tw: explicit content. geto/reader. gojo/geto, gojo/reader. heavily implied incest. toxic dynamics (geto and reader have ulterior motives for having sex).
it really is surprising, how much you look like him up close.
pressed up against you as he is, cock grinding against your entrance to slick it up, suguru can see you in immaculate detail.
and fuck, are you beautiful.
but of course you are; from your pretty pale eyelashes, to the smooth curve of your face, that charming nose and inviting lips; you resemble satoru from your features, to your sultry but shy mannerisms.
somehow he always managed to be slutty, demanding, and act like a virgin being ravished all at once.
from how you're acting? must be genetic.
the only thing missing is a pair of glowing eyes piercing through him. but the look you're giving him now is good enough.
"come on," you pant, hands squeezing where you've grabbed him by the shoulders, "put it in already."
suguru isn't sure why you're in such a hurry. he's not sure why you're fucking him, either; he knows satoru won't like this.
he finds, as he watches your face flush when he smirks down at you, chuckling lowly and lining himself up with your entrance, that he doesn't care.
so pretty. so lovely. white-haired, blue eyed, squirming underneath him, lashes fluttering as your whole form shivers when he holds you down. you're just like him.
maybe that's why he's able to get it up. he's never been that interested in women - never interested in anyone, until satoru.
and then you came along. you approached him, with your pretty face and unmistakable features.
to piss off satoru? or maybe you were angry at him for stealing your brother away, and this was your way of trying to ruin things between them?
none of those thoughts stop him from driving his cock into your wet, inviting cunt, groaning as he feels you shudder underneath him.
his hands are so big on your body. your skin is the same, and the lean, lanky build, but you're softer than satoru. not as squirmy. easier to hold.
you feel so good in his hands. easy to bruise, too, he thinks, as you whimper in a way that makes his heart ache (and his dick throb).
and the way you clench him - you're not as tight as satoru, but you're wet. slick and hot and snug in a way he's never been.
he'd always tell satoru they should use more lube, and he'd always insisted it was fine, the little masochist.
it's a marvel. he just glides through you, slick and giddy while your cunt just seems to embrace him. like it never wants to let him go. like this is where he belongs.
jesus. fuck satoru for having such a hot sister. fuck him for the fit he's inevitably going to throw when he finds out -
he smiles to himself while he looks down at you, all teary-eyed and panting from the stretch of him. prefect and ruined.
oh. he has an idea. he knows what he's going to do.
"you like that, gojo?" he purrs, grinding up into you, reaching down to rub over your clit with his thumb.
it's thrilling, the way you jerk at the touch, seizing up in pleasure, whimpering and squeezing his shoulders while you nod shyly.
fuck, fuck, you're beautiful.
and why wouldn't you be? you're a gojo, through and through.
he can call you gojo, but he always calls your brother satoru.
if he calls satoru "gojo" when he fucks him - then he'll know something is up. that geto is fucking another gojo and trying not to slip up.
his grin gets wider, thrusts faster. your legs lock around him, hips bucking up to meet him.
god, it's good. you feel so fucking good.
he rubs faster on your clit, until your whimpering grows high, breathy, until your nails are digging beautiful marks into his shoulder that he's sure satoru won't miss.
you haven't told him not to, either, so with one last thrust and a deep, resounding groan, he cums inside you, all hot and throbbing and euphoric.
"gojo!" he groans out, and it's not even that hard to keep his name from his lips -
She didn’t know Itadori Yuji well. She had only met him for a few minutes when he was passed out and thrown onto one of the many medical bay beds by Gojo. Had patched up the rather small cuts and bruises, listened as the tall teacher described the King of Curses. Then sent him on his way.
Shoko hadn’t seen Itadori again until he was a corpse on her table.
It wasn’t that Shoko was sadden by this strange boy’s loss. Not entirely. She had no attachments or thoughts on the boy. Even when he had gotten everyone talking.
No, it was more about what Itadori Yuji represented in that moment.
Death was a common thing to happen within their world. Every day it was something new. Whether it be non-sorcerer, sorcerer, or a random animal, there was death to be following. Random at most, but there were few instances where it was intentional. Where the grapevine of gossip lead to something catastrophic. That it lead to the death of a young sorcerer with great potential.
Itadori hadn’t been the first to die. And he certainly wasn’t the last.
No. No, Shoko could recall her first vividly.
First, it had been Yomada Han in their first year. A third year that had been the last of his class. He’d run into a trouble, died messily. It’d been the first time she dissected a body. The first time she threw up over it too. It’d been the first time she had a cigarette too.
He’d been sent off to slaughter because of his hand in some clan mess. They thought it was justification enough for his murder death.
Dissecting and seeing death got a little easier from then. Shoko didn’t throw up anymore. She didn’t get angry or question why someone was on her slab. It was just what happened. She came to accept it.
The second had been… well, Gojo Y/N.
Shoko was still unclear on what exactly happened that day. She can just recall the dread and sickness that flushed over her when she saw her sprawled out on the cot. The way Gojo’s voice shook and pleaded with her— desperately trying to appease to Shoko’s good side as if she hadn’t wanted to save her. As if that’s the only thing Shoko wanted to do.
She’d seen a lot by then. Geto’s chest wide open, the insides of various students and curses, bloody limbs. But she had never seen something quite like that.
It was so surreal to have been speaking to someone a day before, smiling and laughing, sharing touches and secrets. Then have half of their brains scattered on your table the next.
Still and silent. The entire time she had been still and silent.
It was all so sickening.
Shoko hadn’t even been able to take a step towards her before she was throwing up the food she’d consumed in the last 24 hours. Tears flushing down her cheeks and bile rising in her throat. Brains trailed into the room and blood dripped from the end of the table onto the ground like a leaky faucet.
She was sick. She was sick. Shoko couldn’t stop being sick.
Then, she hadn’t been sure what to do as the white haired boy pleaded and cried. As his twin remained limp in his hold. Shoko had just watched with trembling lips, shaking hands pressed against her mouth.
She was dead before she was even found.
Shoko had concluded such during the autopsy. As she pushed tears away behind her protective goggles, cutting into her… her….(what? Her friend? Her friend.) As she cut into her friend’s bones and body. Gojo Y/N had been dead the moment the curse made contact and dealt the blow. The moment her skull cracked open and her brain turned to mush, she was gone.
At least, that’s what she reassured Gojo and Geto (and herself) with.
"They said it was a Grade Two," Gojo had said in a whisper, slumped in his seat, eyes uncharacteristically vacant as he stared at the ground. A hollowness that embraced them all was evident and clear. "They sent her with Nanami and Haibara because it was a Grade Two. So why are they both dead? Why is my sister dead? Why was it a fucking Local Deity? It was a Special Grade!"
Gojo had broken down then. A mess of rage full tears as he uttered on about how it was a mistake. One that costed his other half, since birth, to die. It was surreal to see the Strongest reduced to this. A bumbling mess. While he tried to piece together the puzzle of death. As he questioned the justification behind his sister’s death.
Shoko had wished she was afforded the same.
"Satoru," Geto had whispered, oddly blank and hollow himself. As he always had been back then. For a year he’d been a husk of who he once was. Body always tense, always frail and alert. Tired and withering. "You know how she is… was. She would’ve tried saving Haibara no matter the grade."
Haibara had been the third.
He held out longer than her. Given that she’d jumped in front of the curse to save him. Still, he’d been split in half. Nanami only retrieving his upper half with a pale face and hollow eyes. Still, he died.
What was the point of her dying if the one she saved died too?
Shoko wasn’t sure
And neither was Gojo.
"Yeah, and now there two dead sorcerers!" Gojo had shot from his chair. Fast enough that it bounced off the wall and made a horrible sound throughout the empty hallway. Shoko could recall the way she flinched back the moment she felt Gojo's technique fire up. A barrier between him and the people he cared about. An unrelenting and unchecked power that kept his rage contained. "W-Who even cares about Haibara—?"
"Satoru." Geto's tone had darkened considerably. His face shadowed under the flickering fluorescent lights. Any other time Shoko would've ran away. She would've made some comment about them being annoying trash, then stalk off with her in her shadow.
Not now. Not ever again.
Gojo's face crumbled, he grew desperate at Geto's call, "I... Why does it have to be her?" His eyes split to Shoko, narrowed and angry. "I thought you could do something."
Shoko, taken aback, had tensed. "Half of her brain—"
"You love her, right?" Gojo had continued, ruthlessly, "Right?"
A nod.
"Then you should've saved her!"
"Satoru!" Geto's hand wrapped around Gojo's arm, pulling him away. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"I'm wrong?"
"Yes!"
"What the fuck do you know, Suguru?"
"What do I know? I know that you're..."
Their voices had faded away as Shoko stared endlessly at Gojo's previous spot. A well of tears collecting in her eyes as her hands buried deep within her pockets, clenched and shaking. Her technique was great, it was amazing. She'd done a lot even before she was 18.
So why couldn't she save her?
It stuck around with her for a long time. Well after Gojo had stomped off with tears flowing down his face. Well after Geto had conjured up the last bits of his fake kindness and apologized, tried to comfort Shoko. Well after she was alone in her dorm, holding onto the pieces of her that were suddenly all Shoko had left.
Death was sudden. It was the last curtain call. In their line of work, there was usually no time for goodbyes or last words. Much like this situation. It was inevitable and everyone would meet their making sooner or later— it was only a matter of when. It was better to accept you wouldn't get nice little bows in at the end of your life instead of constantly thinking about it.
Still, Shoko had wondered if there was a possibility she could've saved her. Wondered what she would've said in her last moments if she had the chance to say goodbye.
It was a bad downward spiral to commit herself to. Especially when she was alone in the dark, laying in her bed, staring endlessly at the ceiling above.
It was flat-out dangerous to wonder when she was wrist deep in her chest cavity.
Shoko was best for it. Allegedly. She was the best bet to tell them all exactly what happened to her technique and body as she died.
Originally, Shoko had been tempted to just write that Gojo Y/N lost her brain. What else was there to report? What else could her family possibly want to know?
But then bitter curiosity got the best of her. She needed to know everything. She didn't even care about what the Gojo's wanted to know. Shoko herself had to know if her soul— if the technique just... vanished.
She wasn't really sure what she expected when she stood over her in the morgue. How she would possibly cut her open and scoop out her organs as if she hadn't been speaking to her two days ago. Had been engaged in conversations. Blushing when their hands brushed against one another. As if she hadn't—
"Shoko, what do you want while we're gone?" She had stopped by before they were to be sent off, lightly sprinkled white H/C hair. Expression light, but serious, as it usually was. "Treats, shirt, another body for you to pick around in? Ew, by the way."
Usually, a girl wouldn't think anything of it. But Shoko, elbow deep within a curse, blushed like she was an elementary girl. "Sorry"
She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, smile small yet tender, "So? What does sweet, sweet Shoko-chan want as a souvenir?"
Shoko always had a hard time believing Y/N was a Gojo. Especially the same product line of Gojo Satoru, who was just... the opposite of her. This girl was intelligent and kind, beautiful and timid. Self-aware, selfless, and She wasn't anything like the boy she shared the womb with, or birthday, or name. A twin. Same blood, same name, everything them. But so distinctly different.
