#Jujutsu Kaisen Sukuna

[lexiene]

Watching you eat bc your preggy with his babies~

[nanaslutt]

asking them for happy trail pics

ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, higuruma, shiu, ino

ʚ incl: smut, fluff, crack

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

[faintrustle]

King SUKUNA and his cute ribbon

[bratbby333]

rough game...c'mere, brat — ryomen sukuna

𓆩♱𓆪 synopsis gamer!bf sukuna loses his game. while he's taking his anger out on you, he goes a little too far. 𓆩♱𓆪 word count 2k 𓆩♱𓆪 cw established relationship, language, choking, use of safe word, rough sex, hints of cnc, degradation, cervix fucking, smut/angst/comfort 𓆩♱𓆪 an from an anon request! sorry it took so long my love...thank you for being patient with me xx not beta read!

nsfw 𓆩♡𓆪 mdni

“Fuck this dumbass shit,” a grating voice broke through your peaceful silence. The clattering sound of a discarded headset and the angry glide of a chair echoed through the hallway, making your shoulders tense. Not even a minute later, Sukuna’s heavy footsteps stomped toward the room, shoving the door open. 

“Rough game?” you inquired, your eyes still focused on your reading. He took quick strides toward you, scowling as he tore your book from your hands. Before you could reprimand him for interrupting your quiet time and discarding your book so haphazardly, his hands were anchored under your armpits and pulling you from your chair. He tossed you onto the bed, your body bouncing against the mattress. Not a single word was exchanged as he clambered on after you, but his hungered eyes scaling up and down your body told you everything you needed to know. 

Shock reverberated through your body at how quickly this was unfolding, but the aggressiveness of his actions paired with the animalistic look on his face sent pangs of desire through your core. It was typical for Sukuna to be irritated after a particularly infuriating game, but not like this. Anticipation swirled through your stomach, excited for what was to come. He fucked you so good when he was pissed.

His hands clawed across your body as he tore your clothes away, his feverish kisses turned into battling tongues and clashing teeth as he leaned over you. He ran two digits between your slit before spitting a fat glob of saliva onto your cunt, thumbing at it as he licked the palm of his free hand, wrapping it around his length. He jerked himself off as he pumped into you, his thick fingers dragging against your g-spot with every plunge. His tongue darted from between his lips, the muscle lapping hungrily at your nipple, sucking harshly before latching on, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub. Your back arched toward him, fully immersed in the shockwaves of desire that coursed through you. With a couple rough rubs of his shaft against your clit, he was sinking deep inside you, bottoming out immediately. 

You had seen him get like this on multiple occasions– he got riled up pretty easily when it came to his games. The fact that you got any sort of foreplay before the main event was a shock to you as his hips rutted against you. But even then, it still wasn’t enough to prepare you for what was in store. Sukuna gave you no time to adjust to his pace as he pummeled your pretty pussy. His thick cock tugged in and out, the less than optimal amount of lubrication making the stretch of his girth borderline unpleasant. But the sensation of his head rubbing against your sweet spot made your tummy churn with lust, your arousal flooding through you, dampening your cunt after a few of his mean strokes. 

He felt your walls flutter around him in an attempt to adjust to the abruptness of his intrusion. He stared down at where your bodies met as he bullied himself deeper, your face twisted as you worked to accommodate him. Small whimpers left your lips as he fucked into you, every brutal rock of his pelvis made the head of his cock carress you in just the right way. Sukuna loved when you struggled to take all of him. Even with the work he did to open you up with his fingers, he knew it wasn’t enough to get you good and ready. But he was hungry, starved even, frustration ripping through him, his carnal urges taking over. This wasn’t enough for him tonight. He needed an outlet to channel his anger into…he needed to break you. 

