Headcanons of Satoru Gojo as your knight in shining armour...
☆Knight!Gojo who was honoured to be assinged to guard the princess. To protect this kingdoms most precious treasure, their future monarch.
☆Knight!Gojo who soon realised this task wouldn't be so simple when you started to test his resolve.
☆Knight!Gojo who has trained with the kingdoms most powerful warriors, who has survived battles and won glory in bloodshed. And yet finds he is weak to the flutter of your eyelashes.
☆Knight!Gojo who discovers something much more important than his assignment when you kiss him under the stars.
☆Knight!Gojo who had given you his heart before he even realised it. Who's armour couldn't protect him from falling in love.
☆Knight!Gojo who sneaks into your rooms after nightfall. After all, what better place is there to protect you than right by your side?
☆Knight!Gojo who is soft when the armour comes off, who smells of iron and citrus and something unique, who's eyes are impossibly blue under the visor.
☆Knight!Gojo who smiles after you fall asleep in his arms, all while whispering vows against your temple. Vows to protect you with his life if it ever comes to it.
☆Knight!Gojo who finds it amusing when you dance with princelings from other kingdoms. He is not jealous, for he knows he's the one who will end up in your bedchambers in just a few hours.
☆Knight!Gojo who knows he cannot be yours in the end, that someday you'll have to choose someone else- for the kingdom.
☆Knight!Gojo who is grateful he gets this time with you regardless. He will cherish it forever.
The Kori clan had always been a cult posing as a clan. Operating in the deep shadows of the jujutsu world, their existence was known only to corrupt higher-ups and the members sworn to their secrets. They practiced various rituals forbidden in the jujutsu world. Prohibited because they were used entirely for self-interest, which included aiding others only in exchange for something greater. A deep sense of superiority permeated the clan; after all, they held knowledge that most of society remained blind to.
In order for the rituals to work, the clan needed an heir capable of absorbing negative energy. It was a hereditary trait, and only through such an heir could the rest of the clan achieve the ability themselves. Most members possessed weak and unstable absorption. They could perform simple rituals, but the more significant ones remained entirely out of reach. Even basic rituals demanded grueling effort and constant practice. None could compare to Hina and her younger twin brother, Hikaru; The heirs of the Kori clan in the modern era.
Rituals were not the only thing their absorption could accomplish. Birth of local curses could be suppressed, though it was nowhere near enough to combat the overwhelming number of curses in the world. It barely made a dent. Still, their absorption possessed a secondary, involuntary effect: they acted as emotional sponges, inadvertently soaking up the misery of those nearby and leaving them with a hollow, fleeting sense of peace.
For Hina and Hikaru, the ability came naturally.
Yet the gift was far from a blessing.
It was forbidden for a reason, wreaking havoc on both the mind and the body. Unless one could utilize the Reversed Cursed Technique, the ability was essentially a slow poison— and even then, it was a harrowing power to possess. Although absorption came with a healing factor, it was like a dimming light fighting against the wind; a constant struggle to endure the filth.
Clan members had to go through it too. The only reason they survived it at all was because of their heirs. Not only did they gain power through them, but they also relied on them like a renewable source, their own negative energy continuously drawn in by the heirs like a vacuum.
Once the inheritors died, however, the clan would not lose their abilities immediately. Instead, the accumulated negative energy would slowly consume them from within.
Agonizingly.
***
The Kori clan is governed by a strict triumvirate: the Executor, the Advisor, and the Overseer to ensure everything remains in order. They genuinely believe they will rule jujutsu society one day.
Hina harbors a deep resentment toward their objective. Well, it doesn't really matter what grandeur they promise when it strips you of your rights, or of the things that make you feel human, reducing you to a mere source for others' gain. She tries her best to keep her brother from falling into their twisted ways.
Even though she possessed the hereditary technique and traits, she was never considered a candidate for heirship, simply because she was a woman. Hikaru met enough of their requirements for them to eagerly shape him into the future face of the clan.
There was only one problem: Hikaru was weaker.
Being twins only made things worse. In jujutsu society, twins were considered a bad omen—two souls dividing what should have been one. As a result, neither could ever reach their full potential. Because of this, it was initially proposed that Hikaru be executed. Their mother was the one who begged endlessly for her child's life to be spared, pleading a case to compromise and use them both for different purposes: Hina would act as the official powerhouse and heir, while Hikaru would handle the clan's operations from the underground.
