don’t hold back!"
Some students held back on food during group outings, nervous about appearances. But not you. After near-death experiences, you'd learned to savor meals without apology. Food was a victory. A thank you to your body for not giving up.
You were stacking your second helping of fried chicken and curry buns when another plate nudged into view.
"Need a hand?" Gojo asked, suddenly beside you, "What kind of teacher would I be if I let you miss the dessert table?"
"You never help unless you want something."
"Or maybe I'm maturing. Becoming wise."
"Unlikely."
But you let him trail you as you scouted the dessert table.
"You ever think about the kids who used to push you around?"
"...What?"
"Back when you were small."
"Yeah, I remember. It just... stopped one day."
"Just like that?"
"I figured they got bored. Or maybe—" You hesitated. "Maybe someone warned them off."
"I guess that’s when things started to change." you continued quietly. "My mom still didn’t come back, but… I made it work. That’s when I started noticing stuff other people didn’t." You gave a soft, ironic smile. "Turns out, I could see curses. Guess that was the trade-off."
For a beat, he just stood there, plates in hand.
"You seriously don't recognize me?"
"Should I?"
"Nah," he said, "Just saying."
Before you could press, he balanced his stack of dishes and turned back toward the table. "Keep up. If you wanna survive this life, you'll need more calories than that."
----
Gojo was gone again.
Of course he was.
The four of you were sent to handle what should've been an easy job—a village tucked in the mountains where people complained of bad dreams and creeping dread. Your orders were clear: get everyone out, then wait for backup.
At first, it was almost boring. Then the mountain came apart.
One moment, the earth was steady beneath your boots. The next, a deafening crack, the world tilting violently as trees snapped like twigs and a tide of mud and rock swallowed half the town. It didn't feel like an accident. It felt like something had wrenched the ground open.
You were herding the last stragglers to safety when the scream tore through the fog.
You and Sachi met eyes and ran uphill.
And then you saw it.
A curse so massive and malformed it didn’t seem real. Its body was twisted like it was made of teeth and wet soil. The last evacuees were already gone, slashed apart like paper dolls. Sachi gasped beside you, horrified.
This thing would erase you both in seconds.
You dropped your mark behind a thick cluster of trees and lured it away. Sachi mirrored you on the opposite side. It was all you could do. You couldn’t exorcise it. Not even touch it without dying.
But even curses get irritated when their prey won’t die fast enough.
You miscalculated. One second too slow. The thing's arm lashed out and hit you square across the back. You were flung through the underbrush like a ragdoll, gasping at the burning in your chest.
You couldn’t move.
Sachi called out to you, but you’d already pushed your mark onto her jacket earlier. With the last strength in your arm, you forced the cursed technique active.
She vanished from sight, thrown safely back to the base of the hill.
"Run" you coughed.
The curse turned toward you now.
Well… maybe this is a good place to stop.
The air itself seemed to fracture as reality twisted, like the sky itself had split open. In that suspended moment, everything froze, even the monstrous curse looming over you. Then a streak of white flashed across your vision, and suddenly the creature was simply gone.
"Seriously? I leave for one mission and you try to die already?"
You coughed, half-laughing and half-choking. "You were late."
"Got held up" He crouched beside you.
"Sachi’s safe."
Gojo was quiet for a second. Then gave a small, proud-sounding huff.
"You really love being the self-sacrificing type, huh?"
"Only on weekdays."
He laughed once. You felt him lift you off the ground with a ridiculous amount of ease, like you weighed nothing.
"Come on," he said, "buffet’s on me again. After you stop bleeding."
Your vision swam, but you smiled faintly, eyes fluttering.
You woke up to someone yelling your name.
“You’re awake—!” Sachi sobbed, immediately clinging to your arm like a lifeline. “You idiot!”
“...It wasn’t that bad.” you croaked “I’ve had worse papercuts.”
“She said you’d be fine,” Sachi sniffled, pointing at Shoko, who stood at the end of the bed looking mildly amused. “But what if... what if she was wrong?”
“I wasn’t.” Shoko said. “Your cursed energy just hit empty.”