A dark growl emanated from his sternum as he repositioned, pressing your legs toward your chest. You had just barely gotten used to him before the new angle pushed his cock way deeper than your body wanted to allow, and so soon at that. Something was off today. Your eyes frantically darted across his face as his vicious thrusts began to slam into your womb. Sukuna’s dark, demented expression was bone-chilling. And then it clicked. He didn’t care if it felt good…he was happier when it didn’t, when he was the only one getting off. His ego had taken over. He wanted it to hurt, wanted to take all the rage he felt out on you. And that scared the shit out of you.

"Ahh!...'K-kuna...Sukuna!" you yelped, your palms pressed into his abdomen as his hips ruthlessly slammed into you. His hands pushed into the back of your thighs, your legs shaking from the deep stretch. The thick head of his cock brushed meanly against your cervix with every thrust. 

"Yeah, brat...take that shit, say my fuckin' name," he growled, pressing your legs deeper. One of his hands was planted by the side of your head, the other wrapped around your throat while he leaned his full body weight against the back of your legs, folding you into yourself, the pressure against your ribs coupled with his bruising grip around your windpipe labored your breathing, making your head spin.

"I...can't....h-hurts," you rasped, your voice a broken whisper as his fingers dug even deeper into the sides of your neck. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, slamming himself against you with hungered rage. 

He was so caught up in his own bliss, ignoring your mumbled pleas for relief as he bulldozed into you. He didn’t care. The sadistic chuckle that broke through his chest solidified that fact. His eyes were dark, his brows furrowed deep. He was lost in the sloppy sounds of your pussy sucking him in, spurred on by the whines that seeped through your constricted windpipe as he slammed into the soft wall at the back of your cunt. The rough huffs of your breathing and your fragmented whimpers got him off even more.

“Su..kuna,” you stammered, your words caught in your lungs. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, attempting to pull his fist away, but he wouldn't budge.

You were dazed, your eyes watering from the ache between your legs as you slapped his arm, "W-wait–ahh!– shit…’s too mu..ch." You wedged your arm between the two of you, rubbing quick circles against your clit in hopes to alleviate the burn. 

But his pace was unwavering and your body couldn’t adjust. His eyes were locked on yours, a demented grin on his face as waves of fear raked through your body…an unvoiced message ringing clear between the two of you: He heard you, but he’s not stopping.

He dipped down to suck harshly at the sweet flesh behind your ear, biting at the sensitive skin. “Stay still n take it, brat…let me have this.” His words echoed in your head as he leaned back, straightening the arm that was anchored around your throat as he mercilessly rutted into you, every smack shooting both pain and pleasure through your trembling frame.

The rough plunges of his cock iinn and ooutt of your sticky walls burned so beautifully. As much as you wanted to surrender to the waves of arousal that were threatening your floodgate, it was too much. The discomfort outweighed the enjoyment. Not this time. It was all too much.

“Fu..ck,” you squeaked, your throat raw and face flushed as anxiety gnawed at your spine. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your vision going dark. “R-red,” was all you could manage through the tightness of your throat. Your eyes glazed over, stars visible behind your heavy lids from your depleting supply of oxygen. Your trembling hands clawed up and down his forearms in hopes he’d hear you. But he didn’t. His rhythm persisted, the vulgar sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass drowned out your desperate pleas. He was splitting you in half, every rut of his hips sending you closer to your breaking point.

“Ple..ase–unghh…can’t,” tears welled in your eyes as Sukuna smiled down at you. “Too much, huh? Can’t take me like ya used to?” His jaw was tight as he taunted you, his grip around your neck tightening even more as he jostled your head around. Your fearful eyes flipped a switch in his brain as he pulled out and shoved all the way back in, delighted with the way your writhing body attempted to get away from him. His brow arched with amusement as he watched your face contort. This was a game for him. He was getting off on toying with you. A broken scream cut through your lungs while you gasped for air, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Red–fu..uck!–RED!” A perplexed look painted your boyfriend’s face before realization set in. You gasped as his grip loosened and his hips stilled against you. A lingering hint of disappointment flashed through his eyes as he pulled out, pushing himself off you to allow your legs to fall against the bed. You wheezed and coughed, the pulsing ache in your abdomen fully setting in as you worked to regain your composure. 