Even so, growing up Hina and Hikaru didn't receive much of their mother's love. Yet, not even for a second did Hina truly blame her. Their mother had been forced into this life at a young age, her own years sacrificed for children who couldn't even relieve her of her pain. Ungrateful children. Hina had thought many times, "well she's a human too right? Or...?"
No human deserved something so cruel.
Abuse was not always direct violence: sometimes it was being forced to harm others. It could be handled by both: a human and a weapon. The only difference is that a weapon could not confess the sins it had witnessed nor speak of the atrocities it had committed, willingly or not. Complaining was not an option. It was a curse.
So what did that make her mother? A weapon, or a human? The answer was not clear. She only knew her mother deserved better.
Being a human is much nicer, though. That way, feelings are not a weight you must carry. As someone's tool, however, you must face whatever nature they wield to defend themselves with. Their true selves.
***
Actually there's more I wanted to reveal about Hina and her clan. But I decided it's not something I wanna tell in one go. This chapter was also supposed to have a second part, but I could not finish writing it yet. I don't wanna rush it and try to write my best. Thank you for your patience!
(Guys, English is NOT my first language. SO, it won't be the best. It could be overexegrated too because I dug into a lot of words and stuff to make it sound fancy or whatever.😭)
***
Jujutsu High wasn't taking in enrollments at the moment. However, they made exceptions for training heirs from influential clans. The higher-ups, after all, had to maintain their standing with the families. That's where Gojo Satoru and Kori Hina come in. Being a sorcerer meant learning how to call devotion by a different name: Weapon.
Gojo Satoru had the six eyes and Limitless technique. Hina had Redaction.
They met when they were children. Never talked much though.
June, 2003.
Gojo had a reputation for getting beaten up often by the second and third-years. He never fought back, even though he easily could. Hina, who was well-known around the school, saw him getting bullied frequently.
He was called a freak and worse; "albino weirdo" was one of their favorite names for him. Hina found it odd. So what if he had white hair? It suited him. Besides, everyone's characteristics were unique to themselves.
But he never fought back. That was the thing Hina noticed most, and it pissed her off. He was the Gojo Satoru. No one would bat an eye if he taught those punk-asses a lesson. So, what was wrong with him?
Maybe it was because of how long they had known each other, but she felt a strange obligation to intervene. Usually, her "help" consisted of simply passing by while he was getting beaten, muttering for them to stop, and walking away right after.
It was no surprise when Hina heard the familiar sounds of mocking laughter on a random Saturday. Following the noise, she found him bleeding. It had never gone this far before.
Ironically, Gojo looked like the crazy one here.
Hina had finally had enough.
"Fuck off, yeah?"
The second-years didn't even have time to react before she was kicking their asses. They fled as fast as they could. Hina rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "Fuckasses..."
She extended a hand to help Gojo up. He stared at it like a dumb chicken for a while before finally taking it. The cold touch of his skin contrasted sharply with her warmth, grounding him more than words ever could.
She was too annoyed to even ask, yet the question slipped out anyway. "Why wouldn't you defend yourself...?"
Before he could answer, she turned on her heel. As usual, she left.
***
(I'll add Hina's appearance and a cover to this story later. Y'all are free to imagine yourself as Hina! Also I know I'm not writing Gojo perfectly and there might or might not be mischaracterization...but, I'll try to make him stay in character as much as I can.)
i’m not sure because i mostly write for satoru gojo, but i feel like there’s a stark difference in engagement in stories with him vs other jjk characters and im not sure if it’s because of the audience i’ve attracted who favor him like me or if it’s just his popularity in general
currently thinking about siri!satoru who gets all needy and clingy when he knows you're using another virtual assistant to help you. he knows he's better, and he has a foolproof way to test that out. . . coming to life, of course!
ᘛᰍ𝅄 how 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 and 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 act with a crybaby girlfriend ♡
ᘛ ꒰ satoru gojo and satoshi gojo (separate) x crybaby reader | university au | fluff, crack-ish, 3.2k wc. no real warning, this is pure fluff. art by @/ge2lovu dividers by @uzmacchiato and @pixopix ྀིა
nerdjo and his crybaby girlfriend ♡
You've cried in front of Gojo Satoru exactly eleven times. He keeps count. He'll actually say it out loud, mid-argument, like it's evidence in a trial only he's allowed to preside over — "this makes eleven, for the record" — and somehow that's worse than if he'd just let you have the moment.
Right now is going to be twelve.
"I'm not — I'm not upset," you say, even though your voice cracks on the second word and gives you away completely. "I just think it's a little insane that you got a 98 on a test you didn't study for and you're acting like it's a personal failing."