“Still—!” Sachi huffed, but softened, already relieved enough to sulk instead.
You leaned back against the pillow and let the white ceiling blur out your thoughts.
They went to the buffet that evening—Gojo, Sachi, and the other two. Gojo invited you. But you’d quietly declined.
Your body felt better now. Your head, though, still buzzed. Like your nerves hadn’t caught up to your survival yet.
So you stayed in your room, wrapped in your hoodie, a book in your lap and music in your ears. You let yourself disappear between the lines of a novel, chewing slowly through some plain convenience store bread.
You were about to turn the page when you felt it.
That uneasy silence.
Your music was still playing. Your lights still on. But the air shifted in that weird, unnatural way, like a pressure drop before a storm.
Then came the footsteps. Coming down the hallway, stopping just outside your door.
You paused, sitting up.
The shadow cast beneath the door was tall, unmoving.
You weren’t one to scare easily, but something about it sent a chill along your spine. You picked up the desk lamp with a firm grip.
Tiptoed to the door. And opened it.
“…Seriously?” Gojo blinked down at you, looking more amused than surprised.
You stared at him, lamp still raised slightly.
He reeked faintly of alcohol. Not enough to suggest he was drunk. A scent of sweet liquor mixed with citrus, like he didn’t plan to come back smelling like this, but here he was anyway.
“Put the lamp down” he said.
“You scared me.” you muttered, lowering it slowly.
“I knocked” he lied.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Well,” he shrugged, “I meant to.”
You stood in the doorway, the two of you bathed in the warm hallway light. His hands were in his pockets, and his shoulders were relaxed in that particular way people get only when they’re tired but pretending not to be.
“Everyone passed out after dessert.” he said casually. “Didn’t feel like going back yet.”
“So you decided to haunt my hallway like a ghost.”
“Well, you do have the best snacks,” he said, leaning slightly to peek over your shoulder at your untouched bag of senbei on the desk. “Figured I’d steal some.”
You stepped aside.
He didn’t move.
Instead, he looked at you a second longer and asked, “You good?”
“I will be.”
That seemed to satisfy him. He gave a small nod back.
“Alright,” he said. “Just wanted to… check.”
“Why?”
He smiled a little, but there was something tired in his eyes.
“…Guess you remind me of someone.”
You opened your mouth, but he was already turning.
“Get some sleep,” he said over his shoulder, footsteps already retreating down the hallway. “Tomorrow’s boring again.”
You stood still for barely a second before snapping into motion.
You turned back to your desk, yanked open the top drawer, and pulled out the little bag of lollipops you always kept tucked inside. You dug around for a second, ignoring the melon flavor, skipping grape until you found the classic strawberry one.
Slipping out into the hallway, you jogged after him barefoot, lamp-light behind you flickering as you moved. You caught up just as he reached the far end, about to turn the corner.
“Gojo-sensei!”
He stopped, half-turned.
You held out the lollipop.
“…Here.”
He stared down at your hand for a beat. Then blinked, as if it took him a second to process the gesture. Like he’d been miles away in his head.
“That’s…?”
“Payment.” you said.
He huffed out a laugh through his nose, smiling as he took the candy from your palm. His fingers brushed yours just briefly. “Strawberry, huh. You’ve got good taste.”
“And maybe don’t haunt people’s doors smelling like alcohol next time.”
He chuckled again, unwrapping the candy slowly.
“Oh, and take a bath. You smell like a bar. Then go to sleep.”
Gojo stared at the lollipop for a second more, then, suddenly, his expression shifted.
His smile faded, just a little. His shoulders drew in.
And without warning, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you.
He was tall, broad, towering enough that you fit beneath his chin, and the warmth of him felt overwhelming all at once. You could feel the faint tremble in his chest.
“…Uh,” you muttered. “Okay?”
You gave a few awkward pats to his back, unsure what to say.
“You did this to me once, you know” he murmured.
You frowned up at him. “I hugged you?”
He shook his head, still not letting go. “No. You gave me candy and told me to stop smelling bad.”
You squinted, confused. “...Okay?”
But before you could ask what he meant, you gently pushed at his chest.
