𝐔𝐦 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞?
That one self aware jjk post but with a twist?! A little silly idea I had, hope you guys enjoy it!
characters — Geto and Gojo (separately)
tw: Very much OOC, yandere (of course), self aware au, cult leader!geto, feral Gojo is the best flavor of Gojo, if I miss any warnings, please let me know! No beta, we die like Toji
taglist: @tremendousdinosaurpizza, @brontknee and @stargirl404
25... 26... 27... 28... 29...
The slow ascent of the elevator moves towards home, though, considering how still the compartment is, sometimes it feels like it's not moving at all. It's just you and the rising machine.
It's peaceful, in a way if you ignore the sinking dread that the elevator might drop at any moment.
Time in this confined space seems to move slow, agonizingly slow. You awkwardly fumble for your phone even though you're the only one in this elevator.
Your own face stares back on the cool glass–unruly hair, dark circles under your eyes like you fought your own schedule and lost. Fingers trailing down the edge of the smooth phone case–yet your fingers tighten ever so slightly. The plastic bag crinkles in your other hand.
There is a crack in the upmost right corner of the device.
You vaguely remember how it got that crack. It was another dull day, buzzing luminescence overhead, dust motes dancing lazily in your vision, flipping through stacks of manga or absentmindedly scrolling through your device. It was one of those days, where the boredom was stretched to it's absolute limit, like those filler episodes an anime would present that didn't connect to the storyline whatsoever.
The phone was angled standing near the cup so you can watch on another device, you were doing something on your computer. Maybe the music or the imagination your head was so good that you somehow managed to knock over your own drink–and your phone. Both went flying over the table and onto the floor.
The porcelain cup shattered on contact with the wooden floor, the liquid oozing from it's white cage while the phone tumbled down further away from you–it cracked from the impact. There was only one thin line trailing down from the upmost right corner.
Strange, you thought there will be more.
The elevator doors slides open with a hushed groan as you walk towards your apartment, shoes silent against the floor. You reach your door at the end of the corridor, hands already diving into your pockets searching for your keys.
The sliver glint of the key slid into the keyhole, turning multiple times until a faint click! can be heard from within. Your hands landed on the handle, and with the creak of the hinges, you gently push the door open...
You barely even opened the door as the sharp stench of copper hits like a slap to the face. You recoil slightly, instinctively taking a step back. What the hell happened here? Your mind reels, trying to remember before you left the apartment.
Your hand twitches slightly, as if protesting against you to investigate further. You push the door further in anyway.
The apartment was dark, too dark. Like there was something prowling in the void where the living room was supposed to be. Sweat beads trail down your forehead as you take one, hesitant step towards the darkness. Your legs were already shaking.
Two orbs of cerulean stare back, bright enough to pierce the darkness of your apartment. Your hands shakily searched for the light switch. By the time you switch on the lights, the sight makes your breath hitch.
Him. A man in black clothes, blindfold pulled down. Six foot three inches of 'Oh god he's hot' stood in the center of the room. White hair like clouds ruffled and unruly sat on top his head as he stares you down like a predator sizing up prey. And his eyes–god–his eyes were like the sky itself. Big, bright and blue. It felt like Six Eyes judging your very soul itself and suddenly, the room felt suddenly smaller.
Being severely uncomfortable by the staring contest between you and the man, your eyes wander down to his hands and you wished you didn't. There was blood on his knuckles (probably his.. you hope), and it's still dripping down into the floor with a wet plink plink that echoed in the room.
No one moved, the air itself seemed to hold it's breath until the white-haired man smiled. A twisted smile appeared on his face that unnerved you even more. "You..." He breathed. "It's you."
Your mouth opens, and closes. Dumbfounded, you had nothing to say–metaphorically and literally–the words stuck in your throat as you tried to make sense of the situation. Why is there a man in your home? And more specifically, why the hell does he look like.. Satoru Gojo?
"Uh," the word slips from your tongue, do you really have anything to say about this? You can't even form rational sentences. The man steps forward, reaching for you with his bleeding hands. Alarms finally blare in your head as your feet try to pivot back to the door. But Satoru was faster.
In a heartbeat, he traps you in between himself and the door-when did the door close??-towering over you like a silent monolith. The close proximity made your lungs constrict. You can practically feel the warmth of his breath. Satoru just stares at you, unblinking. Azure eyes filled with... longing?
"It's really you." The back of his hand meets your face. "Your skin is warm. Soft." Now that he mentioned it. His skin does feel unnervingly cold, like metal.
"Can I-" The words abruptly cut off as he plucks the plastic bag from your grip with startling gentleness and threw it onto the table.
"Nope!" And he's back to his normal self. Satoru plops himself on the couch, sinking slightly under his weight as he pats the empty space beside it. "Come! I wanna tell everyone I'm still alive! The recent chapters were lying."
The lights were already on when you opened the door. You sucked in a shaky breath. I left the lights on? should've been the first, logical thought that appeared in your brain.
You gently nudged the door with the tip of your shoes, creaking wider. Maybe this was just some mistake. Some simple miscalculation when you left your home in a hurry. Then, it would all be forgotten in the endless days of sleep, eat and anime marathons.
The living room was still messy where you once left it. The couch full of unkept blankets and pillows, the TV still on-still paused on a video you were watching a few hours earlier and the instant ramen on the coffee table was probably cold by now. But, something was definitely off. Like something darker that you don't want to say out loud.
But there was something darker afoot.
Something skittered in the stretched shadows under furniture, quick and fleeting. You dont investigate, your legs still locked in place as your eyes quickly land on a person on the other side of the room.
A man in monk robes is sitting on your sofa. And oh, he was the most beautiful man you ever set your eyes on. Long, black hair like spilled ink flowed on his shoulders, purple eyes crinkling into narrow slits as he tilted his head upwards to face you. His lips curve into a pleasant smile that didn't reach his eyes as he stood up with a rush of meeting an old-time friend. It looked like he was expecting you, and he probably was.
"Hey." He announced with that tilt of the head, eyes curving into familiar crescents you've only seen on the anime. Geto Suguru, you realized. "I've been waiting." The man said it so casually as if greeting a friend.
"You... were?" You were abruptly taken aback by how nice he is treating you, considering his.. behavior towards non-sorcerers. You took a risk. "How long?"
"A while." Suguru didnt explain further, his eyes dropped to the plastic bag clenched in your hand. "You took your time."
"Uh.. It's just snacks.." Trying casual conversation with a literal anime character is harder than it looks.
"You've been tense since you came in." Suguru seems to loom over you, you've haven't noticed that he moved a little too close for comfort. "I assume you can see the curses, right?" As if to prove his point, a wriggling centipede thing skittered between legs. You stiffen, and Suguru's smile widened at the reaction.
Something like satisfaction plastered itself on the monk's face. "I always wondered if your kind still saw curses even behind a screen, unlike those monkeys." Outright scorn flashed for a split second, before it smoothed back to calm nonchalance. "You always fascinate me, dear watcher, I believe we would enjoy each other's company from now on."
a/n: hi guys, sorry for the late post. I hope you enjoy! Very rushed because ain’t no way this took months to finish this.
©twisted-lunae™ 2026 | please do not copy/translate my work without my permission. Likes and reblogs are appreciated! xoxo lover boy.