"It is a personal failing." Satoru doesn't even look up from where he's re-deriving the two points he lost, pen tapping an impatient little rhythm against the desk. His glasses have slid halfway down his nose and he hasn't bothered to push them up, which somehow makes him look more insufferable, not less. "Two points, angel. Two. I know exactly which step I skipped and it's going to bother me until I die."
"You're going to make me die. Of secondhand humiliation. For you."
"Cute of you to worry about my reputation. I don't need the help." He finally glances over, and whatever he sees on your face makes the corner of his mouth twitch — not soft, not yet, more like satisfaction confirming an already-known result. "Oh, don't do that."
"Do what."
"The eyes. You're doing the thing." He sets the pen down with theatrical patience, like you're a mildly interesting variable he's chosen to solve for. "I have never in my life met someone who cries this easily over homework arguments. It's actually kind of a design flaw."
"I'm not crying—" you are, a little, the stupid prickling kind that happens when you're more frustrated than sad and your body doesn't know the difference. You swipe at it fast, annoyed at yourself. "I hate that you keep count."
"I keep count of everything. I have a 4.0 to maintain and apparently also a girlfriend who tears up if I use the word 'technically' in the wrong tone." He says it like a scientist reading off a data point, entirely too pleased with himself, and pushes his chair back to close the distance instead of just talking across the room like a person with object permanence issues. "C'mere."
"No. I'm mad at you."
"You're mad at the concept of me being annoying about a 98, sure. Doesn't mean you don't want a hug." He crouches down in front of your chair anyway, forearms braced on either armrest, effectively caging you in with the sheer, obnoxious confidence of someone who has never once considered that he might be told no and meant it. Up close his eyes are very blue and very smug and it is deeply unfair that you find both of those things attractive. "I'm right, aren't I."
"You're always right, that's your whole thing, it's exhausting."
"It is my whole thing." He reaches up, thumbs the wet line off your cheekbone with a gentleness that doesn't match a single other thing about his personality, and you hate — genuinely, chemically hate — how much that one small contradiction gets you every time. "You cry if I win an argument. You cried when I got us upgraded seats on that flight because the gate agent 'didn't even make me use my full charm.' You cried during that documentary about deep sea fish."
"The fish thing was valid, they live their whole lives in the dark—"
"It was a fish, baby." But he's smiling now, the real one, not the one he performs for the rest of the lecture hall. "Twelve times. You're an easy crier and I'm an insufferable genius and somehow this is the healthiest relationship either of us has ever had."
"That says more about your standards than mine."
"Everything says more about my standards, I have excellent standards, that's how I ended up with you." He kisses your forehead before you can figure out if that was a compliment or an insult, and honestly you've stopped trying to sort those into separate categories where Satoru's concerned; with him they're usually the same thing wearing a different shirt. "You want to know the actual two points I lost? I'll walk you through it. It's genuinely fascinating."
"I do not want a lecture on your test right now."
"You're getting one anyway, you're already crying, might as well cry about integration by parts instead of my ego." He's already standing, already pulling his notebook back toward you both, already narrating before you've agreed to a single word of it — and the worst, most damning part is that you let him, elbow propped against his shoulder, watching him get worked up over a problem he answered correctly, because apparently this is just what loving Gojo Satoru looks like: getting talked at by someone who is never once unsure of himself, and somehow finding it the most steadying thing in your entire week.
"You skipped a substitution step," you point out eventually, squinting at his margin notes. "Right there."
He goes quiet for exactly one second. "...I'm aware."
"You just wanted me to find it myself so you could feel smug about explaining it."
"I contain multitudes." He flips the page like that settles it, entirely unbothered, entirely certain that being caught changes nothing about how correct he is in every category that matters. "Anyway. Thirteen's coming. I can feel it. I'm going to say something devastatingly accurate about your parking technique later and you're going to cry about that too."
"I hate you."
"You really don't," he says, and reaches for your hand without even looking, like it's a formality, like of course it's there — and of course it is.
fratjo and his crybaby girlfriend ♡
The music is still going somewhere downstairs, bass thudding up through the floorboards like a heartbeat that belongs to someone else's house, but up here in Satoshi's room it's just you, him, and the fact that he has not said a single coherent sentence in four minutes.
"You can breathe, you know," you say, sitting cross-legged on his bed while he stands by the door he's just shut, hand still on the knob like he's reconsidering the whole plan. "It's just me."