“Alright, sentimental ghost,” you said. “Back to your room.”
He let go slowly.
As you turned back toward your room, he lingered behind you just long enough to say:
“Thanks.”
You didn’t respond—just gave a half-hearted wave, closed your door, and leaned your back against it.
What was that all about…?
---
You were asleep when the footsteps woke you.
You threw on a jacket and opened your door. The hallway was dim, moonlight pooling through the high windows. You moved quietly.
You followed them. Down the hallway, down the outer stairs. Then across the courtyard, where the air hung strangely still. And then beyond, through the forested back path.
White hair that is visible in the dark. You saw him, Gojo. He was barefoot, wearing only a thin T-shirt and dark pants. His gait was off. Like he was… gliding.
“Is he… sleepwalking?” you whispered to yourself.
He walked through the trees. Down an overgrown slope and into the edges of town. You weren’t even sure why you kept going, maybe instinct, maybe that gnawing curiosity you never grew out of.
And then he turned into a narrow alley.
And vanished.
You ran forward, breath catching in your throat.
He was gone. No trace.
That same blurry ripple you’d seen before. A warping, like something wasn’t lining up with reality. Like you were remembering a dream before it dissolved.
You stared at the shadows for too long.
Then turned around and started back.
Halfway through the forest path, a voice stopped you.
“Why are you here?”
You spun around.
He stood there.
Gojo, now fully present. Dressed differently. Like he’d just woken up himself.
“That’s what I should ask you.”
He stared at you.
“I’m gonna start sleepwalking with barriers if you keep tailing me.”
You didn’t find it funny.
You both walked back in silence.
Nothing happened the next few days. Everything returned to normal.
Until that night.
You woke up to the sound of banging.
Like someone slamming their fist against a wall, over and over.
You sat up in bed.
No one else heard it?
You crept to the door.
Opened it slowly.
A shadow was there. Right in front of you.
You exhaled sharply. “Gojo—?”
But something was off.
And then, his hand lashed forward—unnaturally fast. Fingers wrapped around your throat. You couldn’t breathe.
You hit the floor hard, knees skidding against the wood, vision going dark at the edges. His face was blank. Not like Gojo’s usual blank. But… uncanny.
You kicked, clawed, tried to teleport, but your cursed energy wouldn’t respond.
You were going to die.
“OVER HERE!”
It was Sachi.
She rushed in, curse tool drawn. She saw what you saw. That thing that looked like him. She struck without hesitation.
The impact made the shadow-Gojo reel back, but only for a second.
Then it grabbed her by the arm. And twisted.
The crack was sickening.
The thing slammed her against the floor hard enough to break it. Then dragged her up by the throat.
You watched, helpless, as it drove its hand through her chest.
Blood splattered across the wall.
You couldn’t even scream.
And then the thing turned back to you.
You stared up, shaking, as it tilted its head.
Just as it stepped forward again—
The door shattered inward in a burst of light and force.
And the real Gojo stood there.
The room exploded in pressure and blue light.
You woke up in the infirmary again.
The ceiling looked the same as it did last time. But this time, the ache behind your ribs wasn’t from injury. It was emptier than that.
Shoko sat nearby, arms crossed loosely over her chest. When she noticed your eyes fluttering open, she stood and approached.
“Sachi.. Where is she?”
She didn’t answer. Just gave a quiet shake of her head.
That was all it took.
You turned away and curled in on yourself, letting the weight settle in your chest like wet cloth.
Gone.
You didn’t go to class that day.
The school was silent in its own way about these things. Everyone knew. Your two remaining teammates mourned at her grave that afternoon. You joined them later.
Riku, the boy in your group, calm and thoughtful, stood in silence for a long time with his hands tucked in his jacket sleeves. He barely looked at you, but when your legs finally gave out in front of the gravestone and the tears hit full force, he moved beside you and lent his shoulder without saying a word.
And Aoi, the girl with sun in her voice even when skies turned black, looked close to breaking too. But she held herself together, crouching beside you with a soft nudge “Sachi would beat us up if we cried this long.”
You choked a laugh through the sob.
