Untitled SI/OC-Kuna fic thingamajig Chapter 1
if I ever finally get brave enough to make this public, then like, hi
This doesn't really even have a proper name yet, and this is my first ever time writing fanfic. It's primarily just a way to archive my work in case I accidentally delete a chapter again (I already lost my original chapter two bc of stupidity)
Other than that, there'll probably be errors and stuff since it's a barely edited draft + I tend to just freeflow my brain when writing stuff. Mostly very short chapters (I have five so far, most of them below 1,00 words) and a few that are essentially just scenes rewrites + bad monologue
updates, if I actually keep up motivation to continue writing new stuff, will probably be very erratic and there's no guarantee I end up actually finishing stuff… kinda unserious at points + I don't actually have any kind of plot planned, it's kinda closer to just solo-roleplay written out than a proper work of fiction tbh. Don't have an ao3 acc or I would post this on there
I mainly found out abt the whole self insert sukuna world from @overly-verbose and this fic is very inspired by them and that whole sphere
(also I might kinda lose this acc / not even be able to actually post this bc I REFUSE to verify emails on stuff)
Anyways, if I didn't chase you off with my rambling and kinda self degrading stupidity then like, enjoy I guess!!
It was an impossibility that never should have been able to happen; it was something that never could have existed outside of hypotheticals.
It was a dream, most definitely. Something that was conjured because he'd been daydreaming, (perhaps it was better called night dreaming? Or would that just be dreaming?), a bit too much before he fell asleep.
The moonlight streamed down, covering the face that felt so irregular, so abnormal to its normal appearance. He'd barely processed the reflexive way the form in front of him had been shredded. Purple liquid and chunks of blue flesh scattered in the air, propelled upward by the speed at which it had been torn apart.
He glanced down at his hands. The strange feeling of only having two was prominent, yet so was the wonder for why he'd expect to have any more. There were black lines along his wrists. But, more importantly, beyond that wonder, his nails seemed sharpened into dark claws. Inhuman, beastly.
Eyelashes fluttered below his eyes. Eyelids opened, expanding his range of vision. His gaze traced the rooftop area and the buildings beyond it. The place he could see was the city lights in the nighttime.
Unconsciously, he drifted closer to the edge. The scenario felt like a scene from animation. And almost like—
A hand, no, his hand, grabbed at his face. Movement that wasn't his forced him to stumble backwards. "Huh?" His mouth, the mouth, moved. "What d'yu think you're doing with my body? Give it back!"
"What?" That was the immediate word that left his mouth. "How are you doing that?" There was an odd sense of deja vu that permeated the conversation, but he couldn't yet figure out why.
"Well, it's my body!" The other him replied.
From somewhere behind him, a new voice yelled out, "Don't move! You're no longer human." When his body, his vessel, turned to the source, he was greeted with a strange sight.
"Under jujutsu regulations, I shall exorcise the curse known as…" Though it seemed more similar to life than some sort of anime, the boy looking back at him was straight out of one. Megumi Fushiguro, an important character of hit anime: Jujutsu Kaisen!! "Yuji Itadori!"
If he was looking straight at Megumi, and he sure as fire not Itadori, then there was only really one possibility left.
Please tell him he didn't get isekaid as the King of Curses of all things!
"No, really, I'm feeling fine!" Yuji stated. "More importantly, you and I are pretty beat up. We need to get to a hospital."
Megumi, (perhaps "Sukuna" should refer to him as Fushiguro), remained stone-faced, if a bit more wary looking.
…Wait, did "Sukuna" even still remember his name? He couldn't dig up the information, as hard as he tried to; nor his age, or even really half of how he lived. Yet, this didn't seem to elicit any panic, despite the clear form of memory loss.
The ability of still generally being able to assess the surroundings while still very much not in control of Itadori's body was strange. And, on the topic of that, Sukuna probably, definitely, needed to figure out how to act like a supervillain. He was literally meant to be the pure evil villain of a series! How was he meant to do that?!
"What's the situation?" A new speaker, Gojo frickin' Satoru, practically materialized beside Fushiguro.
"Gojo-sensei?! Why are you here?" Fushiguro turned his head to glance at the blindfolded man.
"Yo!" He raised a hand. "I wasn't planning on coming, but man, you're really roughed up! I should show the second years." Gojo clearly snapped a picture or two.
All normal things that happened in the anime, to be sure. Probably. (You couldn't always remember all of a series, could you? You couldn't.) Sukuna probably hadn't messed anything up with the plot, yet.
"The higher ups wouldn't shut up after hearing that a special grade cursed object had gone missing. I agreed to come as long as they also gave me time to see the sights," Gojo said. "So, did you find it?"
"Uhm…" Itadori raised his hand slowly. "Sorry, I ate it."