"I know it's just you." He says it too fast, which is how you know it isn't true — not the just you part, the I know part. Satoshi Gojo, who twenty minutes ago was standing on the kitchen counter doing a keg-stand countdown for a room of forty people, who has thrown three separate house parties this semester and gotten banned from a bar for "excessive charisma" (his words, and somehow the manager's too), currently cannot make eye contact with his own girlfriend in his own bedroom.
"You were fine downstairs," you point out, not unkindly. "You climbed on the counter."
"That's different, that's — everyone down there wants the loud version. That's easy. That's a bit." He finally crosses the room, sits on the very edge of the mattress like he hasn't fully decided he's allowed to, and rubs the back of his neck. "Up here it's just you looking at me and I don't have a — a bit for that. I don't know what to do with my hands."
"You could hold mine."
He looks at your outstretched hand like it might be a trick question, then takes it anyway, and something in his shoulders drops half an inch. "Sorry. You're not — you didn't do anything, I promise, I'm just—"
"Weird when it's quiet. I know." You've had this conversation with him before, in fragments, usually at two in the morning after everyone else has gone home and the house finally goes still enough that the real Satoshi surfaces — soft-spoken, oddly formal, apologizing for things that don't need apologies. It took you a while to understand that the party version of him is the performance and this is the actual boy underneath it, and once you did, you never wanted the performance again. "It's okay. I like this version better anyway."
"You say that, but—" he stops himself, jaw working, and you watch him decide whether to finish the thought.
"But what?"
"But then you cry, and I don't know if it's a good cry or a bad cry, and downstairs I can fix things with, like, a shot and a dumb joke, and up here I just kind of freeze and make it worse." He says it all in a rush, like it's been sitting in him for a while. "You cried on Tuesday because I forgot to text you when I got home and I still don't fully know what to do with that information."
"I cried because I was worried, not because I was mad at you."
"I know that now. In the moment I just saw you crying and my brain went completely white." He laughs, short and a little helpless. "I can talk a stranger into buying a hundred dollars of tequila for a party they weren't even invited to. I cannot handle you getting teary over a missed text. It's genuinely humbling."
"You're doing fine right now."
"I'm doing fine right now because you're not actually upset right now." He squeezes your hand like he's grounding himself with it. "The second the crying starts I turn into a golden retriever that's been left in a thunderstorm. Satoru would probably have some smug little speech ready. I just panic and offer you snacks."
"Satoru counts every time I cry like it's a scoreboard, it's honestly worse."
"See, that's so him. He'd rather be right than useful." Satoshi finally cracks a real smile, the one that doesn't show up much outside this room, easy and a little crooked and entirely unguarded. "I'd rather just — I don't know. Sit here. Hold your hand until it passes. I'm not gonna have some genius thing to say about it."
"You don't need a genius thing to say. You could just say that."
"...Yeah?" He looks almost surprised, like it's news to him that showing up quietly counts for something. "Okay. Noted. For future crying. Just — sit and hold hands, no snacks required unless requested."
"Snacks are always welcome, for the record."
"Right, duly noted, I'll workshop a snack protocol." The noise downstairs swells for a second — someone's turned the bass up, someone's shouting his name from the stairwell, Toshi, bro, get down here — and he glances toward the door like a switch is about to flip back on, the loud version gearing up to clock back in. But he doesn't move yet. He stays sitting on the edge of his bed, thumb tracing slow over your knuckles, in absolutely no hurry to go be a menace to forty strangers when he could just stay here a little longer, quiet, uncertain, entirely yours.
"You don't have to go back down," you say.
"I know." He says it like it surprises him too. "I kind of don't want to."
Downstairs, someone starts chanting his name. Up here, he doesn't let go of your hand.
Captive of the Fae Princes (JJK fantasy AU, Gojo x Reader x Geto)
18+ MDNI | on Ao3 | other JJK things
Summary: You've woken up in the Fae realm...with Prince Gojo staring down at you. He thinks it would be funny to surprise Prince Geto with you instead of killing you outright. You aren't so sure.
Thank you to @succubussdreams for beta'ing this for me <3
Thank you to @orioncipher for further Fae Gojo thots
“Ooh, what do we have here?” a voice chirped as a pointed shoe pushed into your ribs. You groaned in response, clenching your eyes shut. You’d never had a headache like this before. It felt like the hangover from your 18th birthday had a child with a horrible sinus infection and now you were eternally babysitting in hell. Despite how bad you felt, the person above you didn’t seem to care. The shoe prodded at your side again, causing you to roll over and face up. The bright sunlight hit your face, making you cover your eyes with your arm.
Wait, bright sunlight?