“This is how Jujutsu life works, huh…” you muttered, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve. “You make friends, lose them, and have to keep going.”
Riku didn’t speak. Just rested a hand on your back.
Aoi nodded slowly, then wiped her own eyes. “So let’s keep going. Together.”
A week passed.
Gojo didn’t return.
You asked Shoko. She didn’t know where he was either.
You wanted answers.
How did that thing get in? Why did it look like him? What was it?
When you finally heard Gojo was back, you didn’t wait.
You just walked straight to the building where he usually hung out, some old classroom in a mostly-unused wing.
You opened the sliding door.
There he was.
Standing near the window. His back to you.
And across from him, other people.
They were tall too.
You didn’t recognize them at first glance, but something about the air shifted the second your foot hit the threshold.
Gojo turned around.
So did the strangers.
Their face looked exactly like his. Off by a fraction.
And Gojo didn’t look surprised to see you.
He looked tired.
Like he knew you’d come.
You didn’t see it coming.
One moment, Gojo and the stranger were staring at you, the next, something cracked against the back of your head.
You woke up slowly, like crawling through mud.
Your hands were tied.
Gojo sat across from you in a chair, arms resting lazily on his knees, blindfold gone.
“Hey.”
You didn’t reply.
“Still hurts? Sorry. I didn’t want it to be rough. But I couldn’t let you leave.”
“…What did you do?”
He leaned back in his chair, let out a sigh. “The thing you saw, that was… let’s call it an experiment.”
He continued. “I didn’t think it would become that aggressive, honestly. I just wanted to see if it could function on its own. Didn’t expect it to kill one of my students.”
“Sachi..” you whispered. “She’s dead because of you.”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he said, “But I’ll take responsibility. That’s why I’m telling you the truth.”
“Why me?”
Gojo looked at you. His eyes were painfully blue. And hollow.
"Back when I was losing myself," he said, "you reached out without even realizing it. I never forgot that."
“That doesn’t give you the right—”
“Maybe not.” He stood, walked toward you. “But I’ve already made up my mind.”
You flinched when he reached down.
His lips barely grazed yours, a whisper of contact.
You sank your teeth into his bottom lip.
Blood bloomed metallic across your tongue.
He didn’t even react. Just pulled away with the faintest smirk, licking the blood from his lip.
“Don’t worry. I’m not mad. You’ll see,” he said gently. “I only did this for you. I’ll eliminate everything that hurts you. Everything that stands between us.”
You stared at him, horrified. “You’re insane.”
He smiled again.
You were reported missing by the school two days later.
----EPILOGUES----
(1) ♡
The silence was broken by a faint sizzling sound.
You sat stiffly in the chair, half-watching as Gojo moved around the kitchen.
He wore a pale-blue apron over a simple black shirt, sleeves rolled up. He cracked an egg into a pan and turned over his shoulder.
“Any cravings? I’m open to requests.” he said casually. “Even those ridiculous sour noodles you like.”
You didn’t answer.
He only smiled.
"You're still giving me that look." he noted, stirring sugar into your abandoned coffee with infuriating calm. "I'm playing house with you. Voluntarily. You should feel special."
“I want to eat outside.”
“Pick something I can cook.”
“I want you to burn the kitchen down.”
He turned off the stove. Walked over. Leaned down and brushed your cheek with a thumb.
“I like it when you fight.” he said. “But don’t starve yourself over pride. You won’t win.”
You didn’t move. But your jaw tightened.
He walked back, still humming softly.
----
2) ♡♡
The mark was set.
You waited for him to fall asleep, or at least to leave. The moment the air quieted and his cursed presence faded to a whisper, you activated your technique.
Thud.
You hit something hard.
Your curse bounced back and dropped you right into the floor of the hall.
You coughed, groaned, and looked up.
Only to see him leaning casually in the doorway.
“Well,” Gojo said, “ten out of ten for creativity.”
“You were watching?”
“Oh, the whole time,” he said, walking over. “Let you think you had a chance. Kinda cute, honestly.”
You scrambled up, backing away.
He moved faster than you could blink, pressing you gently against the wall, one hand flat beside your face, lips hovering near your ear.