"You don't have to take this shit out on me all the time, 'Kuna!" You swiped away the spit that was dribbling from the corner of your mouth. "You were too rough this time."

"You've never complained about it before," he huffed with a roll of his eyes, his ignorance sending pangs of anger through your body.

"Can you take me seriously for once in your life? You hurt me, Sukuna." You muscled your body away from him, propping yourself up against the headboard. He stood, circling around to you before taking a seat next to you. You avoided his gaze, your stomach churning and head buzzing while you worked to quell your fear.

He watched as your chest heaved, eyes brimming with tears as you massaged your neck, your body twitching from the throbbing pulse in your abdomen while irritation prickled under your skin at his obvious indifference. Sukuna dipped down fast, catching your fallen tears on his tongue, a smug grin on his face as he pulled your hands away from your throat, holding them against his chest. A groan escaped him at the sight of the purple bruises in the shape of his fingertips decorating the delicate flesh of your throat, the look of your fucked out disposition turning him on once more. “I’ll be gentle…if you wanna try again,” he suggested, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Sukuna,” you warned, shooting daggers toward your pink haired boyfriend. “I’m being serious. It really hurt,” you whined. Your face contorted at his lack of compassion as you rubbed away the trail of spit he had left on your face, but you weren’t surprised in the slightest. He huffed before shifting closer to you. A heavy silence settled in the room as your breathing began to return to normal. 

"I...'m sorry," he grumbled, unsure of how to comfort you. It was the first time you’d ever used your safeword. His face was neutral, but confusion flooded his mind, knowing for certain that he’d been far rougher than that in the past. He thumbed the back of your hands before placing a kiss on each one. “I didn’t mean to hurt you… that bad,” he glanced at your face to make sure that comment didn’t upset you. “I thought you were enjoying it, didn’t know that when you said it hurt you actually meant it.” 

Your head shook side to side. To be fair, you usually said things like that to boost his ego, especially after he lost a game. The dirty talk exchanged between the two of you during one of your sessions was definitely…specific–not for the faint of heart. You sighed deeply as you worked to calm your nerves, the pain in your core subsiding. It was an honest misunderstanding. You couldn’t stay mad at him for long, either. 

“It’s okay,” you conceded, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on his cheek, before pulling back, a coy smile on your face as you looked up at him. “Just listen to me next time, will ya?” A raspy “mhmm” vibrated through his chest as you curled your body against his. 

“Give me 20 and we can try again…but go easy on me.”

“No promises, doll.”

“Sukuna…”

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚

an took a break from my gamer!bf sukuna series n i forgot how much i enjoyed writing for him. sending a big thank you to the anon who requested this...i hope you enjoy my love.

also!! i'm almost at 500 followers??? thank you guys so much for your support on my writing...i literally cannot believe it! i love y'all sm xx

tag list @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @youliveincassisworld

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[pinknipszz]

heian era sukuna

(a/n: takes place in the same universe as this post; yet another thinly veiled uraume/reader imagine)

on the first day of spring—your favorite of all seasons—you awake to a pleasant surprise in the horigotatsu of your room: a big basket of flowers, all fresh and neatly trimmed. you struggle to swallow the squeal that’s bubbling in your throat. 

when uraume comes to style your hair (a morning habit of theirs), they find you cradling it close to your chest as you would a baby. “come and look at what my husband left me,” you say, beckoning them over with a flick of your wrist. they settle their boxwood comb on the edge of your vanity and approach to take hold of your basket.

they squint, turning it this way and that (for a little longer than necessary, just to humor you), before nodding firmly in approval. “the flowers are beautiful this year,” they say. “as expected of lord sukuna.” your face beams with delight, like a rose in full bloom, as you stroke each petal with delicate fingers. 