You cracked open your eyes, sure you’d see the same dismal looking area you were in the night before. It had been the first pleasant night of the year, and you’d been enjoying kicking it with your friends. Yuji had dared you to enter the old stone circle set way back in the gross ass woods, but looking around, it seemed like you were now in a lush forest. This was nothing like the sparse, thin, ugly treed area you had been in the night before.
The weather was cool and pleasant, and if you had to guess, it was about midday. Trees swayed gently with the breeze, birds chirped overhead, and the sun shone down in stippled streams through the emerald leaves. It was a beautiful scene, but you couldn’t remember a forest like this anywhere near where you had been the previous night.
“Oh my, a human? In my realm? How interesting,” the cool voice drawled at you, suddenly closer. The way he said interesting made you think of the way a child might look at a bug they were about to burn with a magnifying glass. But wait…a human? What did that mean? Wasn’t everyone human? You cracked open your eyes to see a strange man looming over you with a wide smile stretched over his sharp teeth.
You jolted back from him, unsure where you were or who he was. Your sudden movement had you grabbing your forehead in pain. Which in turn had you grabbing your shoulder in pain. Somehow you’d acquired a killer headache (and maybe a broken clavicle) by getting to…wherever you were. Had this person caused it? You struggled to sit up, your back now against the rough bark of the tree behind you.
But beyond your aches and pains, what really caught your attention was the man himself. He was far more beautiful than any other person you’d ever seen. His brilliantly white hair nearly sparkled in the sun, under which his eyes were hidden behind black cloth. His alabaster skin was completely unblemished, like a perfect marble statute. His clothes were basic – he wore a white frilly long sleeve shirt with a black vest and black pants – but exceedingly well tailored, like they were bespoke. Cluing you in to the fact that he was not human, he had long, pointed ears. He was gorgeous beyond compare, like moonlight reflecting off a placid lake on an early summer evening. He looked like a fantasy, an ethereal being not of this world.
But despite his overwhelming beauty, his very nature gave you pause. Something was not quite right with him, his perfection almost eerie. It was like there was a veneer of beauty under which something more sinister lurked, which had the hair rising on the back of your neck. Your gut told you this was no ordinary beautiful man, he was a predator.
And you had the distinct feeling you were his prey.
“You must have come through the veil during Beltane. But why?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. He still was staring down at you despite his eyes being hidden. He crouched down to consider you closely, looking you over intently. You didn’t know how he saw from behind the blindfold, and you were too nervous to ask. He didn’t say anything, but based on his frown, you suspected he found you wanting. Now closer to him, you could smell him a bit, a light floral scent hitting your nose. No, it wasn’t only flowers, you thought. He also smelled like the sky somehow – the sun and air combining to make a unique smell.
After a moment, he reached forward to touch you with his index finger. Since it was unexpected, you flinched back. Instead of apologizing, your reaction made him laugh. The light sound sent shivers down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.
“It seems humans have changed little in the hundreds of years since I’ve last seen one. Still scared little mice, still stinky, still ugly,” he said, his eyes flashing in mirth. Your mouth dropped open in outrage, and you were going to retort but he continued talking. Something about the way he spoke made you think that he was used to people listening. Er, not people…whatever he was.
“Can you speak?” he asked, standing up and clapping his hands twice. “At least say something instead of staring at me so rudely,” he scoffed, moving to lean against the tree.
“I c-can,” you rasped, your voice thick and croaky. You wished you had water, but there wasn’t anything around you except the lovely forest.
“Tch, such an unpleasant voice,” he said, though his tone was light. You narrowed your eyes at the insult, but didn’t say anything. He smiled wider. It was difficult getting a reading on this being, you weren’t sure where you stood with him and it would probably be better not to piss him off.
“I’m sorry, but where am I?” you asked, saying the first question on the top of your mind.
“Why, you’re in the realm of the Seelie! That should be obvious, no?” he replied, his smile turning into a frown. “Have humans really forgotten everything about the Fae?” Your eyes widened – you were in the fae realm? Fae were real? Clearly you were with someone new, in a new setting, and your old life was nowhere to be seen.
You tried to synthesize the new information as quickly as possible. For now, you would accept what he told you and freak out in private later. Hopefully this was all an elaborate dream, but you doubted that was the case based on the pain radiating down your arm. You’d seen enough clips of isekai anime to know that you were somewhere else and denying it would cause more harm than good. It would probably be better to try and suss things out rather than admit you were completely lost and confused.
“You’re a fairy?” you asked, your eyes flicking over his form. But then where were his wings?… you gasped as a moment later, his face was inches from yours. Suddenly all the humor of moments prior sucked out of the air as he held you pinned with only a look. He wasn’t touching you, wasn’t even breathing on you, but his presence had you immobilized all the same.