“I’m not mad,” he whispered. “But if you ever actually get out, I’ll erase the whole damn city looking for you.”
His tone dropped lower.
“Don’t make me prove that.”
---
3) ♡♡♡
He left.
Didn’t say when he’d return.
Just gave some vague line—“I’ll be back soon”—and left you with two unfamiliar attendants and a sealed house.
Days passed.
The servants didn’t answer much. They gave you food, books, whatever you asked for within limits. But it was like living in a gilded cage.
And when he finally returned, you didn’t even look at him.
You heard the front door open. His shoes. The pause when he noticed the untouched food.
He found you by the window, curled up with your back to the door.
“You didn’t eat?”
Silence.
“Did they treat you okay?”
Still nothing.
And then he walked over, knelt beside you.
“I’m sorry.”
You turned your face away.
"I shouldn’t have left that long."
You didn’t expect the blanket he draped around your shoulders.
That one self aware jjk post but with a twist?! A little silly idea I had, hope you guys enjoy it!
characters — Geto and Gojo (separately)
tw: Very much OOC, yandere (of course), self aware au, cult leader!geto, feral Gojo is the best flavor of Gojo, if I miss any warnings, please let me know! No beta, we die like Toji
taglist: @tremendousdinosaurpizza, @brontknee and @stargirl404
25... 26... 27... 28... 29...
The slow ascent of the elevator moves towards home, though, considering how still the compartment is, sometimes it feels like it's not moving at all. It's just you and the rising machine.
It's peaceful, in a way if you ignore the sinking dread that the elevator might drop at any moment.
Time in this confined space seems to move slow, agonizingly slow. You awkwardly fumble for your phone even though you're the only one in this elevator.
Your own face stares back on the cool glass–unruly hair, dark circles under your eyes like you fought your own schedule and lost. Fingers trailing down the edge of the smooth phone case–yet your fingers tighten ever so slightly. The plastic bag crinkles in your other hand.
There is a crack in the upmost right corner of the device.
You vaguely remember how it got that crack. It was another dull day, buzzing luminescence overhead, dust motes dancing lazily in your vision, flipping through stacks of manga or absentmindedly scrolling through your device. It was one of those days, where the boredom was stretched to it's absolute limit, like those filler episodes an anime would present that didn't connect to the storyline whatsoever.
The phone was angled standing near the cup so you can watch on another device, you were doing something on your computer. Maybe the music or the imagination your head was so good that you somehow managed to knock over your own drink–and your phone. Both went flying over the table and onto the floor.
The porcelain cup shattered on contact with the wooden floor, the liquid oozing from it's white cage while the phone tumbled down further away from you–it cracked from the impact. There was only one thin line trailing down from the upmost right corner.
Strange, you thought there will be more.
38... 39... 40... Ting!
Oh, it's your floor.
The elevator doors slides open with a hushed groan as you walk towards your apartment, shoes silent against the floor. You reach your door at the end of the corridor, hands already diving into your pockets searching for your keys.
The sliver glint of the key slid into the keyhole, turning multiple times until a faint click! can be heard from within. Your hands landed on the handle, and with the creak of the hinges, you gently push the door open...
You barely even opened the door as the sharp stench of copper hits like a slap to the face. You recoil slightly, instinctively taking a step back. What the hell happened here? Your mind reels, trying to remember before you left the apartment.
Your hand twitches slightly, as if protesting against you to investigate further. You push the door further in anyway.
The apartment was dark, too dark. Like there was something prowling in the void where the living room was supposed to be. Sweat beads trail down your forehead as you take one, hesitant step towards the darkness. Your legs were already shaking.
Two orbs of cerulean stare back, bright enough to pierce the darkness of your apartment. Your hands shakily searched for the light switch. By the time you switch on the lights, the sight makes your breath hitch.
Him. A man in black clothes, blindfold pulled down. Six foot three inches of 'Oh god he's hot' stood in the center of the room. White hair like clouds ruffled and unruly sat on top his head as he stares you down like a predator sizing up prey. And his eyes–god–his eyes were like the sky itself. Big, bright and blue. It felt like Six Eyes judging your very soul itself and suddenly, the room felt suddenly smaller.