"I'm not really interested in anything." Shoko had replied with a tilt of her lips and a shrug of her shoulders, pulling away from the curse corpse to face her fully.
Y/N's eyebrows raised, "Really? You're not interested in a single thing?"
"Not really," She walked closer, "What did the others get?"
"Oh, uh, I'm not entirely sure—"
"Gojo-senpai!" Haibara had barreled around the corner, loud and grinning, his hair flopping as he bounced around. "Geto-senpai would like something sweet for himself and your brother!"
She had released a bitter sound, fond and amused, but bitter all the same, "Of course he'd be thinking about Satoru." She turned back to Shoko with a small tilt of her lips. "You sure you don't want anything, Shoko?"
Shoko wondered if things would be different if she said anything else than what she had. If she asked for some ridiculous sweet or a stupid shirt, would things have ended differently? If she kept her around for a little longer, would someone realize the misclassification of the curse? Could Shoko have done something?
Who knows. All she said was, "Just come back. That's enough for me."
Her face had scrunched up, a light laugh leaving her as she turned, waving a hand, "Just for you, Shoko! See you around."
It wasn't anything special. Her goodbye had been a teasing promise. A nonchalant wave. Nothing special. Another day. It wasn't anything special.
So why did it have to be the last?
The autopsy ended abruptly. As Shoko held onto a trash bin, sobbing and throwing up the little food she had in the past two days, Yaga put it in the hands of someone much older. Much more detatched.
Gojo Y/N had died almost instantly. Before she could even activate her technique.
That sparked up a chatter at her funeral.
If the affair wasn't sickening and horribly in the first place, the conversation that took place most certainly was.
The people that attended outside of Shoko and Geto where just some old clan members either from the "Big Three" or some lowly ones. They all kind of just loitered around as they ate food and conversated. Nothing exciting, nothing entirely too telling of their grief either.
She couldn't ever recall Gojo or Y/N talking much about the other clans. If only to drag them through the mud, express their great distaste, or general displeasure. Shoko just knew that an occasion like this, filled with old people and terribly traditional things, was something that the girl nor her brother wanted. She knew that they all like the Gojo's about as much as the Gojo's liked them. Which was not very much.
It was only as Shoko was using the bathroom that she overheard what they truly thought.
"I heard that she didn't even have the time to activate her technique before it killed her."
"It's not like her technique would've done much against a Special Grade anyway. The Six Eyes got all the potential. If anything, that boy that got killed alongside her had more skill."
"I thought she had some type of power?"
"That's just a lie the family put out to calm their egos. They gave birth to the Six Eyes while giving birth to a useless girl right after."
"Poor thing."
"I wouldn't worry. The girl was a bit airheaded, she probably didn't even know she was boring."
It took everything in Shoko not to snap. To not ruin their gossip with her petulant cries of anger. It was just wrong. What they thought of her. There's never been something so wrong.
Y/n was different and amazing, magnificent and interesting. She was strong in ways that Gojo wasn't. She could hold her own. She was intelligent on things outside of jujutsu just as much as she was in things regarding jujutsu. Shoko wasn't sure where they got their information but it was wrong. It'd always been wrong.
Seven days later, Geto killed an entire village.
Thought about her and Haibara the whole time. The mountain of bodies that came with being a sorcerer. Killed 112 people just because he was angry and sad. At least, that's what Geto had said to her.
Shoko wished she could've destroy a whole village in her grief.
Those are all the things Shoko thought as she slips on her gloves, glancing back at where Gojo and Ijichi were standing in the corner.
"Hey, you guys, I'm gonna get started," Shoko says flatly, with her usual detachment. It'd been years since she felt uncomfortable or disgusted with this job. Just a normal routine now. "You gonna just sit there and watch?"
She snaps her glove into place at the same time Ijichi's face visibly pales and his jaw drops, Gojo's own face screwing up into something akin to shock. She was about to ask what was wrong, but—
"Whoa! Full frontal!"
Shoko whirls around to look at Itadori Yuji who looks, shockingly, fine.
Well, Shoko's never had someone come back to life in her morgue before. (No matter how much she's begged.)
She tugs down her mask, staring at the boy with disappointment, "Well, this is too bad."
Itadori blinks, a faint blush on his cheeks, "Um... who are you?"
"Yuji!" Gojo stands, a beaming grin on his lips as he walks forward, hand extended. "Welcome back!"
The teen lets out a loud laugh, clapping his hand against his teacher's for a loud slap that almost makes Shoko wince.
"I'm back!" Itadori cheers, smiling back.
"You sure are!" Gojo then tucks his hands into his jacket, turning around to face Shoko and Ijichi. "Hey, can I speak to you outside for a minute? Ijichi, get Yuji something to change into."
"O-Of course, Gojo-san!"
Shoko doesn't even dignify Gojo a response, lazily making her way out of the room with bored eyes. There went an afternoon of digging through Sukuna's vessel's organs and finding out what made him so different from the others. What allowed him to inhabit the King of Curses while so many others had died trying. It would make for perfect research. Fun and interesting.
But the kid just had to wake up. From death.
(She tired to ignore how many times she'd imagined her waking up on her table too.)
"Ugh, now I have to go back and change the report." Shoko utters bitterly once the two adults are outside.
"No, leave it as is." Shoko snaps her eyes to Gojo, who keeps his carefree smile on his face. "Before he's targeted again, I'd like to at least give Yuji some basic training. Please leave him listed as deceased in the report."
Shoko frowns, tucking her hands into her pockets, "Then Yuji will have to go into hiding for good."
"Nah, I'll have him ready in time for the Goodwill Event."
The Goodwill Event. Now, that was something she wasn't entirely concerned with. Something she didn't think Gojo was either.
"Why?" Shoko utters.
"Easy. I refuse to keep that kid from losing the best years of his life. Not just him, but everyone."
The way he says it is tender and true. Said with his heart and his soul. Despite how childish Gojo has always been, he's been terribly aware of when kids should be kids. Something he'd been keenly aware of when he was a kid himself.
Gojo suddenly tilts his head, smile distant and incredibly sad, "Not to mention... he kind of reminds me of Y/N, y'know?"
Shoko's steps falter. They've never really engaged in a conversation about her before. Never really a chance or reason to. Shoko figured they always had their own thoughts and opinions about what happened. Their own grief pushed down to be ignored. Never addressed.
But he—
"Bit of an airhead, but he means well. Smart when it calls for it. Wants to do the right thing no matter if it's his life on the line." Gojo stops a few feet ahead of Shoko, back stiff and, unfortunately, unreadable to her. "I wonder what she'd think of all this."
Shoko draws in a breath, inching closer to lean on the railing overlooking the courtyard. "She'd be disgusted to learn you're a teacher."
"Disgusted?" Gojo repeats with a pout. Shoko just knows that his eyes are narrowed behind his blindfold. "And she wouldn't judge you for cheating your way through med school?"
"She would, but I wouldn't care." Shoko rolls her eyes.
Gojo presses his lips together, leaning on the railing next to her, "I don't think I would either... as long as she was here."
Shoko tenses and her eyes grow distant as she watches leaves twirl and fall in the distance. Her ears begin to ring and she thinks, for one single moment, that Gojo is right. If she just had her right next to her. Breathing, talking— living. Then Shoko might be one of the happiest people alive. She wouldn't care about any of this. She wouldn't worry about anyone leaving or dying. She would just—
What was the point of think about something not possible?
11 years. They needed to let go already.
"I'll make sure Itadori is, in all the official ways, dead." Shoko pushes away from the railing and begins to make her way back to her office (ignoring the soft snort Gojo gave). "Make sure he doesn't die again before you can train him."
"I'll do my absolute best."
11 years. What's a few more minutes with her memory.
This is from a poll I made. This was the most voted on that poll (God's School Aphrodite!Reader and Mitsuri!Reader both tied for second, but I'll do those as well.)
The first part is told in the narrator's pov, then it's in your pov.
This won't follow the original plot, so in this, Geto is on Gojo!reader's side!
Reader is 28, which is Gojo's canon age in the series (This won't contain spoilers from the manga, so don't worry!)
Also, thank you @forbidden-sunlight for helping me think of a plot for this!! Appreciate it! 👍
Hades hasn't felt this stressed out over anything in his life.
Multiple reports stated that these creatures called Curses have been the source of his stress. Not only were they killing thousands of humans, but they were also destroying the bifrost, the gate that only the chief gods can access, himself included.
He's tried to take care of them himself, but he couldn't exactly get rid of them. So he resorted to letting sorcerers kill them since they were one of the only ones who can effectively take them on.
(Y/n) Gojo is one of the strongest sorcerers he has, so she was the one who was constantly working. She's one of the only sorcerers who can take down even the strongest curses with ease.
She refused to do so, unless he lets her three students go with her so they can grow. He was against it at first, seeing how they were teenagers, practically kids! But (Y/n) wouldn't have it any other way. Hades reluctantly let her three students go with her.
Yuuji Itadori, a 15 year old boy who was the host of the king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna, Megumi Fushiguro, another 15 year old boy who seemed to be Sukuna's interest and Nobara Kugisaki, a teenage girl.
During the three months of eliminating curses, her students have continued to grow stronger.
They were her precious students, and she won't allow anyone to separate them from her....
"How long until we find this curse?" Nobara complained, already feeling bored from the long walking. Megumi rolled his eyes and continued looking around. Yuuji didn't complain at all and was helping Megumi.
"Relax, we'll find that curse!" Yuuji said, smiling at Nobara.
"He's so handsome." A female said to herself, catching the three teenager's attention, as well as yours. The female revealed herself to be a nymph, but as soon as she was visible, the curse had appeared and brutally murdered the nymph. Megumi immediately summoned his wolves, the black and white ones ready to fight the curse.
A certain god with long, pink hair was nearby, wanting to take a break from the nymphs. Apollo had heard the commotion and went over to see what was going on. The god saw three teenage kids fighting a curse along with a grown woman with a blindfold over her eyes.
But this curse proved to be too much for the three teenagers and you had to finish it off, which you did with ease using black flash.
"I've never seen a human perform such a technique. It's.... Amazing."
Unbeknownst to the four of them, the same god had watched the whole fight, more focused on you. You're very beautiful, and he knew it.
A man your age with long black hair with parts of it tied up came over, asking you to go relax, even for just a bit. At first, you refused because you didn't want to be separated from your students, but they managed to convince you.
You lifted your blindfold up, revealing one of the most beautiful eyes Apollo has ever seen in his immortal life. Multiple sparkles of lights reflected brightly in your sky blue eyes, layered by white eyelashes.
"Her eyes.... They're like the blue skies themselves...." Apollo thought.
"Sure. I can also take a load off for a bit." You replied, putting the blindfold over your eyes. You urged them to go ahead, while you follow behind. When they were far enough, Apollo decided now was the time to get the woman's attention.
"Hey!"
You turned your head, seeing the pink haired God approach you with a smirk on his face. You now looked slightly disinterested, though it was hard to tell.
"I assume you're Apollo?~" You asked, folding your arms. Apollo felt his confidence grow from your acknowledgement of him.