“Never call us fairies,” he hissed. His presence felt heavy, like he was pressing on you from every angle despite him not touching you. You didn’t know what fae magic was like, but if this was an example, you were completely screwed in terms of strength. You would do anything to avoid being under his gaze like this – and he was doing this all with his eyes covered.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” you cried out, holding your shoulder with one hand. The pressure was hurting you even more than adjusting your shoulder did. He regarded you coolly, like he was contemplating your murder in his mind. A moment later you sagged against the tree as he released you; you hadn’t even seen him move. He crossed his arms, his mouth now turned into a pout.
“What do you know about the Fae?” he asked icily, drumming his fingers on his arms. You licked your lips and thought hard. Outside of general ren-faire based knowledge, you really didn’t know much. Sure, you saw one of the Lord of the Rings movies – but you’d fallen asleep halfway through. And you’d bought the Booktok fantasy book your friends had recommended, but you hadn’t actually read it yet. Even if you had consumed a lot of fantasy, you weren’t sure what was true and what wasn’t.
“I’m not sure I know anything,” you hedged, trying to take the safest route. You didn’t want him hurting you again, even if the damage had been slight. Maybe he would take pity on you and tell you what you needed to know. His toothy smile returned, a cheshire grin spreading across his face.
“Wonderful. I’ll be happy to tell you anything you wish to know. I am Prince Gojo of the Seelie Court. Please, do give me your name?” he asked, his tone much more respectful than it had been moments prior. You narrowed your eyes. There was something afoot, you were sure of it. The shift alone gave you pause, but there was something else gnawing at your mind. Wasn’t there something about the fae and names? Names being power or something like that? Or like bonding maybe? There was something about names, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. You shifted a moment, trying to think before answering.
“Some people call me, um…Ivy,” you said, looking behind him at a clearing. It was a little stupid to pick the first thing you saw, but some animal part of your brain was telling you not to share your real name. Besides, your mom had called you that once or twice when you were younger, given your proclivity to climb trees. So it wasn’t a complete lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth. Prince Gojo frowned at your words as he smacked his lips.
“No, that’s not quite right. Do give me your real name?” he insisted, giving you a more genuine smile. Or, you guessed it was his approximation of one since he was doubling down.
“That’s what people call me,” you asserted. No matter if he squished you again, you wouldn’t be giving him your real name. There was something about it, and you weren’t going to give up the little power you had in this new world. Prince Gojo scowled for a moment before allowing the harsh expression to slip off his face.
“Well, time to go!” he said cheerfully.
“Where are we going?” you asked, looking around you. There didn’t seem to be anything but forest all around. Gojo threw back his head and laughed loudly, like you had told a great joke.
“Human impertinence never ceases to amaze me. We aren’t going anywhere. I’m going back to my court and castle, and you’re going to the afterlife!” he said, still chortling to himself.
“I’m going back to where I’m from?” you asked, your brows hitched in confusion.
“Ha! No, no. You’re quite funny, though,” he said, his white hair waving softly in the wind. “The magic between our worlds is too strong right now for you to successfully pass through the veil. I mean, you could try but you’d certainly die. You would have to wait for Samhain, when the veil is thin again, to try and go through. But that wouldn’t be for some time, given that Beltane was last night. Now the Seelie court is in full power. Samhain is next and it’s when the veil is thinnest for the Unseelie, so you’d have to convince Geto to let you through,” he explained. You didn’t quite catch the meaning of everything he was saying, but it was clear you couldn’t go home the way you came.
“But that doesn't matter. Humans aren't allowed in this realm. I shall have to dispose of you,” he said, shrugging a shoulder like it was nothing to him. Your mouth popped open in shock – he was casually planning to kill you? You scrambled back, your fingers and feet scrabbling against the forest floor. A small ball of blue was now pulsing in front of his finger, like a lazer trained on you.
“Though…you are somewhat amusing. And I’m desperately bored,” he mused, the ball quickly vanishing into nothingness. Whatever magic he had was strong, though you supposed that was why he was the Prince of the realm. Sweat was dripping down your back, his flip flopping about your death was doing a number on your nerves.
“Maybe it would be funny to surprise Geto with you. The great Prince of the Unseelie Court presented with a human,” Gojo said, tapping his chin. Your eyebrows hitched together – was he saying you’d be a gift?