with infectious charm, you swoon, “he gives me the prettiest flowers!” in between your sweet babbles, uraume ushers you to sit near the vanity so they can detangle any knots that accumulated overnight. as they brush through your hair, they remain silent, but you know that these things will eventually reach your husband.

for now, though, they focus on the task at hand. you like it when uraume fixes your hair. there’s a kindness in their movements that’s nearly unbefitting of their disposition, warm enough to melt any leftover frost. it almost reminds you of spring. perhaps the resemblance is why he orders them to keep you company.

with cherry dusted cheeks, you look down at the arrangement in your arms. there’s simply no other answer. no room for doubt in your husband’s impeccable judgment. for a creature living by a standard so unattainable to any man, there’s something so achingly mortal in the way that love oozes from every crack in his soul.

uraume is like the flowers that he leaves on the first day of spring, except they last for eternity.

(masterlist) | (a/n: third part might actually have sukuna dialogue w talks of pregnancy bc i want to try a thing)

[thecuriousquest]

The King of Curses and His Concubine

Trigger Warning: NSFW, heavy yandere themes, dominant behavior, ass play, spitting kink, ass fucking, dub con, concubine, mentions of murder, psychological control

@murderofravens

Master List

—————————————————————————

Sukuna pulls you over his knee. You think you’re about to get a spanking. You don’t necessarily like it when he does punish you in this way, especially since you haven’t done anything to deserve it. However, you’re more than surprised when he grabs the fat of your cheeks and pulls them apart. His gaze lingers on your fluttering hole. You can’t see the smile on his face, the predatory smirk full of sadistic satisfaction. Even more, you can feel his hard cock poking your stomach as you lay bent over his lap.

You hear him swirling something in his mouth, can tell his tongue is moving with the motion, amplifying the sound. You look over your shoulder just in time to see his mouth form the shape of an O. You watch the saliva shoot forth from his lips as it coats your asshole, seeping into it slowly.

The lines on his face contort into a feral and sloppy grin as he plunges two fingers deep inside of you. In and out. In and out. Fast, then slow. Fast again, slow again, faster and faster as he targets your sensitive walls. He spreads his fingers in the shape of a V while keeping them inserted inside of you.

Oh, you’re a writhing mess over his lap. You can’t stand it. His beefy fingers, his strong hand pumping between your cheeks. You were scared at first, but now you’re about to come repeatedly.

And you do. You orgasm on his lap over and over again. He is completely taking control of your overstimulation, not even giving you an inch of room to plead for anything. Even if you could talk, which he took great measures to get you to a point of brain fog, you wouldn’t ask for him to stop.

Incoherent babbling is all you’re capable of now as your tongue hangs out of your mouth while you go limp over his sturdy thigh. You come one last time, all nice and sloppily wet for him, drool and tears of pleasure pooling and mixing together on the wooden floor beneath you.

With two of his four arms, he picks you up. Your body moving with his will as you’re too exhausted to resist. You’re so docile, so compliant, such a good girl. He moves you on his lap, your back to his chest. Sukuna uses his other two hands to spread your thighs widely. His hard cock lines up with the edge of your asshole, nestled nicely between your cheeks. His spit and pre acting as a lubricant.

Sukuna pushes your body down roughly, and you cry out. You don’t even have to do any work. He enjoys bouncing your body on his cock. You’re all under his control. You just have to comply and try not to move as much as possible. Like a large train trying to fit through a small tunnel, his cock fills you up completely. You look down and watch as Sukuna brings the hand that was holding your left thigh up to your puffy little clit.

You can’t help but let your head fall back against his shoulder. He’s pushing you into yet another orgasm. You can feel it as the rough pad of his large pointer and middle finger circle and swirl on the little button of nerves.

“Good whores deserve all sorts of rewards, my cock being one of them,” he whispers in your ear, his voice sultry and powerful, even the softness in which he speaks right now is still filled with authority.