"I am. But that's not why I'm here." Apollo replied, flipping some of his hair back.
"Make it quick then." You said.
"I've seen your beautiful techniques and-"
"Not interested. I've already did what I needed to do for now, and I'd like to relax." (Y/n) replied, turning back around and started walking away. Apollo was surprised at her answer, just watching her leave.
"What?- You-"
"Besides... You're too weak~" You finally spoke, looking back with a grin and looking forward. Apollo knows he should be angry at the audacity of this woman. But he couldn't. Instead...
He was more attracted to her.
And so began his little quest to win your heart. Ever since then, he's been watching your every step, figuring out your likes and dislikes and more effective ways to get closer to you.
Whenever he meets you in person, he later found out that you were oddly playful and nonchalant, despite your cruelty towards curses. Your interactions slowly grew, even if Apollo had to do it first. At first, you didn't want anything to do with Apollo, but he keeps coming to you, so you just let him do whatever.
But doing that only increased his love for you.
Apollo has always seen you with the man with long black hair, whose name is Geto Suguru. From your interactions with him, he has a strong connection with you, and it enrages him. He hates the way Suguru gets close to you. He didn't like the attention you give Geto. You always greeted with a playful smile, and he wishes he was the one you smile at.
He has to get rid of him, so you can only give him the attention you give Geto. Geto Suguru.... Has to go.
So that you'll have no choice but to love him and him only~
You fell onto the classroom floor seconds after Haibara, both of you steaming like fresh dumplings as you catch your breath. Shoko had let you borrow her workout clothes, and now you would have to wash them because dirt and sweat had gotten into the fibers. Yaga had you all do conditioning throughout practice, making sure you would have enough stamina to keep up with high-grade curses. It wasn’t fun.
“You both are so dramatic,” Nanami was also panting, he was just better at hiding it. “Whatever!” Haibara exclaims, which leaves him coughing. “I wish to shower and go to sleep,” You mumble, resting your head into your forearms. “Me too,” Haibara says after finishing breathlessly hacking. “We all stink,” Nanami sighs, moving to sit on a desk as you both remain crumpled up on the floor, “I’ll meet you both in the laundry room after we all shower.”
Nanami and Haibara are already using the washing machine just as you arrive. It was domestic, watching the two wait for you as the sun streamed through the window behind the washer. You could see them in full, your eyes uncovered and ever staring. It was the first time you hadn’t worn your blindfold since the first day of school.
“Hello,” you make yourself known, causing the two to spin around. “Hey!” Haibara says, raking a hand through his wet hair. Nanami remained silent, his blond hair tied back into a half-up, half-down style. Your heart beats against your ribcage at the sight. His green speckled brown eyes find yours, the almond shape creasing as he does. Copying him, you raise your eyebrows.
In recent weeks, Haibara has been caught in the middle of your and Nanami’s– or what he liked to call it– weird, silent, ‘bae’ stares. Yet again, the brown haired boy was stuck as you both smiled at each other. Haibara has learned to ignore it while Satoru started picking up on it:
“How come you stare at that blonde emo boy like he hung the moon? He’s not even that cute!” Satoru exclaims, his eyes bugged wide open as he looks at you in disbelief. “I do not!” You state, voice shakier than usual. “I simply admire how hard he works.”
“Bullshit, little sister!” He snickers. “You like him!”
Your heart sinks at the realization.
Yeah, you do like Nanami Kento. You like his gentle demeanor, his seriousness, his empathy. You even like his blond hair and the faint smudge of black eyeliner on his waterline.
But you couldn't have him.
You couldn't have anyone even if you tried.
In a few years, you’ll be (...) Zenin, Naoya’s wife, mother to the next generation of Zenin children. Not a sorcerer, or a woman, or even a human, but the breeding bitch Kamo Kenji said you were.
You blink slowly, your lashes fluttering shut as you take a short breath. “I am not interested in romance,” you lied, one of the many you’ve said to Satoru, “I think of him and Haibara in a platonic regard.”
You set your laundry basket down, clothes threatening to fall out with any sudden movement. “I have many unwashed clothes,” you say, your voice flat compared to the joyful expression on your face. “I still have not figured out how to use the machine.” Haibara laughs wholeheartedly at your words. “Really? You’ve never used a washing machine before?”
“Haibara,” Nanami holds back a smile, “She came from one of the most prestigious families in all of Japan.” He says it like it was obvious. “That doesn’t make sense!” Haibara exclaims, his smile never fading.
You and Shoko agreed to wash your undergarments together, since you were the only girls, so only your uniform and whatever else you could fit remained in the basket. You kneel beside it, pulling out a wrinkled shirt. “Here,” Nanami’s voice is closer than expected. You look up to find him crouched beside you, his hands already sorting through your clothes with the same methodical precision he applies to everything. “Darks and lights need to be separated.”
“Oh.” You watch his fingers work, callused but careful. “I did not know that.”
“It’s fine,” he says, and there’s no judgment in his tone. There never is. “Everyone learns at different paces.”
Haibara joins in, creating three piles on the floor between you. The afternoon light catches in Nanami’s hair, turning certain strands almost gold. You wonder if Naoya’s hair would look the same in this light, then immediately feel guilty for the comparison. Nothing about Naoya is like this. Like Kento
.
“You’re staring again,” Nanami murmurs, but his lips quirk upward. Not quite a smile, but close.
“I am observing,” you correct, even as heat creeps up your neck. “There is a difference.”
“Sure there is.” Haibara snorts, standing to add his own clothes to one of the machines. The mechanical whir fills the comfortable silence.
Nanami demonstrates how to measure detergent, his shoulder brushing yours as he leans over the machine. You commit every word to memory. Not because you’ll necessarily need to know this in a few years (the Zenin estate surely has staff for such things), but because it’s him teaching you. You want to remember the patience in his voice, the way he doesn’t make you feel foolish for not knowing. “Got it?” he asks.
You nod, but your hands tremble slightly as you pour. His hand steadies yours, warm and solid, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” Haibara says suddenly, his tone unusually serious. Both you and Nanami turn to him. “Are you okay? Like, actually okay? You’ve seemed… I don’t know. Sad, like the whole time I’ve known you.”
The question catches you off guard. You’ve been so careful, keeping your smile bright and your voice steady. But Haibara has always been perceptive beneath his cheerful exterior.
“I am well,” you say automatically.
“That’s not what Yuu asked,” Nanami adds quietly. His eyes, those green-speckled brown eyes, search yours with an intensity that makes you want to confess everything. About the engagement. About the counting down of days until your freedom ends. About how much these small moments- doing laundry, training together, simply existing in the same space, mean to you.
But you can’t.
“I am simply,” you hesitate, “aware that our time at Jujutsu Tech will not last forever,” and settle on a half-truth. “I want to appreciate it while I can.”
Something flickers across Nanami’s face. Understanding, maybe, or concern. “That’s true for all of us,” he says slowly. “But we’ll still see each other after graduation. As colleagues, if nothing else.”
No, we won’t, you think, but smile instead. “Of course.”
The washing machine chimes, breaking the moment. Haibara moves to switch his load to the dryer, humming some pop song you don’t recognize. Nanami stays beside you, silent but present, and you wonder if he can sense the lie. He usually can.
“Nanami,” you say before you can stop yourself. He hums in acknowledgment. “Thank you. For teaching me.”
“It’s just laundry,” he replies, but his expression softens in a way that makes your chest ache.
“Still,” you meet his gaze, letting yourself have this one honest moment, “I appreciate your patience with me. More than you know.”
For several heartbeats, he simply looks at you. Then, so quietly you almost miss it.
“You don’t need to thank me for treating you like a person.”
The words hit deeper than he probably intended.
Your throat tightens.
“Okay!” Haibara announces loudly, clearly trying to dispel whatever heavy atmosphere he’s sensing. “Who wants to hit the convenience store? I’m craving meat buns!”
“You just ate lunch,” Nanami points out, but he’s already standing, offering you his hand.
You take it, letting him pull you up, and for just a second you allow yourself to imagine a different future. One where you could hold this hand whenever you wanted. Doing laundry together could be a weekly routine rather than a stolen moment. Where you were just you. Not a Gojo, not a promised Zenin, just a girl who likes a boy who treats her with gentleness.
But you release his hand, pick up your laundry basket, and follow your friends toward the door. You’ll take what you can get. These fleeting moments of normalcy, of warmth, of feeling seen.
Even if they’ll only make leaving hurt more when the time comes.
—
The three of you stumble back into the dorms with plastic bags crinkling, the autumn air still clinging to your clothes. Haibara is in the middle of recreating Yaga’s disappointed face from earlier, eyebrows furrowed, mouth turned down in exaggerated disapproval.
“‘You call that conditioning?’” he mimics, his voice dropping several octaves. “‘In my day, we ran until we collapsed!’”
“He did make us run until we collapsed,” Nanami points out, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips as he unlocks the common room door.
“Exactly!” Haibara crows triumphantly, dropping his bags on the table. “Which means we already did it his way. These meat buns are our reward.”
You’re laughing, actually laughing, the sound bubbling up from your chest in a way that feels foreign but good. “That logic is flawed.”
“Your face is flawed,” Haibara shoots back without any heat, tossing you a packaged sweet bread. You catch it clumsily, still not used to moving without the calculation your Six Eyes usually demand.
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Nanami sighs, but he’s fighting back a grin as he distributes the meat buns.
“Your face doesn’t make sense!”
“Haibara, please use a different comeback,” you say, opening your sweet bread. “You have said ‘your face’ three times now.”
“Your face has said ‘your face’ three times now!”
The absurdity of it breaks something in you, maybe it’s the exhaustion from training, or the way Nanami is shaking his head with that fond exasperation, or how Haibara looks so proud of his terrible joke, but you dissolve into giggles. Real ones, the kind that shake your shoulders and make your eyes water.
“Oh no, we broke her,” Haibara stage-whispers to Nanami.
“You broke her with your terrible insults,” Nanami corrects, but his eyes are soft as he watches you try to compose yourself.
“I am-” you gasp between giggles, “-I am not broken. That was simply very stupid.”
“Simply very stupid!” Haibara crows, pointing at Nanami. “See? She gets it!”
This sets you off again, and then Haibara is laughing too, his joy infectious. Even Nanami can’t hold back anymore, a genuine laugh escaping him as he bites into his meat bun to hide his smile.
It’s at this moment, sitting on the common room floor because none of you bothered with chairs, surrounded by convenience store food and terrible jokes, that you forget. You forget about bloodlines and arranged marriages and the weight of your name. You’re not a Gojo or a future Zenin. You’re just you.
“Your laugh is nice,” Nanami says suddenly, quietly. The comment nearly stops your giggles entirely. “You should do it more often.”
Heat blooms across your cheeks. “I am not funny like Haibara.”
“You don’t have to be funny to laugh,” he replies, holding your gaze. “You just have to let yourself.”
“Wow, Nanami getting philosophical,” Haibara teases, but something is knowing in his eyes. “What’s next, poetry?”
“I’ll leave that to you,” Nanami deadpans. “Since you’re so good with words. ‘Your face’ being your pinnacle achievement.”