“That would be entertaining. If he kills you or not, it will be interesting for me either way. Yes, I’m going to bring you back. I can always kill you later, but I can’t unkill you,” he said decisively, nodding to himself. You gulped – the way Prince Gojo was casually alluding to your demise was freaking you out. And you weren’t sure Prince Geto was going to be any better if he was friends with Gojo. He looked down at you expectantly.
“Now as I already said, we’re going. Up,” Prince Gojo ordered you, like a dog. You did not point out that he had laughed and he was going to kill you the previous time you thought you were going somewhere. You struggled to your knees and pushed yourself to stand. Your shoulder was radiating hot pain, making you grimace as you held the pulsing joint. Whatever had happened in the veil had seriously hurt you.
Prince Gojo did not wait for you any longer before he began walking off. You stumbled and ran to catch up to him, afraid to fall behind. His long legs carried him faster than your own could, even without the excruciating pain in your torso. You hoped the castle was nearby, because you weren’t going to make it far with this kind of pain.
“What’s wrong with you?” Prince Gojo asked, wrinkling his nose. “Why are you walking so strangely? Surely humans haven’t changed that much in recent years.”
“My shoulder’s messed up,” you said simply, tapping at the affected area. Prince Gojo stopped walking so suddenly that you nearly bumped into him. Some kind of barrier kept you from actually making contact with him, but you couldn’t see anything around him. Did the Fae have forcefields?
“Would you like for me to heal that for you?” Prince Gojo offered, pointing to your shoulder. You looked at him skeptically, but really, what other choices did you have? It was either Gojo or you spent however long until Prince Geto killed you grinding your teeth to keep from crying out.
“Yeah,” you agreed lamely. Prince Gojo smiled wickedly before he extended his hand towards you, and a powerful surge of energy engulfed your body. Within seconds, your shoulder was healed. You exhaled deeply, the aching pain no longer bothering you at all. You weren’t sure if the power was exclusive to Gojo or was available to all Fae, but you were thankful. Going from seriously injured to completely healed was a heady feeling, your life improving within seconds.
“Thank you so much, Prince Gojo,” you exclaimed, moving your arm in a circle to stretch it.
“You are welcome. And really, Prince Gojo is my title. If you ever need anything, you can call me Satoru.” You nodded, unsure what to do with this information. If he was royalty, wouldn’t you still need to call him by his title?
As your hand came up in front of your face, you noticed a shiny silver bracelet encircling your wrist. On the bracelet was a bright blue bead, almost glowing in the daylight. You definitely hadn’t been wearing this bracelet before now, did it come with being in the Fae realm?
“Where did this…what is this?” you asked, spinning the bead on the bracelet. The bead looked nearly identical to the little blue ball of magic he’d nearly ended your life with earlier. As you looked closer, you saw there were words inscribed on the outside in faint writing, but you couldn’t read what it said.
“I am feeling most kind today,” Prince Gojo began, his fingertips touching his chest with a flourish. “Not only did I spare your miserable life for the time being, but I gave you a physical reminder of the favor you owe me. Humans have weak memories, so I thought this would help. Do you like it?” he asked with a haughty look.
“I do like it, but...favor? What favor?” you asked incredulously. Another bead suddenly appeared next to the first one, the two clinking lightly together.
“Now it’s two favors. I healed your arm for you, and gave you the bracelet. Surely you wouldn’t take my kindness as benevolence? A favor comes at the price of another. And really, I could have had you for four by now, but like I said, I'm feeling kind,” he explained with a smirk on his face. Your face drained of color as you looked at your wrist.
“Thank you,” you said dryly, turning the bracelet over to see where the clasp was. There was none. Another new blue bead formed before your eyes as you finished speaking.
"Wh -- another favor? For what? I didn't -- you didn't -"
"You thanked me. Which means I did something worth thanking me for. In other words, a favor," he said smugly.
"B-but what do I owe you? I don't have anything on me," you said, now looking at the three glowing beads.
You sputtered but caught up, walking briskly alongside him. Prince Gojo’s long legs meant you were taking three steps for every one of his, scurrying after him like a mouse. He did not appear to be bothered by anything, his limbs loose and graceful as he walked along no discernible path. After some time, a large, white, stone castle appeared in the distance. It had turrets and towers and narrow windows and ivy growing on the sides and everything you imagined when you thought about castles.
“I’ll have you cleaned up, then we’ll find Geto. I would like to surprise him, but it can be challenging, even for me,” Prince Gojo informed you, like you were a stray cat he was bringing into the house. You inhaled sharply, but didn’t answer, afraid to incur another favor. Prince Gojo sighed.