“M…m…mas…ter!”

“You can’t even say it. Pathetic. You really are just a sloppy, submissive little slut. It’s a good thing you’re pretty, because you really don’t have much in that head of yours.”

He laughs as he induces another orgasm while he pumps your ass with his thick and veiny erection.

You feel him fill you up, and as goes flaccid, he decides to hold you closely; two arms wrapped beneath your breasts, and two arms hugging your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder while you lean back against him, panting and sweaty, thoroughly exhausted.

“You really are the best one out of all of them. Maybe, I should kill the others and just have you,” he says more to himself as he brushes your nipple with his thumb.

You hear him, but you don’t dare say anything. Sukuna has always been kinder to you because you are his favorite concubine, but he is still a cruel master. You always keep this in mind, never letting your guard down around him just because he can be so fickle.

“Would you like that, Y/N? Would that please you?”

You only let the silence hang between you two as you formulate the correct response.

“If it makes you happy, Master…then it makes me happy as well.”

And if you are responsible for the death of those twenty-five girls, then so be it. You know better than to give any other kind of response to Sukuna by now. By the many, many excruciating lessons he has taught you before, you damn well know better by now…

[damnatiomemoriae13]

just a quick sketch based on that one twt about combining all the Sukuna forms and calling it god of the verse, pls forgive that ugly ass wheel lmao

[mononijikayu]

night we met — ryomen sukuna.

Feeling the gravity of this moment, he tightened his grip on your hand. You looked down at him and smiled—a gesture that sealed his newfound faith in this bond. At that moment, Ryomen Sukuna felt as though he had been reborn. No longer just a boy lost in the festival's chaos, but a person with a role, a duty, and a place in the world. His life, from that moment forward, was to be lived for you, in devotion to the path you would guide him on. You had become his guardian, his mentor—his goddess—and he, in turn, devoted himself to be your loyal follower.

GENRE: Heian Era to Cursed Womb Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining;

masterlist

listen: the night we met by lord huron

note: i finally got a break after two exams. i still have one more. but i wanted to pop in and give this to you before i disappear into my books again. i hope you enjoy this little thing~ i love you~

FATHER THOUGHT THAT THERE WOULD BE MORE NEED FOR RETAINERS TO COME WITH THEM. As they navigated the bustling streets of the city, Ryomen Hiromi couldn't shake off a palpable sense of tension, despite the festive atmosphere. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated the cobblestone paths, and the air was filled with lively chatter and laughter. Yet, an underlying unease lingered—perhaps a whisper from the gods, you mused, familiar with the capricious nature of the divine. Your lips tightened into a straight line, your hand unconsciously drifting to the hilt of your sword. Beneath the surface festivity, an undercurrent of anxiety was palpable.

This might explain why your father had insisted on bringing as many men as possible. The Ryomen family was never short of loyal retainers, and Masaomi had been eager to accompany you. Your father's protective instincts weighed heavily on you, his warnings echoing in your mind. As the sole remaining heir of your distinguished family, his concerns were magnified by the elders’ incessant uproar. Though you understood the necessity of your high profile, it sometimes felt stifling.

As you continued through the lively streets, the festival's atmosphere was electrifying. Lanterns hung from every post, casting dancing lights over the faces of the revelers, each absorbed in their own joyous celebration. The air was thick with the scents of street food and a cacophony of laughter and music, creating a chaotic symphony. Yet, despite the jovial chaos, a tug of unease pulled at your consciousness.

You maintained an even pace and a neutral expression, blending seamlessly into the crowd. The presence of your uncle Hiramu was reassuring; his experienced hand rested nonchalantly on his sword, his eyes scanning the crowd with practiced vigilance. His readiness to protect offered comfort and a reminder of the ever-present potential for danger.