“Hey!”
You dissolve into giggles again, pressing your hand over your mouth. But this time you force yourself to lower it, to let them hear you. Let them see you. Unfiltered and imperfect and happy.
Haibara grins at you like you’ve accomplished something monumental. Nanami’s expression is softer, proud in a way that makes your heart squeeze.
“There she is,” Haibara says warmly. “Knew she was in there somewhere.”
Later, you’re walking back to your room when you pass Satoru in the hallway. He’s holding a soda, probably stolen from someone’s mini-fridge, and he stops dead when he sees you.
“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.
He stares at you, those six eyes of his seeing everything. Then his expression melts into something unbearably fond. “Nothing. You just… You look happy.”
“I am,” you say, and realize it’s true. “Haibara and Nanami are very good friends.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side hug. “But seriously. This is good. You being… loose. Like a normal teenager.”
Normal. The word sits heavy in your chest. You’re not normal. You’ll never be normal. But for tonight, for these few stolen hours, you've got to pretend.
“Do not get used to it,” you mutter, but there’s no bite to it.
Satoru’s arm tightens around you briefly before he lets go. “Too late. I’m already used to it.” His voice drops, losing its playful edge. “You deserve this, you know. To just… be a kid. Have friends. Laugh at stupid jokes.”
You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod.
“Plus,” he continues, voice brightening again, “if you’re gonna have a crush, at least it’s on someone decent. Nanami’s got that whole responsible thing going on. Very parent-approved.”
“I do not-” you start, but Satoru is already walking away, waving over his shoulder.
“Save it! I saw you two doing that weird eye thing again in the dining hall!”
You stand alone in the hallway, face burning, but there’s a smile on your lips you can’t quite suppress.
Maybe, just for a little while longer, you can let yourself have this. Have them. This unconditional, uncomplicated care asks nothing of you except to be present. To laugh at bad jokes and eat convenience store food and exist without the weight of expectations.
You’ll pay for it later, you’re certain. Every moment of joy now is another moment you’ll grieve when you’re locked away in the Zenin estate. But standing here, still able to feel the warmth of Nanami’s quiet pride and Haibara’s infectious happiness, you think maybe it’s worth it.
Maybe some things are worth the grief that comes after.
Like I said earlier, i know of ways to get u out of ur stupid marriage
You:
Be careful, the clans will not allow that to happen.
You:
Despite how much I wish they would.
You:
Please be careful Miho, the clans will not hesitate to rid of any obstacles. I would rather have you here with me than not.
Miho ☆:
I know.
Miho ☆:
Good night lovie, i need to go to bed
Miho ☆:
Love you, remember that ur allowed to be happy
You:
Goodnight Miho
You:
I love you as well.
————————————————————————
Your thumbs hover over your phone’s keyboard, your covered eyes racking over the past messages. Nanami laughs at something Haibara said as you try not to choke back sobs. Behind you, you can hear Shoko yelling at your brother and Geto to quit their trivial fighting.
It feels warm. Friendly. Real. Alive.
You’ve been so afraid of the grief that comes after that you've been half-present for the joy that comes before. Rationing your happiness like it’s something you’ll run out of, when the truth is simpler and more terrible: you’re going to lose this no matter what.
Whether you let yourself fully feel it or not.
The only choice you have is whether these memories will be full-color and vivid, or faded and distant because you were too scared to live them properly.
You think about Nanami’s hand steadying yours over the washing machine. Haibara’s terrible jokes. The three of you on the common room floor, laughing until your ribs hurt.
You think about Satoru seeing you happy and looking at you like you’d given him a gift.
You have three and a half years. Maybe less. Maybe a little more if you’re lucky.
You could spend it preparing for the end. Building walls. Keeping distance.
Or you could spend it living.
The hallway has gone quieter now, most people settling in for the night. Tomorrow there will be training. Missions. Homework. More moments with Nanami and Haibara, with Satoru and Suguru and Shoko.
More chances to be happy.
And you’re going to take them. All of them. Every single one you can grab with both hands, because Miho is right. Wasting this time afraid of losing it would be worse than losing it at all.
You’ll grieve later. When the time comes, you’ll grieve enough for a lifetime.
But right now? Right now you’re going to let yourself live.
Even if it kills you.
—-
You pull your blanket up to your chin, staring at the ceiling of your dorm room. It’s plain, impersonal still (you haven’t decorated because what’s the point when you’ll have to leave it all behind?).
But maybe that’s exactly why you should.
You can take this gift, this borrowed time, and you can use it. You can smile and laugh and love and let yourself be loved in return, even if it’s temporary. Especially because it’s temporary.
Tomorrow you’ll find Nanami and Haibara. You’ll laugh at stupid jokes and eat convenience store food and let yourself feel every moment of it. You’ll stop holding back. Stop protecting yourself from the inevitable hurt.
Summary: The greatest punishment in this life wasn't your brother Gojo Satoru embarrassing you into leaving Sorcery.
It was what happened when he was gone.
Warnings: Blood, Gore, Sexual Violence, Inferred Violence, Inferred Assault
You remember the day Gojo told you that you would never make it as a sorcerer.
The day you graduated from Jujutsu High School your arrogant older brother wrapped a hand over your shoulder and told you that you had less talent than the first years, and he wouldn’t allow you to be anything more than a third-grade sorcerer.
Of course, he did it at the podium, in front of everyone there.
You had ripped off the slim golden necklace he and Geto had bought you, but you could never bear to trash it entirely.
That was also the day you refused to speak to him again. But you soon found he was good as his word, and any attempt to do any sorcery was blocked at every angle. After all, who would openly disagree with the master of the Six Eyes and Infinity?
You were more or less exiled from the entire society of arrogant jujitsu sorcerers, forced to go to the nearby college and turn into a glorified secretary for the high school. He tried to rebuild your relationship, but it was never the same.
It took you years to understand why he would hurt his only sibling that deeply. It wasn’t until he was dead that you understood how much he was willing to sacrifice for your well-being.
You were the number one target of all Satoru Gojo’s enemies, and revenge came swiftly.
The clinking of the chains could almost sound like that piece of jewelry, lost in the rubble of your apartment if you imagined hard enough.
And all you had was time to try and imagine that you were anywhere but here, locked to the throne at the feet of the King of Curses.
You could hardly bear to watch as people were brought in, some more chained than you, dangerous perhaps. You wondered if their collars had been crafted to deaden cursed energy as yours had. Not that Sukuna thought you were any threat, but he disliked ‘swatting at flies’.
When you had first been captured, after everything had gone to hell, you had hoped that there was someone, anyone, who had the power and strength to end Sukuna, but nothing came close to his power.
Even Gojo Satoru had fallen, taking hope with him.
Now Men, Women, and children, all met the same fate if they did not kneel and give reverence to the great Ryomen Sukuna.
And even that was not always enough.
Blood spattered the marble floors of the shrine, and you swear that over time it’s taken on a pink hue. The room fills with lesser curses who clean the blood with their grotesque mouths, and Urame carts away choice bits for Sukuna's later pleasure.
You screwed your mouth shut as people cried to you, mistaking your position as something other than a slave for Sukuna to torture.
As the last of the Gojo line, you weren't above holding you responsible for a century-long grudge. Any pleading from your lips only made his rampage worse.
Any attempt to flee into your head was met with a violent tug on your throat.
There was no turning away, not when your master held the deceptively delicate chain around your neck, yanking whenever he thought you weren’t paying enough attention.
He loved to see you cry in pain, and you hadn’t the ability to stop, especially for those young ones who were cut down.
And it was almost certain that after witnessing another moment of terrible brutality you’d somehow forget your head, turning upon him and glaring like a feral animal, yanking the chain away so you could hurt him, just once.
But you would only be met with the face of the wolf.
His teeth clenched in a wide smile, he’d return a smirk so vile, that he specifically reserved for the moments you spit venom. He loved to see you struggle, but trying to bite back always ended poorly.
Ryomen Sukuna was not a kind master.
And though he certainly thought of you like a pet, he wasn’t below forcing your head under his foot, smushing your entire face in the remains of corpses. If you dared throw up, you still stayed and were unable to leave until you wiped it up with your ragged robes that had gone thin from wear.
But that was better than his other punishment, on days where you felt a terrifying hardness as Sukuna held your face between his legs, using a single finger to paint fresh blood, using you as a macabre canvas as he painted.
Those days he would have Urame fetch a mirror, and both would cackle as they examined his work. Often, it was lewd words and signs, but other times it was as if he was painting his marks on you.
Bastard.
After a long, cruel day, you dared to critique his work, sneering at his lack of finesse.
With a snap of his fingers, he had Urame strap you down, leering over you as he assembled his petty revenge.
A curse user was summoned, bringing along the tools of his trade; a short bamboo pole with a needle attached and a jar of thick onyx ink.
If that hadn’t been enough, Sukuna cut his wrist, pouring black blood to mix into the lot.
He instructed the curse user to tattoo you exactly like him, with no imperfections else his head be separated from his body.
You endured unbearable pain for nearly a week, stripped down under the gaze of Sukuna, a reminder to watch your tongue. And after, when the tattoos were done, he commemorated it with a new kimono and a portrait of you at his feet. A wretched ugly thing, as you now were.
He loved it, and let the painter live.
The recovery took twice as long, as your master hardly let you rest, or even leave his side. And as the days passed, you felt less and less like a human.
Forced to accompany him almost daily, you had an unfortunate insight into the casual cruelty of the Cursed King who knew nothing of kindness.
You eat less, hardly sleep and the whole blood-shed thing was sort of muffled, probably thanks to the sheer amount witnessed. You figure terror is the only thing keeping you alive.
Day in and out you followed the creature, just waiting for the day he tires of you.
And that day doesn’t come.
It’s still a surprise that you’re alive, you muse too often, laying on a cushion at the entrance to his rooms. Though he did take off your left arm the day he took you, he claimed it was an accident, and fixed it.
You’d rather that happen again than to be forced to enter his rooms.
At least your position at his shrine was more or less a pet, or when he was gone, Urame’s.
And despite your treatment, the concubines were in a far worse condition. The way Sukuna treated other women was abhorrent. Some days, bored, would reap the land looking for fresh, beautiful blood, and when he found some, he’d bring them back. Some girls even offered up to him, in hopes he’d show mercy.
Wide-eyed women, much like yourself, you realized as you watched them enter one day. But you felt these were much prettier, much more docile than you. Some even fawned over him, though their manners probably rang as fake as your docility. Were they trying to secure a safe place by him, or just trying not to be killed was hard to say. You didn’t blame either. Humanity was no longer civil.
It didn’t matter. They all get dragged into that black hole of his room, sometimes four at a time, and their screaming often lasts for hours.
Women who entered his rooms never exited alive, thankfully Urame thought your time could be much better spent working than sitting at the door, listening in.
Yeah, it was much preferable to be a tortured slave to Sukuna than to be seen as a woman.
“You’ve been quiet this last week, pet.” Sharp nails dig into your head, turning you to look at the man sitting on the throne above. “Perhaps you no longer find my pastimes so alarming.”