“Oh, do calm down. If I wanted you dead, you would have been before you woke up. And the favors merely hang over your head, they don’t cause you harm directly. Relax, human,” Prince Gojo scoffed, not calling you by your nickname. You still weren’t going to tell him your name, but human wasn’t a great option either.
“I’m nervous. And pretty scared,” you replied, trying to share your true feelings. Maybe he’d feel pity for you and cut you some slack. Prince Gojo made a small noise of surprise as his smile returned.
“Honesty? In my court? That’s refreshing. And as for being nervous and scared – you should be.”
Gojo POV
What a funny turn of events. Gojo had the distinct feeling that something was off in his realm that morning, so he set off to find out what it was. It wasn’t like the feeling of a new powerful curse, or a new strong fae popping up to challenge him. No, this was something new. And something new meant Gojo was excited.
And Gojo loved excitement.
The court was almost always stale and boring, the elders interfering with what Gojo thought was right. There was always court drama, Fae falling in and out of favor, problems with the Unseelie, and of course the growing divide between himself and Geto. Gojo had tried to bridge it a few times, but something had shifted in Geto. They had been the first two Princes in eons to bridge the Seelie and Unseelie courts, but now things were going awry. There were whispers that it was never meant to be, that the Seelie and Unseelie could never mingle, but Gojo didn’t agree. Geto had been having a hard time since the Riko had died, but he could surely mend their relationship. Maybe bringing you in would open up some conversations. Or not and they’d kill you together.
He couldn’t believe that all the cursed energy shifting around was because of you. He nearly laughed when he found you in the forest, your little body curled in on itself like a sleepy cat. Instead of some powerful being he would have to fight, there was only a tiny human, sleeping without a care in the world.
He had circled you a bit before waking you, wanting to determine what he was dealing with. After all, the last human to come through the veil had caused many problems for him and Geto. But that was in the past, and you didn’t seem to be of the same caliber.
Gojo had looked you over carefully, noting your hair, body, and face. You were good looking in that way humans sometimes were – beautiful in a sort of grubby, mortal kind of way. Maybe you’d look better in clothes other than the ugly rags you wore and with the dirt washed off your body. He’d find out once he brought you back to the castle and had you attended to.
He really should have killed you. Humans weren’t allowed in the Fae realm, not without an express invitation from the Fae court. But Gojo just couldn’t bring himself to do it, not when you were sleeping. That would be so impolite, he would at least do you the courtesy of letting you know why he was killing you.
But he especially couldn’t kill you after you woke up and began interacting with him. It was mesmerizing watching your emotions flick across your face. When he had called you ugly, your little face soured like you’d eaten a lemonberry. When you were confused, your nose wrinkled and your brows hitched together. When he had revealed that he might kill you, your mouth hung open in a little o. It was adorable. You were so expressive, so unafraid to show your emotions on your face.
Gojo was so used to the politics of the Courts that he’d forgotten how amusing it was to deal with humans. Even now as he slowly walked with you back towards his castle, you were biting your lip in your nervousness. Gojo watched your breasts bounce gently in the shapeless shirt you wore as you walked hurriedly to match his slow pace. Yes, there was something beautiful in you, he just had to bring it out. Like cutting and polishing a rough stone into a gleaming gem.
And you were so easy to trick! Three favors owed and you’d barely known each other an hour. Really, he was almost embarrassed for you at how foolish you were with your words. But Gojo was never one to turn down favors. He didn’t even know what he would request of you – what could someone like him need from a human? – but he wanted them on his ledger all the same.
Besides, others at court would see your bracelet, which would give you some kind of protection. No one in the Seelie court would cause you terrible harm, but the Unseelie….it was best you wore something from himself to mark you as under his wing. Because, like it or not, you were now part of Gojo's court.
A/N:
This has been rattling around in my head for a while. Can't you just see Gojo as fae? The white hair, the sparkling eyes, the long ears, the penchant for mischief? Or Geto as a long haired, ethereally beautiful man in flowing fae robes? Tell me I'm not the only one.
For his character, he's starting much more teen Gojo than current Gojo. It will get smutty, but not in this chapter. It's not quite enemies to lovers, but something along those lines. And yes, she got taken, but that's part for the course in the Hannahverse. Everyone gets kidnapped, she's not special. Even so, this isn't Yan or all that dark so I didn't label it that way. Also, I'm not the biggest fantasy reader personally, so if I get some general Fae lore wrong, feel free to correct or kill me. I do know the Seelie and Unseelie don't get along but allow me this little dalliance so we can have Gojo and Geto after us....