Ryomen Hiromi experienced the weight of the festival differently. While others were drawn into the spirit of celebration, your senses were heightened, alert to any discord. The subtle narrowing of your eyes and the stiffness in your shoulders might go unnoticed by an ordinary onlooker, but they were clear indicators of your tension. The flickering shadows cast by the lantern lights seemed to hide potential threats, and every burst of laughter could be masking whispered conspiracies.

You knew you couldn't afford to let down your guard, not when the stakes were so high. This mission was critical, especially to you, marking a step towards your heir’s role, and the weight of this responsibility was heavy on your shoulders. The festival, with its mask of tradition and celebration, might well be a veneer for more sinister undertones.

Navigating through this sea of faces, your gaze occasionally met those of strangers, your deep hazel eyes searching for any hint of recognition or malice. Being with your uncle Hiramu brought some peace, tempering the anxiety that gnawed at your heart, but the persistent unease remained. Something was amiss, and you could not yet pinpoint it. Your instincts screamed for attention, urging vigilance as the night promised to stretch long.

Reports of strange occurrences and unexplained events had been increasing, stirring unrest among the populace and reaching the ears of Lord Isamu. Typically, such critical missions would fall to your elder brother, Akimu, the designated heir tasked with maintaining the safety and stability of Hida's heartland in your father's stead. But now, with Akimu unable to lead, the weight of responsibility had shifted onto your capable yet burdened shoulders.

Each step felt heavy under the scrutinizing gaze of the moon, illuminating the bustling night with a mocking smile. You took a moment to gather your scattered thoughts, steadying the swirling emotions within. As you lifted your gaze, your eyes began to sharpen, honing in on the play of shadows cast by the lantern light, looking beyond the immediate spectacle to the hidden corners and fleeting movements that might betray underlying threats.

This mission was about more than following in Akimu's footsteps; it was about proving that Ryomen Hiromi could stand firm on uneven, unfamiliar ground. You were determined to command respect, to show that despite your gender, you were every bit the Ryomen heir as any man could be.

As you moved away from the main festivities into quieter, dimly lit parts of the town, Uncle Hiramu finally spoke, his voice low and serious, “Little niece, do you sense it too? There’s a heaviness in the air tonight. It must be what your father was speaking of.”

You nodded, your sharp gaze scanning the shadows. “Yes, I feel it. It's as if the air itself is thick with whispers of the past. There’s a disturbance, not just a vengeful spirit, I think. Something older, deeper.”

Hiramu’s eyes narrowed as he looked ahead. “We should be cautious. These kinds of spirits are often bound to old grudges or unresolved tragedies. The festival’s energy could stir it more than usual.”

You turned into a less crowded alley, where the noise of the festival faded into a distant hum. Your elegant robes brushed against the cobblestones, your attire blending traditional beauty with practicality. The layered silk of your fine kimono was dyed in deep blues and purples, embroidered with silver threads that caught the light, mimicking the night sky. Your obi was tightly cinched, supporting the small dagger hidden within—a necessity for any noble venturing into uncertain situations.

Your father insisted that you dress appropriately. It was outlandish, you supposed. The choices were far too simple for taste, unsuitable for any young beauty of such noble stock. But this was as comfortable as it was safe. Pretense of trade being your desire here in these parts, was much easier than to be quite obvious. Anything more than this would have attracted as much attention as retainers.

“Do you think it’s tied to a particular location or event?” you asked, your voice steady despite the creeping chill that seemed to cling to the edges of the night air. “It’s getting me curious…”

“It could be,” Hiramu replied, his hand never straying far from his sword. “These spiteful little cursed spirits often attach themselves to physical locations where significant emotional events occurred. We’ll need to explore the some sites around here—old battlefields, abandoned shrines, places of great loss or betrayal. Someone is deeply angry, little niece."

Your mind raced, piecing together knowledge with the clues of your current environment. “There’s an old well not far from here, sealed up after a great tragedy struck a hundred years ago during a similar festival. A fire had broken out, and many lives were lost. It was said that the well was cursed thereafter.”