Meaning, his pastime of killing and eating humans.
Something shared by the court of curses below him, warily watching for what next he commands and desires.
Unfortunately, that was you. You despised the looks raked over your chained form, the greedy mouths that drooled, awaiting the day the master turned tired of the remaining Gojo, and hoped to have their turn for revenge.
If they couldn’t have Satoru Gojo, you’d do.
“Apologies… master.” You said, tension forming at the back of your neck as he tugged harshly on your head. Even so, your words remained smooth. “I find it hard to do anything but serve with your foot on my back.”
His dark chuckle was an answer in itself.
“Such a mouth, even when disguising your words so pretty.” Sukuna let go of your hair, amused enough today to let your words pass. You drop your head, but only enough to quell the pain. “It was such a shame for your kin to have died so easily, but it seems my desire for entertainment continues to be fulfilled by you.”
You hated him so much.
You clench your mouth, but the insult escapes before you can stop it.
“Bastard.”
You go stiff, but Sukuna merely pauses.
“Oh?” A single finger of his lifts your chin up again, before moving to your lips. And without warning, he pushes it inside your mouth.
“I thought I may torture you for a while, then be rid of you, but…”
You will yourself not to bite down on his finger, as he probably wanted an excuse to bite you back. But you don’t, and after a moment he pops it out with a small sound before another hand grabs your shoulder.
“Leave.”
For a moment you think he’s speaking to you, but the tension in your throat holds, and you see him looking at everyone else.
“My lord?” You question but his eyes flash down in warning.
All the curses and curse-users who attend minor tasks in the shrine are gone in moments. Urame is the last, shitting the door and ensuring the desired privacy, which means, something horrible is about to happen.
The moment the ornate handle clicks, Sukuna picks you up with a third hand. You can’t help but exhale as he sets you down on his knee. The finger that had been in your mouth returns, and you gag as this time it delves in, choking you.
“Not a very good reflex, but it can be worked on,” Sukuna says with an almost bored drawl, tugging his finger back out, and you wonder if he just sent everyone out because he wanted to do just that.
You cough, hands rising to hold your face, and don’t ask.
Sukuna laughs, clearly happy with annoying you, like a child. You so badly want to lash out but the fear of retaliation is far more effective than any shackle.
He has killed villages for less.
“See, this is why I didn’t kill you when I got rid of the rest of the scum!” He jokes, tilting his head to gaze with all four of his penetrating red eyes. “Such pleasing reactions!”
Friends, you think darkly. Those scum were your friends who were more like family. Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Nobara, Yuuta, Yuuji and so many others.
Tears fill your eyes as a soft voice seems to be at the back of your mind.
Megumi.
Though Sukuna was fully transformed, pain filled you thinking that Megumi might be in that monstrous body, trapped and unable to escape.
His knee shifts up, causing a terrible feeling of butterflies and cockroaches to churn in your stomach from the feel. The move was far too personal, and you tried to shift so he wasn’t pressed so intimately against your rear.
Even trying to fall off would be preferable. But your throat is raised, thanks to the gold chain in Sukuna’s hand that pulls up as he twists.
The benefit of having four arms is he can manhandle you as he pleases.
His thick hand raised your chin and refused to let you turn an inch as you gazed hatefully into his eyes
“What a beautiful sight. You know, from the first moment I saw you, I knew you were special.” Another hand moves to pull back some stray hair behind your ear.
“I hate you.”
Your hands shake, clenched in fists.
“I know.” He says with a smirk. “You know why I keep you around, pet?”
You have nothing to say and don’t even care to know. But that won’t stop him.
He strokes your face, his thumb holding you in a position others might think lovers would use.
“The first time I gazed upon you, I felt a most unique heat in my chest that has persisted till this day. Love, perhaps.” He mocks.
“Disgusting.” You spit out, but he doesn’t pause.
“From the moment we crossed paths your fate was set, but only recently have I understood the extent of what you mean to me.” Sukuna seems to be smug, revealing this, and you think he’s probably just messing with your head again.
The grip on your chin is starting to hurt.
Your chin shakes, and you grab the giant hand holding your face, digging in your fingers. You are certain he is going to kill you now. But you won’t cry or beg for mercy.
No, as a Gojo you would face down death and spit in his face.
So you do, hitting Sukuna right under his lower left eye.
“Go to hell, monster.” You growled, despite feeling the creak of bones in your face.
And for a moment the world is deathly quiet.
Until Sukuna throws back his head, startling you with a loud howl as he releases your face to laugh. In pain and confusion, you are tongue-tied as he tilts his head, the look on his face almost fond.
“I could kill you, but I have a better plan. I think you would make a very interesting wife.”
You would have fallen off his leg had he not quickly placed a palm on the small of your back.
“I despise you.” You reply, seeing as there isn’t anything else to say. But Sukuna doesn’t get mad at you for speaking out. Instead, he grins, which is much worse. “I’ll never be yours.”
But his mouth grows wide, and he tugs you forward, pushing you against his chest. Your lack of elegant words doesn’t bother Sukuna.
“Not as a human. I recently acquired a certain cursed spirit on my travels, and by imbuing you with her powers, your transformation should be complete. Rika would suit you well. You’re already halfway there, thanks to those marks suing my blood.”
You had been eating less, not hardly sleeping and the whole blood-shed thing was sort of muffled…
You gape, twisting to try and escape or even to move enough to allow your brain to function.
What?
He gives you a long look that you don’t know how to interpret. “You've lost enough of that wretched humanity that your body won’t break when you bear my children.”
You straighten, horrified, reeling back, but stopped.
Oh gods, there wasn’t anything more ridiculous than Sukuna talking about reproducing with you?
“No-“ He waves off your rejection, like a wisp of wind. You don’t remember starting to shake so hard, but it seems like you can see yourself from above, trembling a leaf in a storm.
“Of course, pet. You didn’t think I’d keep a stupid thing like you around to look nice? I even practiced on those pathetic humans.”
You dig your fingers into his chest, ripping it open with fury alone.
“I’ll kill you.” You say, “I’ll kill myself-“
Sukuna chuckles as blood pours from his chest, but the wound heals faster than you can dig. Sukuna's hand shoves your head into his blood, and iron fills your mouth.
“Heh, brat. Look at you, a Gojo doomed to be the queen of curses. A fitting end to that cursed line.”
“Someday, the chance will come, and one day, I’ll kill you.” You swear, teeth dripping in red.
“Women like you never leave their brats, so I’ll breed you till you have no escape,” Sukuna says, bending down and giving a soft kiss to your painted lips.
As he pulls away, his tongue licks away the blood. “Of course, if you try, I’ll kill them and breed you again. Isn’t that what husbands do?”
can i request a Imagine how was the villain league invasion with gojo! reader in this episode
My Hero Academia with a Gojo! Reader during the LOV’s USJ invasion
A/N: thank you for this request!! I’ve had many thoughts about it but had no idea how to word them lmaoo, hope this does the scene justice. Also sooo sorry I took so long for a part two
GN! Reader
Genre: Fluff, angst if you squint, hurt/comfort (i guess??)
based off of this
You all entered the bus after Aiwaza sensei said that you’ll have training somewhere, you sat beside Midoriya.
When they were talking about quirks and Asui mentioned that Midoriya’s quirk was similar to All Might’s, you used your six eyes to analyse Izuku. ‘Hmm, she’s not wrong… ‘ you thought
Kirishima was talking about how flashy quirk havers were lucky because they were what makes heroes more famous.
“If you want someone strong and flashy, then it’s definitely Todoroki, Bakugo and Gojo!” Kirishima said, the half and half haired one was asleep while the blonde grumbled at the comment. “Bakugo is explosive. I feel like he won’t be popular” Asui replied, “say that again, you jerk! I’ll have fans!” Bakugo answered angrily. They continued to taunt the blonde while you watched, amused at the scene.
“I feel like Gojo-san will be one of the popular pro heroes! Their quirk is strong and flashy and they’re also attractive!” Kaminari pointed out, “ehehe, you think so?” you replied. “Yeah! Aside from your dad being one of the most famous pro heroes of all time, you’re definitely strong enough to reach top charts!” Ashido added. “You all flatter me,” you replied, smiling at them.
When you reached the venue, you were welcomed by pro hero Thirteen who also introduced you all to the USJ training ground and also explained her quirk to you all.
As introductions went on, you began to notice something off. Immediately exchanging your black out glasses for blindfolds.
You were now on high alert, you started scanning the area with six eyes, looking for anything that seemed out of the ordinary, that's when you noticed energy building up in the centre of the arena.
“Aizawa sensei…” you said, voice void of the usual cheerfulness, alerting the teacher and immediately sensing something wrong. When you all looked towards the centre, a portal appeared and out came villains, shocking your classmates and the pro heroes.
Aizawa got into a fighting stance, mirroring him as you got ready to engage. You know full well that if these villains were able to bypass the U.A's strict security system, they were somewhat of a real deal.
“Y/N, you have experience?” Aizawa asked, you gave him a nod. “Yeah, dad likes immersive and visual teaching so he’d bring me to missions. I can handle, don’t worry, sensei.” you answered, Getting ready to attack and act as support for your teacher.
You both ran down the stairs and into the frey, you had your infinity on, therefore making any counter attack done by the villains useless.
You looked up at your classmates and saw them getting sucked into the portal. ‘Shit!’ you thought, unable to leave the fray right now due to being ambushed left and right.
You fought back to back with Aizawa, dealing with the villains that his scarf couldn’t deal with. You were only doing hand to hand combat, as sending in one of your coloured moves might be fatal to some of the weaker ones. You saw Aizawa rush towards the one with hands around, shocking yourself when his elbow suddenly got injured. You rushed to his aid, removing him from the villain’s grasp. However, what you didn’t expect was a creature to sweep in and bash your teacher’s head on the ground.
“Aizawa sensei!” you shout in concern, immediately trying to remove the creature from him, however, your efforts lead nowhere as the creature was stronger than you physically as it continued to bash the erasure heroes head on the concrete and sent you flying towards a farther place. You weren’t able to activate your infinity in time, so your head got hit and you felt blood oozing out.
Lucky for you, you can heal yourself, since that was one of the first skills your father taught you, so you healed yourself and went back into the fight, more determined than ever.
You notice the hand villain rush towards Midoriya, Tyusu and Mineta, and as far as you know, a single touch from that villain means destruction.
You ran towards them, luckily, Aizawa cancelled the villain’s quirks, saving Tsuyu. You gave the villain a black flash punch and sent him flying. You looked towards your teacher, seeing the creature bash his head once again. Midoriya tried punching it, but nothing happened.
“Fuck this, Reversal: Red!” you exclaimed, aiming at the creature’s head, sending it slamming into a wall. Shocking your classmates.
You ran towards your teacher to assess the damage done. He was in bad shape, You saw the creature was back and Midoriya was fighting it. Then, the gym’s doors burst open, revealing the No.1 Hero, an angry look on his face.
Everyone rejoiced as All Might made quick work of the smaller scale villains. The creature then faced All Might, Midoriya gave All Might information on the creature, to which the hero responded with a reassuring smile and phrase. “Midoriya, Tsuyu, Mineta. Hold onto me.” You said, grabbing onto Aizawa and teleporting you all out of the way.