Gojo stared, as much as someone with their eyes covered could stare. "For real?"
"For real," the two teenagers replied. Gojo bent sideways, seemingly looking Itadori over. He leaned in, uncomfortably close.
"Hah.. you're not kidding. They've combined. That's hilarious." Gojo leaned back. "Anything off with your body?"
Sukuna paid no attention to Itadori looking his body over, for he was more focused on the request that followed immediately after.
"Can you switch with Sukuna?"
Okay, he needed a plan, and fast, too. He needed to act kind of generically evil and maybe a bit ominous. He needed to make sure it seemed like Itadori could feel him in. And especially, he couldn't mess with the outcome of things, dream or not. Not yet, at least.
"Sukuna?" Itadori parroted.
"The cursed object you just ate." Gojo made a vague gesture, pointing to his lips. He watched Itadori realize what, who, he was talking about.
Hey? You in there, Sukuna? The pink-haired, now-vessel of his was clearly trying to make contact.
Sukuna's brain, despite the scheming, was all too clear for someone who possibly had just been thrown into another world, or was lucid dreaming, or was in some kind of coma induced unconsciousness. Maybe some kind of bad isekai logic applied, but that was not a wonder for right now.
He needed to figure out how to utilize their weird vessel-curse telepathy, probably. Maybe it'd work if he just thought about it working. He'd just be rude and throw in a 'brat' every now and then. That'd work.
"Ten seconds. Take control again after ten seconds," Gojo instructed.
"Don't worry! I'm the strongest jujutsu sorcerer," he dismissed easily, off-loading a bag into Fushiguro's hands. "Megumi, hold on to this."
The, likely paper, bag landed easily in the spiky-haired boy's hands. However, conversations faded into the background as Sukuna was forced forth by Itadori.
He attempted to lead with a light chuckle, clearly drawing attention from Fushiguro, but the blindfolded sorcerer did not move. Maybe he should just run forward and attack, maybe—
It may have been a pebble, or cursed energy, or maybe just the air itself, but something was tossed at him. He sidestepped it surprisingly quickly, and the object whizzed past him.
He was sure he must've looked shocked, but instead his expression seemed to shift into a grin on its own. That wasn't his doing, right? But it worked! So…
"How rude, sorcerer." His eyes tracked the cloud of what looked like fog. Was this what cursed energy looked like? Perhaps it wasn't, but it seemed to be so.
"I'm sure the king of curses is one to talk," Gojo said easily. He stretched lightly as Sukuna readied a stance.
Sukuna could play it off like he wished to fight. That could work! That was probably what happened originally, too! And he didn't yet have much power, so if he really messed up it could easily be blamed on that.
That could work. That would work. If he believed in the plan hard enough, it would clearly occur.
Rushing forwards, he swiped his hand in a motion that would have gotten claws swiped across the white-haired sorcerer's face, but it didn't land. The man in question simply spoke up from directly behind Sukuna,
"I've got a student watching, so I hope you don't mind if I show off a bit." Gojo hit Sukuna on the back of the head, but the latter spun around and put space between them.
Sukuna continued to rush for Gojo's current position, still being at least just out of reach for each swipe.
It was certainly an adrenaline-heavy activity; plus, it was likely Sukuna had gained the benefits of either the original Sukuna's stamina or Itadori's. If he had simply been in his previous body, he probably would have been out of breath at that point.
Maybe he should say something. It didn't seem very Sukuna-esque to just stay silent the entire fight. He took another hit and slid along the ground. What to say, what to say?
But just as he was about to say something…
"Nine. Should be about time," Gojo murmured.
Sukuna could feel his grasp on his vess— Itadori's body slipping. It was an uncomfortable sensation, like that feeling in your stomach when you got overly anxious. He could see why canon Sukuna did not like the feeling. His head fell slowly, only to be forced out of control.
However, rather than the first time, he was greeted with a space rather than what felt like watching gameplay you couldn't control. It was his innate domain, right? The space Itadori had been in that time he died.
An ocean of red coated the floor; the shape of a ribcage hung over the mass of space, high in the sky. A mountain of skulls was piled together, forming an almost-throne. It was a lot more ominous seeing it in person.
But then again, it was his now, right? He'd stay residing here for months on end. This was his residence to plot in! What fun, sort of. There didn't seem to be much to do from within the innate domain.
Oh, and Itadori was most definitely unconscious by the way he could no longer feel any sensation of what was going on outside his space. Oh well! There was no way Gojo or Fushiguro was going to let Itadori be executed.
He needed to start figuring out what he was meant to bug Itadori about via weird mental telepathy. He couldn't just be silent all the time, that'd be suspicious. Even if he would rather just stay quiet as he spectated. But that's fine! He just had to be evil, or something. Be generically evil, too-long monologues, and everything would be fine!
Everything would be fine.