Being severely uncomfortable by the staring contest between you and the man, your eyes wander down to his hands and you wished you didn't. There was blood on his knuckles (probably his.. you hope), and it's still dripping down into the floor with a wet plink plink that echoed in the room.
No one moved, the air itself seemed to hold it's breath until the white-haired man smiled. A twisted smile appeared on his face that unnerved you even more. "You..." He breathed. "It's you."
Your mouth opens, and closes. Dumbfounded, you had nothing to say–metaphorically and literally–the words stuck in your throat as you tried to make sense of the situation. Why is there a man in your home? And more specifically, why the hell does he look like.. Satoru Gojo?
"Uh," the word slips from your tongue, do you really have anything to say about this? You can't even form rational sentences. The man steps forward, reaching for you with his bleeding hands. Alarms finally blare in your head as your feet try to pivot back to the door. But Satoru was faster.
In a heartbeat, he traps you in between himself and the door-when did the door close??-towering over you like a silent monolith. The close proximity made your lungs constrict. You can practically feel the warmth of his breath. Satoru just stares at you, unblinking. Azure eyes filled with... longing?
"It's really you." The back of his hand meets your face. "Your skin is warm. Soft." Now that he mentioned it. His skin does feel unnervingly cold, like metal.
"Can I-" The words abruptly cut off as he plucks the plastic bag from your grip with startling gentleness and threw it onto the table.
"Nope!" And he's back to his normal self. Satoru plops himself on the couch, sinking slightly under his weight as he pats the empty space beside it. "Come! I wanna tell everyone I'm still alive! The recent chapters were lying."
The lights were already on when you opened the door. You sucked in a shaky breath. I left the lights on? should've been the first, logical thought that appeared in your brain.
You gently nudged the door with the tip of your shoes, creaking wider. Maybe this was just some mistake. Some simple miscalculation when you left your home in a hurry. Then, it would all be forgotten in the endless days of sleep, eat and anime marathons.
The living room was still messy where you once left it. The couch full of unkept blankets and pillows, the TV still on-still paused on a video you were watching a few hours earlier and the instant ramen on the coffee table was probably cold by now. But, something was definitely off. Like something darker that you don't want to say out loud.
But there was something darker afoot.
Something skittered in the stretched shadows under furniture, quick and fleeting. You dont investigate, your legs still locked in place as your eyes quickly land on a person on the other side of the room.
A man in monk robes is sitting on your sofa. And oh, he was the most beautiful man you ever set your eyes on. Long, black hair like spilled ink flowed on his shoulders, purple eyes crinkling into narrow slits as he tilted his head upwards to face you. His lips curve into a pleasant smile that didn't reach his eyes as he stood up with a rush of meeting an old-time friend. It looked like he was expecting you, and he probably was.
"Hey." He announced with that tilt of the head, eyes curving into familiar crescents you've only seen on the anime. Geto Suguru, you realized. "I've been waiting." The man said it so casually as if greeting a friend.
"You... were?" You were abruptly taken aback by how nice he is treating you, considering his.. behavior towards non-sorcerers. You took a risk. "How long?"
"A while." Suguru didnt explain further, his eyes dropped to the plastic bag clenched in your hand. "You took your time."
"Uh.. It's just snacks.." Trying casual conversation with a literal anime character is harder than it looks.
"You've been tense since you came in." Suguru seems to loom over you, you've haven't noticed that he moved a little too close for comfort. "I assume you can see the curses, right?" As if to prove his point, a wriggling centipede thing skittered between legs. You stiffen, and Suguru's smile widened at the reaction.
Something like satisfaction plastered itself on the monk's face. "I always wondered if your kind still saw curses even behind a screen, unlike those monkeys." Outright scorn flashed for a split second, before it smoothed back to calm nonchalance. "You always fascinate me, dear watcher, I believe we would enjoy each other's company from now on."
a/n: hi guys, sorry for the late post. I hope you enjoy! Very rushed because ain’t no way this took months to finish this.