The fight continued, with your group watching from the sidelines. As much as you’d like to help out, you don’t want to get in All Might's way. You were shocked when Midoriya ran into the fight, only to be stopped by Bakugo who appeared out of nowhere along with Kirishima and Todoroki.
You plastered a smirk, handing Aizawa to Tsuyu and rushing into the fight yourself. The hand villain went through a whole speech about kids these days, then ordered for the creature called a “Nomu” to finish off Bakugou. All Might looked at you for a brief second and you got the message. “Not on my watch!” you shout, teleporting to Bakugou and away with him, shocking the boy.
The villain made another speech to which All Might asked you all to escape.
A battle between All Might and the Nomu ensued as you students watched on.
He sent the Nomu out through the roof with one strong punch, ending the fight.
The other two villains then proceeded to attack All Might, when you and Midoriya ran towards them, you created a barrier and extended your infinity towards your classmate and All Might, giving them some sort of protection.
Then, a bullet got shot towards the villain, making him fall.
The fog villain and the hand villain retreated, but not without the promise of coming back for revenge.
The other pro hero teachers came as back up, to which you were thankful for.
When you reached outside, you found police officers detaining the small fry villains,
The head police informed you all of Aizawa and Thirteen’s conditions, which were luckily stable. They also informed you of Midoriya’s condition.
“You were awesome there, Gojo!” Uraraka complimented, your other classmates surrounding you. “Yeah! That attack you did that sent the Nomu away was so strong!” Mineta exclaimed. As praises filled your ears, your mind was in a different place. “Thanks! I learnt from the best!” You replied.
Although deep inside you knew you weren’t strong enough, you had lots of opportunities to join the fight, to help All Might and not make him shoulder all the burden, but you stayed still and just watched as he was getting beaten up.
You were scared to act, scared to get in the way, and scared that although Gojo Satoru, one of the world’s strongest heroes is your dad, you aren’t strong enough to handle your own battles.
No amount of prior training or watching your dad handle missions would have gotten you ready for what just happened, and in all honesty, in your opinion, Midoriya was more of a hero than you were.
When you got home, your dad heard about the news, and you told him everything, including your doubts.
“Hey kikufuku… the first time isn’t always easy. You’re at a hero school TO learn about being a hero. Not just because you have a powerful quirk means that you’re already a powerful hero. You have much to learn, and that’s where experience comes in. I wasn’t always this strong, my strength comes from experience and training.” Satoru comforts you.
“Stop being hard on yourself, you contributed to the fight and saved your teachers and classmates, and that’s what matters. You have plenty of other opportunities, so grab them and learn from them, okay?” he added, bringing you into a hug.
At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what background you’re from, because from then on, all of you are standing on the same stage, and are all training to become the next generation of heroes.
A/N- I hope you guys like it hehe (I wrote this whilst studying for my PTCB:)
Warning- Swearing, ANGST, fludd, violence and blood, talks of DEATH, Sukuna, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!
Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader
Episode and or chapters- Chapter 253-254
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
————
*CHOSO’S P.O.V*
There you were, frozen in time, beautiful and radiant as if you were the sun itself. Flashing a flattering smile that could make anyone fall in love with you, in designer clothes he had no idea how much they’re worth or who they’re made by, but with the eyes of a stranger.
You've mentioned multiple times how your eyes changed the day your technique was fully awakened within you and completely erased the person you once were. It happened years before he and you met so seeing a reflection of this old person is completely strange to him. Yet fascinating.
“Hey, I didn’t know she had a billboard out,” Yuji points out as he falls by Choso’s side and looks at a large billboard of you.
“It’s a birthday gift from Hakari and Kirara. They had 28 put up in some cities I don’t remember,” Choso lets him know, making Yuji mumble something he doesn’t catch because of the loud thoughts racing in his mind.
Thoughts he can’t keep inside. “Would it be selfish to say I want to forbid her from danger? Even if she is strong?”
“Hm?” Yuji hums and blinks to look away from the billboard and instead look at his older brother.
Choso slowly reaches for the image of you as he imagines it's actually you before him. “I lost two brothers already. I don’t want to lose her too.”
There’s many things Yuji can say to comfort his brother, all of which sound the same, but could all be lies. You aren’t fighting some common sorcerer, you’re fighting the King of Curses so he can’t guarantee you’re survival, but how can he just watch his only brother suffer when said brother does everything to make him feel reassured when he needs it.
“She’s strong, she’ll survive. And Sukuna has been hurt she won’t die.”
Choso presses his fingers against the cold billboard and sighs. “I look at her and all I see is my future. Since the moment I laid my eyes on her in that capsule. It was an innocent admiration then, but it flourished and now the mere thought of living my life without her horrifies me,” Choso pours his heart and relieves his mind of the tension the rushing thoughts brought.
“Yet,” he talks quieter and with an obvious lump of different emotions stuck in his throat. “I still let her fight. I still watch her and say goodbye. So would it be selfish if I kept her away from danger so I don’t lose my future and everything that’s beautiful?”
Yuji drifts his gaze back to your billboard and doesn’t hide the truth. “I’ve never loved anyone the way you love her, but yes it would be selfish. Sharing your desires and fears isn’t what’s selfish, but doing that against her will would be.”
For the first time since they came across the billboard, Choso drops his gaze and mulls over the wise thing his little brother just told him.
“You’re wise,” Choso compliments Yuji with a faint but proud smile.
Yuji, albeit, wonders if he should be offended that his brother didn’t think he was wise before or touched by such a heartwarming compliment.
“But,” Choso interjects and brings his gaze back to the image of you. “I hope you’re right.”
Yuji watches his brother and thinks back to the moment he was feeling your belly and keeping you within arm's reach. He thinks that it was such a sweet moment, and one he wants Choso to not repeat in the sense that he doesn’t want his brother to hold onto you out of fear he’ll lose you, he wants his older brother to just make more precious memories of his precious life with you.
He deserves it, Yuji thinks. Choso deserves a precious human life.
“I trust her, I know she'll fight hard to stay alive,” Yuji adds one last assuring thing before he walks to his brother to pat his shoulder before leaving the billboard behind.
Choso lingers behind though, and brings his hand down to take his phone out and watch the broadcast, hoping he’ll catch a glimpse of you. But all he’s welcomed with is more worry as all he sees is your domain still hovering above ground.
——
*YOU*
Sharp and violent winds thrash violently, constricting the ability to breathe, robbing the sense of sound with roaring gusts that pull blood out of his ears, and bringing a terrorizing darkness that could make anyone believe they're nowhere, that they are nothing until suddenly bright and hot flames erupt from the ground and tangle with the gusts of wind spinning around you and the beast enclosed with you.
Water accompanies you too, the humidity sticks to your skin and puddles around your feet. As the fire births light to the domain, you can see wet gleaming walls towering over the tornado like never-ending walls.
To any normal sorcerer or non-sorcerer, the plummet in the air pressure alone would’ve killed them, but Sukuna is no normal being, it’s why he’s the King of Curses.
“I knew you wouldn’t die,” you mumble to yourself and notice two of his hands stuck in the Hollow Wicker Basket hand sign, protecting him from your domain.
Or so he thinks it’s what will protect him. Your winds are strong, they can—could break through…Satoru’s infinity and scratch him.
“You’d be stupid to believe this would kill me,” he barks back.
You roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to snap back. “That’s why I said I knew you wouldn’t. Whatever, can’t you feel it?” You point out the scratch mark that slashes across his cheek as gusts of wind sneak through his barrier.
One of Sukuna’s eyes drop and spot a trickle of blood running out of the scratch. Yet instead of countering, or reacting with frustration, Sukuna smirks and flashes it at you. “You know,” he drags out with that smirk still tugged on his lips. “For a woman, you really caught me by surprise. I commend you.”
Commend?
You always forget he’s ancient.
“You are not so terrible to look at it either, I’ll enjoy eating you after.”
At least he didn’t underestimate you. That’s actually surprising considering how old he is. Which actually makes this fight a little less exhilarating, you like to prove people wrong.
But oh well, you’ll still have fun. It’s been a while since you’ve used your domain, so why don’t you show off? And since you can’t use the sweet revenge of death against him, you’ll show the King of curses pain. Pain for breaking your heart and robbing what was precious to you.
Nanako, Mimiko…Satoru.
Today at this moment, in this fight, he will pay for what he did, he will pay for stealing their lives. He will feel your pain still atonginzimg your heart, and the anger coursing through your blood and casting your arms on fire born from flames burning within you.
Sukuna’s smirk widens to an amused grin, only turning his already intimidating face, actually horrifying. But you don’t let him affect you, your glare seethes with anger and heartbreak as you throw your fist up and rip the piece of the earth that he stands on to hurl it in the air on purpose.
Sukuna figures that out, but you blast off after him with one hand already reaching for his neck. He smirks and turns his arm to throw a slash at you, but this is your domain. Yours! Not his. He doesn’t have unlimited access to the elements, you do, so you drop the support of the air blasting you in the sky and let gravity pull you down to avoid being slashed.
“Tsk,” Sukuna still expresses with amusement and uses the air to make space between you while also fighting the tornado's grip aching to pull him in to tangle with its violent winds.
Nonetheless, it’s like you said, this is your domain, so you catch him off guard by bursting water through the spinning walls in the form of your giant hand, causing Sukuna’s eyes to slowly narrow as he watches how the water-made hand grows several feet high with no limitation. His eyes then drop to meet yours and he catches a cocky smirk playing on your face that ticks him off but also doesn’t fail to amuse him.
However, that amusement is all too quickly wiped off his face when the hand swings down and flings him in the tornado. You don’t fail to follow after him, knowing the winds won’t cut you, or constrict air from reaching your lungs, and your anti-domain barrier won’t shatter. Sukuna on the other hand, no matter how strong he can’t escape needing to breathe. The winds travel so fast and the air pressure runs so high that he has to heave to breathe. And that barrier?
That barrier begins to crack no matter how hard he fights to keep it up, letting you use this falter to lunge at him and manage to slap your hands on his face.
From this close Sukuna can see how glossy your eyes are, he can see the aching pain in your eyes, and the fury within the fires lit in them. If only you were strong enough to actually kill him at that moment, but you leave one thing unaccounted for; he can still slash you using his hands. All he needs is his consciousness and you didn’t take that.
Thus as your palms burn on his skin, and you begin to open your mouth to hurt your throat to blast fire out at his face, he grips onto your side.
You feel his cold hand slap on your body. When you look down you realize at that moment what he's seconds away from doing, and who he could hurt as an outcome, so you quickly let his face go, and kick him back to push yourself out of the spinning winds of the tornado before he could tear your torso apart.
When you land back on solid ground, he manages to pull himself out of the tornado's grip and lands on the ground across from you with a reaction you weren’t expecting. “Your children should be proud to have such a ferocious mother. Not every mother's rage would burn as hot.”
He’s complimenting you. He’s not looking at you with ill intent, or cursing you for getting the upper hand. It terrifies you.
“What you should know though,” he mutters with a hardening stare. “I can play with fire too.”