Hiramu’s gaze sharpened, his lips just as sharp when he smiled. “That’s a good place to start. Lead the way, little niece.”

IT HAD TAKEN SOME TIME TO FIND THE CURSED SPIRIT. As the moon ascended, bathing the lively festival in its serene, silver luminescence, you and Uncle Hiramu pressed on with your diligent investigation. The festive air, alive with the thrum of activity and the laughter of revelers, contrasted sharply with your growing tension. Underneath the celestial glow, the reality of your mission slowly began to crystallize, taking on a new urgency as unexpected developments unfolded. It had begun with something ever so simple and from there, unpredictable fate intervened and soon enough, the chaos ensued.

The moment of realization struck you with unsettling suddenness. You patted down the side. There was nothing but panic as you looked to the side of the obi and found nothing. One look was enough to confirm that eager suspicion: the coin purse was missing. You looked up towards Uncle Hiramu. You knew that he was trying not to laugh, but his eyes were too obvious. You smacked your uncle which prompted the laugh to bellow from his belly. All you could do was mope in the silence. You supposed that it was alright. Money was not a big deal. But… your eyes widened.

Without hesitating, your eyes swept across the sea of faces swirling around you. The atmosphere was charged with the festival’s energy, yet your focus was razor-sharp. It was then that you had spotted a distinct splash of color that stood out against the earthy tones of the crowd—a young boy with striking pink hair, weaving through the crowd with the agility and desperation of someone fleeing. You looked at Hiramu, and he nodded back at you.

It was then where your instincts kicked in. You tapped your uncle's arm and started mouthing instructions as subtly as one could towards the fleeing figure. Without needing further explanation, Hiramu caught the urgency and nodded. Hiramu took the other direction as you turned to the other.

As you navigated through the dense crowd, the distance between you and the boy closed gradually, you were certain of it. You could sense Hiramu’s cursed energy with each step below against the wide battered ground. You were certain that you were ever so close to bringing a close to the night. But first, you must unravel the night's mysteries. That boy was the key.

Ryomen Hiramu wasted no time as he dashed from stall to stall, street to street. He could feel it, he could feel it too well. That overwhelming power. His seasoned body kicked into high gear, and he swiftly maneuvered through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the pink-haired boy darting through the festival, speeding through the brunt of human bodies. Hiramu cursed under his breath. The child was too clever. With each step, Hiramu's determination as he ran through a corridor of small houses clamped together—one of the poorest sects of life in the quaint area.

As he closed the gap between them, Hiramu noticed an unusual, dark shimmer around the boy—an ominous aura that seemed almost palpable in the moonlit night. This was no mere act of theft; it was clear there was something far more sinister at play. The aura surrounding the boy twisted and writhed like a living thing, a visual manifestation of deep-seated emotional turmoil. It became apparent that this child was not acting alone; he was bound to a cursed spirit, a malevolent force likely fueled by intense feelings of anger, fear, and loneliness.

The realization struck Hiramu with a harsh chill. The spirit's presence suggested that the boy's actions were not entirely his own, that he was under the influence of these dark energies that fed on negative emotions. Such spirits were known to attach themselves to vulnerable souls, magnifying their darkest thoughts and driving them to act in ways they might not otherwise, turning their inner turmoil into outward chaos. Just as he drew his sword, you turned from the corner. Ryomen Hiromi threw that heavy bound haori away, looking at Hiramu.

“Shibaru One! Binding Fate!” you exclaimed, your voice clear and commanding as streaks of luminous energy surged towards the boy. He let out a sharp cry, writhing against the ethereal chains that now ensnared him under your control.

“Be careful!” Hiramu cautioned, moving closer to assist. “He's the source, he's entwined with that cursed spirit!”

You nodded, your focus undeterred by the boy's struggles as you tightened your grip on the energy that bound him. The spectral chains glowed brighter, each pulse of light strengthening the hold over the chaotic spirit within him. Your uncle's warning echoed in your mind, reinforcing your burning resolve to act with both precision and caution.