You nervously clench your jaw and take a step back as you choose to let the tornado go and be left surrounded by just the marvelous walls of water.
Your flames probably can’t kill him, but they can hurt him, and him not healing his demon eyes you burnt proves that.
His flames could potentially kill you depending on how hot they burn and no matter how much you protect yourself against them, but being trapped in your domain can be a good countermeasure, you have unlimited power of your elements, and you can put up a good fight! Countering him will burn up a lot more of your cursed energy, but that doesn’t matter, not with him, not now when you can taste a hopeful end. And it especially doesn’t matter with your pain.
He stands there taunting you, reminding you of all he took. How can you not give him all you got? You’re strong!
You’re not a young and helpless girl who broke a sweat lifting rocks. You’re strong, you're powerful, and you’re vengeful!
Alas, just as you prepare to counter a fire attack from him, he crouches down hastily and slaps his hand on the ground, and mutters, “Spider-web.”
Your eyes widen and just as you prepare to deflect, the ground rumbles beneath you before suddenly it all shatters, leaving you unbalanced and open.
Or so he thinks.
Just as he prepares to find a way out of your domain, the debris is blasted up by wild flames that shoot from the ground beneath you, before suddenly giant fire-made fingers grab the edge of the ground.
The debris Sukuna made finds its way to form around the fire-made hands, while other pieces fall inside the gap and form around a head that rises out of the gap, followed by a woman figure.
When the fire-made woman stands in all her glory, Sukuna notices that the figure reflects you.
Nevertheless, he still finds your gaze between the gap of the figure's legs and flashes an all too menacing glare. But you don’t let that deadly look rattle you, you harden your glare and counter his threat.
“The last person who competed with my fire died,” Sukuna’s voice echoes throughout your domain. “Let’s see how long you remain standing, Gojo.”
You choose to stop waiting and use the figure towering before you to bring a rock-wrapped fist down in an attempt to crush Sukuna. But he of course manages to hold back the giant fist with his impressive strength, using two hands, and leaving one that he can’t use to put up a barrier so he's left him vulnerable.
Thus you use the other giant hand, but first drop the rocks protecting the fire, leaving a bare and bright fire-made hand.
Without a doubt from the corner of his eyes, Sukuna catches your intentions and uses ‘Spider-Web’ again to shatter the rock layer wrapped around the fire-made hand he's holding, before hurling himself back to make distance.
But not enough. He’s still in reach of your fire-made hands. You can hurt him again, even a little is enough.
You’ll show him pain…
And with that fueling your adrenaline, you form both of the fire-made hands into blades and quickly swing at Sukuna.
Albeit you meet his gaze between the gap of your figure's legs and don’t see him trying to counter with fire. Through the roaring of fire, you hear one word that drops your heart to your stomach.
“Dismantle.”
Sukuna flashes you a faint smirk, and as the fire blades swing, long and tall slashes formed like a net come barreling at you, bringing with them your fate with no escape or miraculous survival. And if you died now what would be the point? What have you done besides take his demon eyes?
Nothing. And you made promises, you have Satori waiting for you, you won’t let Sukuna make her an orphan.
Hence with a heavy heart, you dismantle your domain, making everything within disappear along with it, only leaving you, your opponent, and the net of slashes threatening you to meet the same fate as Kashimo.
However, you have an advantage, a gift he didn’t.
“Cursed technique; fire serpent,” you announce and throw your hands out to cast off the head of the fire-serpent that quickly blasts its deadly flames, and barely manages to protect you against the slashes that could’ve killed you, leaving you face to face against Sukuna without the advantage of your domain, but with fire standing tall between you, bringing you a menacing demeanor as you hold Sukuna’s gaze through the flames.
“Standing a little too tall?” He doesn’t ask, he says it in an almost teasing tone.
You hold his gaze even if it feels like if you stare any longer he’ll just somehow kill you.
“What is a King to a God?” You retort.
Sukuna’s head tilts slightly and his eyes snap down and quickly come back up to your face. “If only Nanako and Mimiko had your confidence. Maybe then they’d be alive.”
Nanako and Mimiko, why does he keep saying their names as if he knew them? Him? Their killer.
Why does he keep looking at you like he’s expecting something, does he want to see you over-exceed yourself? Trick you like he did moments ago when he made you believe he’d fight with his fire so you could drop your domain?
Is saying their names some game to him?
It’s not to you.
Why did he kill them? They just wanted Suguru back. Why?
You want to ask. You need to ask.
“Why?” You ask with an anger that keeps building up. “Why did you kill them? They were just girls.”
“Hm?” He hums and tilts his head with an unsatisfied look. “Why not? I was bored and they thought they could ask me for something. You should’ve taught them respect. Tsk.” He shakes his head playfully, triggering your anger to explode, making you clench your jaw, and letting tears run down your cheeks while you dig your heels on the ground, and expand your cursed energy below the ground to connect to the water flowing below.
You also remember them, Nanako, and Mimiko. Their beautiful faces, their faces when they were little girls relieved to be out of the cages they were kept in. You see their smiles and all you want is your girls back. You want your brother back.
But it’s impossible. Sukuna made it impossible to see them again and now he makes jokes out of them.
He’ll hurt…
Thus using your cursed technique, you summon water to explode out of the ground around you, whilst turning off the fire dancing in front of you, and grow the water intimidatingly big as if you had summoned a deadly tsunami.
And even if holding it up weighs you down, you spin it around you so it can grow taller behind you before you blast it at him like a crashing wave, making sure to mix chunks of the ground with it, and not waiting to see if he was hurled back or came out unscathed before you use your speed and zoom forward through the thick body of water, hoping to catch him by surprise,.
Yet when the water falls, he’s no longer where he stood, instead, mere seconds later his shadow casts on the ground, making your eyes widen whilst you spin around and swing your hand back that you bask with fire-built blades.
However, Sukuna is quick, he catches your wrist with one of his big hands, not caring if the fire burns his skin. He then stares at you with beads of water rolling down his forehead before suddenly bringing his other hand up and wrapping it around your throat.
He sees the worm cursed spirit around your neck and tries to grab it but it turns itself small before it can be caught and hides in your pocket, leaving Sukuna to focus back on you and slam you into the ground, causing you to see a glimpse of darkness that was filled with dancing stars.
“So flamboyant, just like your brother,” he sneers. “You’re starting to annoy me.”
At the mention of your brother, you find the strength to throw your legs around his arm and tilt your head down to chomp down on his hand.
“Wha—”
Before he can finish, fire comes out of your mouth, burning your throat and roasting his hand—not like he cared though because he follows by picking you up and slamming you back into the ground multiple times, hoping you’d slip and not protect yourself, but you do and counter back by using your leg and directing gusts of wind to hit him with an uppercut on his chin.
This makes him drop your throat, but you don’t have to appreciate how relieving it feels to breathe properly, you use the wind to spin up and have the upper ground. Sukuna spots you right away and doesn’t come up after you, he claps his hands together, telling you one thing; he’s gonna use Piercing blood.
Hm.
Thanks to seeing Choso do it, you clap your hands together and have fire seep out of your hands and surround them. When you catch Sukuna’s blood arrow departing from his grip, you shoot the fire-made arrow out at the same time.
Once both arrows collide the fire breaks the blood apart and now targets Sukuna, but he moves, so you quickly mirror Choso’s move by making the arrow trail after your opponent.
Sukuna evades your arrow too well though and hurls up a sharp slash that you barely avoid by snapping your head to the side. He then quickly charges at you to overwhelm you and not leave you time to think of a smart counter-measure, but…you’re no teenage kid getting the grasp of your cursed technique and every dangerous attack your world has to offer, you've been taught well, you’ve been pushed, and you learned to not be a weak link.
You can be a monster too. Your hearts hardened once too.
It’s why you collect all the wind in the sky, making thick and dark clouds that cast the city in darkness. You bring the water up that you recently used and summon out more to shoot up and twist with the cyclone of wind. The earth sitting below trembles before chunks fly up and tangle with the growing twister. Lastly, you throw your arms out and use every ounce of strength you have to create fire from within and throw it out to mix with the other spinning elements.
You said he’ll know pain. You said he’ll hurt, so even if all four elements weigh you down and burn through your energy, strength, and cursed energy, you bring down the spinning cyclone on Sukuna before he can reach you, forcing him to slam into the ground.
You then stop using the wind to your advantage on land on stable ground to feed the cyclone with a mother's rage, and a sister's grief. Tears cloud your eyes before spilling out and streaming down the curve of your cheeks. It all weighs down so much that it begins to burn your muscles and hurt your chest, but you see Sukuna shielding himself with his arms to protect himself, you see him creating a crater on the ground as the elements shove him down, you see blood spilling out of cuts that weren’t there before, and that pain numbs.
All that torments your heart numbs away. It all goes quiet except for your beating heart, you feel that thumping in your ears.
Ba-dum.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum, ba-dum…
It starts to race until everything falls deafeningly silent and a flicker of your pain reappears and grows like wildfire, spreading its agonizing flames everywhere to the point you can’t handle it anymore.
You can’t…it hurts too much. So…with a trembling lip and tears streaming down, you cry out and power the fire that burns hot, the wind that cuts sharply, the water that hits roughly, and the earth that breaks away his strength.
It’s all so mesmerizing.
But through that pain and those tears, you don’t see when he manages to find an escape. You see his blood pooled on the ground and grow proud to know you caused the King of Curses the pain you promised, but you don’t see a glimpse of him.
There’s nothing until the hairs on the back of your neck rise, and a chortle breaks through the roaring of the elements. You twist your head back and gasp when you see him above you with a wicked grin brought by you, and the slash that you catch him throw at your torso.
It would’ve killed you, it would’ve cut right through you and left pieces of you, but you manage to catch it in time and drop all the elements you were just using to focus all your power on protecting yourself.
But the slash travels fast and manages to cut you across your chest, and throws you down to the ground with all its force.
Now you expect to face death once again. Your friends after all, but your heart beats, and air travels through your lungs.
You expect darkness to follow, but even if your eyes droop the sky is clear.
It’s all clear, so you wonder through your delirium, if this is what Satoru saw, this beautiful sky before he died. Did he feel the snowflakes fall on his face like you do?
Did he think of you like you think of him now?
Probably not. Most likely not. But what did he feel at those last moments?
Peace, that he finally could stop being the strongest, that his actual moment of rest was in death? Or did he feel disappointed that he lost?
If only you could tell him he fought well, that he gave everyone an advantage by taking Sukuna’s domain, and that he made you and everyone proud.
You want to tell him, and fall like he did, but…death doesn’t come back for you.
“You were a lot of fun,” you hear Sukuna’s grating voice close by. “Really. I had fun fighting you, Gojo. But you were annoying, so I’ll have to get rid of you. Be proud though, you’re strong.”
“Fuck you,” you grimace as you fist your hands.
Sukuna scoffs in disapproval and stops before your feet.
You keep your eyes on the sky and start to think of a way to counter.
Fire?
Sure why not.
Yet just as you lift your hand and Sukuna gets ready to strike, suddenly someone’s feet land on your sides, and the gruesome sound of metal slashing flesh echoes.
You quickly blink and shift your gaze down and see Kusakabe has come in between Sukuna and you. He saved you.
“Go,” he bellows. “Before you can't. Go!”
You’d be stupid to linger behind, and even worse to stay and fight with him with the slash still across your chest because you can still fight so you can’t risk dying yet.
“You owe me for this,” Kusakabe tells you with a strain in his voice.
You drag yourself back and push yourself up even if your arms throb because of the slash on your chest.
“I’m in your debt Kusakabe,” you assure him softly.
“Heh. Hell yeah, now get out. They’ll need you.”
You hesitate leaving him to fight alone against Sukuna, but he’s right, so after one last lingering look at the man who saved your life, you run away from the scene.
You’re not even aware of how far you get because the pain is throbbing and overwhelming, it’s not until you bump into someone that you snap out of your pain-ridden stupor.
“Yuji!” You exclaim with relief.
He calls out your name in surprise and immediately finds the bleeding wound on your chest. He wants to say something, but the sight of his brother turning the corner and joining you cuts him off
“Choso,” you whisper.
Said man wastes no time—albeit he probably already knew you were hurt too by the broadcast, but he still quickly finds the gash on your chest still bleeding and fresh, and a deep crease grows in between his eyebrows while his lips fall to a long frown.
“I’m sorry,” you can’t help but say since you know watching you fight, watching you fall was one of the worst times of his life.
“You’re…okay?” He asks as if in disbelief.
You nod but he doesn’t see it before he strides over and grabs you by your shoulders to push you back against a wall and pull you down to the ground.
“Choso,” you call out, but it goes to deaf ears, you can see the panic blocking his senses. “Cho.”
Said man looks for something in his pockets, but when he doesn’t seem to find it he pulls on his vest, so you grab his wrists even if seeing him with fewer clothes will really help you heal.
“Choso, stop, stop. Take a minute and look.” You interject as you see that you have his undivided attention now. “I’m healing. I’ll be okay.”
Choso’s brown eyes gleaming with frustration and worry fall on your gash and he sees the RCT do its job and mend the deep wound Sukuna gave you.
“The babies, are they okay?” You have him focus on something else, and he immediately gets lost in that feeling written deep in his soul.
When he doesn’t feel any loss he meets your gaze and nods lightly, making you smile and bring one of his hands to your chest so he can feel the rhythm of your heart.
“I wasn’t going to fall to him,” you try to keep assuring him. “I told you.”
You cup his hand and offer him a teasing smile. “Be upset at me if that’s what you want.”
Choso swallows thickly. “You were stupid. Stupidly brave.”
You laugh softly and nod. “Chaotic techniques require risks.”
He scoffs and holds your gaze for a second to appreciate the life sparking within them and thank the stars that he wasn’t staring at dull and lifeless eyes.
“I copied some of the moves from your piercing blood,” you show off proudly. “Did you see?”
The corner of his lips flicker to a smile as he nods, but he doesn’t get to respond because he then drops his forehead on yours and cups your cheeks. “I saw you fall,” he mutters against your lips. “And my world was about to collapse. I ran here as fast as I could.”
You bring your hand up and cup his soft and warm cheek, making him lean into your touch as if he’s gone years without the feeling of your gentle touch.
“I wasn’t going to leave you,” you murmur. “Just like you're not going to leave me.”
“Never.”
A wobbly smile tugs on your lips and he mirrors it before pressing his lips on yours and taking you in for a lingering kiss he needs to just reassure himself that you in fact are alive and standing before him, that you’re not some figment of his imagination, or a pretty billboard.
“I love you,” you remind him after your close reunion with death.
“And I love you,” he doesn’t hesitate to return quickly and with deep tenderness.
You muster a soft smile and steal one last kiss from his lips before watching him sit beside you to let you finish mending your wound.
“Choso,” you call out as you have a deja vu.
“Hm?” He probes and looks at you.
You smile at your fingers on the ground and slowly slip them over his and turn your head to meet his gaze and tell him what you remember. “We were sitting like this after we decided to become allies, remember? It was after I found my daughters. Do you remember?”
Choso pulls his hand out to lay it over yours and cups your hand in his grasp instead. “Of course, I remember. I’ll remember when I turn old and can barely get out of bed.”
You chuckle and he smiles at you just because he hears you laugh.
“That’s when I knew you know,” you tell him what you haven’t told him before.
“What?” He presses curiosily.
You hold his curious gaze and share your truth. “That you had a good heart and that we were going to be great friends. I knew since that day that I didn’t want to live without you in my life.”
His lips tremble but he doesn’t let himself cry, he just offers you a wobbly smile before bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles.
“It hurts?” He asks.
You know what he refers to but you find a moment to tease him in your sudden shift from pain to slow relief. “Falling for you? Worth all the pain.”
Choso blinks in confusion, while you notice Yuji’s annoyed reaction.
“Oh,” Choso gasps and snorts as his cheeks grow a bright shade of red. “Well, I was wondering about your gash.”
You lean your body towards him and shake your head. “It’s slowly going away. I’ll be good to go in a few minutes.”
Choso shakes his head. “No, you said when you got hurt I could pull you away. You got hurt, deeply. You can’t go back.”
“Uh,” Yuji breaks his silence.
You and Choso look up and see two shadows approaching before you see Larue and Miguel.
“Good luck with that,” Miguel announces their entrance. “You’ll have better luck raising the dead than making her sit on the bench.”
You knew they were hanging by nearby waiting if they were going to be needed, or if they could go home unscathed. But still seeing them meet up with you makes your breath hitch.
“We saw you fall,” Larue directs at you with concern painted all over his face. “And we decided that we couldn’t hide in the shadows any longer.”
You’re annoyed that they didn’t tell you about Kenjaku and everything that came with that business, but after losing your brother, and after fighting for justice for Nanako and Mimiko, seeing your family fills you with relief and bliss that you hide however.
You slowly stand up with Choso’s help and stare at them nonchalantly, making both Larue and Miguel wait for a cold shoulder or a quip. You approach them and they draw in a breath. And when you stop before them they both share a knowing look, but ultimately you close the gap with an embrace around the both of them.
“Oh,” Miguel mouths.
You lost Suguru, Nanako, and Mimiko, your brother and so many others, how can you stay mad at them when life has taken so much?
If they died today and you never get to make up you’d regret it your whole life, so with this tight embrace the grudge and that anger you had against them melts away and you’re left with a beaming grin, and bliss that you have them here with you.
“I’m not glad you guys are here,” you mutter, “but I am happy that you came.”
Larue rubs your back before you pull back to face them.
“Who is happy to be here?” Miguel remarks. “No one.”
You scoff in amusement and Larue grabs your shoulder to check on your wound.
“It seems you’re healing fine.”
“You’ll fight with us then? When it’s our time to go next?” Miguel goes off Larue’s comment.
“No,” Choso answers for you but you ignore him and answer for yourself.
“Yes. I have some fight left in me even after. I can keep him busy,” you assure them, Yuji, and Choso. “Just don't expect any more big moves.”
“But your domain must’ve taken a lot from you,” Yuji interjects. “How could you possibly still have more cursed energy right now?”
“She’s a special grade for a reason, kid,” Miguel argues. “It’s also why she can’t sit back for that reason.”
“Unless you guys have some kind of family technique I don’t see why she needs to be out there,” Choso tries to protest.
You and Larue giggle at that comment before you walk over to your husband and grab his shoulder to reassure him. “You’ll be with me this time, you can look out for me this time. Make sure we’re okay, hm? Just don’t ask me to stay behind when my family is out here risking their lives.”
Choso glances at Larue and Miguel and shoots them a warning. “Just don’t ask her to pull anything dramatic. She doesn’t have the energy for that.” He then drifts his gaze back to you and narrows his gaze to a threatening glare. “Use weapons as much as you can from now on. Leave your technique for when you really need it.”
He won’t get off your back if you don’t make any kind of agreement so you agree to give him some peace of mind. Besides leaning more towards weapons from now on is a smart idea considering you don’t know how far Sukuna wants to take this fight. You might need your technique later for something bigger.
“All right. Fine.”
Choso holds your gaze and looks as if you’re being deceitful, but when he sees that sincerity behind your eyes he lets out a relieved deep breath and shares it with soft words. “Thank you.”
You offer him a sweet smile and plant a peck on his cheek, making his lips twitch to a smile.
“You remember Larue and Miguel right?” You make sure to ask since he hasn’t had the time to really spend time with your family.
“Yes,” Choso says and steals a glimpse at them. “They were at the wedding, I remember.”
You turn to face your family to ask the same thing about Choso but Yuji then interrupts.
“Can I ask you something, Mr Larue? Are you not cold?”
You snort and cut in for him before he can respond. “No. You see those hearts on his chest? They're heat warmers.” You smirk and bounce your eyebrows before you take your phone out and continue to snicker.
“Really?” Yuji falls for it.
“No,” Larue blurts. “That joke is old.”
You chuckle. “Like you.”
“We’re the same age, but my knowledge and wise spirit do make me older than you,” he counters smugly.
You look away from your phone and look at him with a quirked brow. “The only thing you are is a know-it-all. No one likes those.”
Larue feigns a laugh and you turn around swiftly but peer over your shoulder whilst Choso turns with you, and you interject before Larue can say some witty comeback. “Careful,” you feign a pout. “Or mommy is gonna get mad.”
Choso’s eyes snap to you and his cheeks grow warm, whilst Miguel remarks.
“What the hell did you just say?”
You start walking out of the alleyway to go and help Kusakabe since you doubt he could keep Sukuna entertained for long.
“It’s a true statement I am mother,” you argue between snickers.
“I hate when you refer to yourself like that, it’s weird,” Miguel spats.
You ignore him and click on the broadcast and see just as you assumed, Kusakabe falling after being slashed.
At least he lasted a few minutes, you’ll give him props for that and not running away. Oh! And for saving your life. You owe him.
“Well,” you sigh. “Looks like we’re all up now. Larue, Miguel, you take Sukuna from above, I will go with Choso and Yuji from below.” You tell them affirmably.
“Hm,” Larue hums in comprehension, and with no need to argue, he just worries. “Be careful, you have a little one waiting for you. You’ve already been hurt.”
You stop in your tracks and turn to face them with a sad smile. “You two be careful too, we have a family dinner waiting for us after this is over to welcome the new members to our family.” You mention and glance at Yuji to let him know he’s included, and lastly look at Choso with a soft smile.
Choso eyes soften and he faintly mirrors your gentle gesture with appreciation that you included his little brother too.
“We’re fighting together,” Larue says with a slight smirk. “Like we always have, that’s a guarantee to our success. We’ll see you out there.”
You hum in agreement and watch until their figures are out of sight and all you is an empty alleyway.
Lately, life has been cruel. Maybe it’s what you deserve for all the evil you’ve done. Life is just collecting its justice, but you just hope—no pray, that you won't lose no one else.
You’ve never been a super religious person, but you know above everything else that the ones you love, cherish, and pray will live, don’t deserve that anguish. Maybe you do, you know how karma works, you recognize you’ve done bad things, but all you want from now on is for life to not be so cruel to them. Please…