The boy’s eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and confusion, met yours. You could see the turmoil swirling within him, the innocent caught in the grip of something far beyond his control. “Hold on, just a little longer,” you murmured, your voice a blend of firmness and reassurance intended to pierce through the haze of his panic. A faint smile blossomed from your lips. “Trust me, okay?”

Hiramu understood the gravity of the situation—they were dealing with a phenomenon that was both a danger to the boy and to all those attending the festival. The cursed spirit needed to be dealt with delicately and decisively, for the safety of the boy and the peace of the community. There were too many people here that would not understand what was going on.

There was no need to make a bigger ruckus. With this understanding, Ryomen Hiramu pressed on, his resolve hardened, knowing that he and you must act swiftly to intervene and dispel the darkness that had taken hold of the young boy.

As Hiramu closed in, the cursed spirit sensed the threat and began to lash out, manifesting as tendrils of dark energy. You, realizing the severity of the situation, knew immediate action was required. "Start the purification ritual!" Hiramu shouted over his shoulder as he dodged a swipe from the spirit. "I'll hold it off! Just go and do your job!”

You crossed the tips of your fingers, your eyes narrowing deeper into the soul of the boy. You began to chant softly, the words of an ancient purification rite falling rhythmically from your lips. The boy looked frightened by all means, as the white light did what it could, purging one dark fabric from the boy one after the other.

The air around you seemed to hum with power as your words wove through the currents of energy emanating from your firm hands. The glowing chains tightened further, and the dark aura around the boy began to dissipate, sucked away into the void created by your spell. But as with all things, it tried to keep alive.

Meanwhile, Hiramu engaged the spirit, his sword movements precise, each strike intended not to harm the boy but to distract the spirit and weaken its hold. The sound of the boy’s screams pierced through over and over again, the cursed spirit overlaying against each agonizing echo. He could see the ritual's glow intensifying, the light beginning to engulf the boy, binding and suppressing the dark energy around him.

With a final, desperate cry, the cursed spirit dissipated, expelled in one painful grip. All of a sudden, your white cursed energy also disappeared. You gasped out loud as your shaking knees fell to the ground, weary from it all. It was the first time you had used that purification technique. But it seemed that it had finally worked. You looked at the empty depth of your palm.

As the ritual reached its climax, your voice rose in a powerful cadence, your tender hands outstretched towards the boy, directing the flow of purified energy. The cursed spirit writhed and howled and fought over and over, its form becoming unstable under the ritual’s influence. Sweat permeated through your sleeves, your teeth gritted, your eyes narrowed, over and over the ringing of each of your ears continued as the boy continued to fight for his life.

Your eyes shined. You had done that. Hiramu looked at you, rushing towards you. But you stopped him, coughing as you regained air. You pointed to the boy, sprawled on the pavement. Hiramu sheathed his sword back. Soon enough, Hiramu could only lift the boy in his arms.

The boy, now freed from the spirit’s grasp, collapsed, exhausted but unharmed. He was perhaps trying to catch his breath. He must have been exhausted. You, having returned to the plane of reality, rushed to his side, your own energy spent. You were certain that there was no bigger word than relief as you eagerly confirmed that he was safe. His eyes were both soft and weary as he looked at that boy. He lifted his head at you.

Hiramu's eyes remained narrowed, the wrinkles at the corners deepening as he surveyed the scene before him. Despite the successful expulsion of the spirit, his instincts told him there was more to uncover. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight that drew your attention immediately. "Something is still not right," he said, his tone heavy with unease.

You nodded, understanding the depth of your uncle's concern. You gently placed your palm on the boy's forehead, feeling the residual heat of the ritual. "He's warm, uncle," you observed as your voice echoed tinged with worry.

"Purification techniques are painful to the body," Hiramu responded, his voice a low hum, soothing yet solemn. "It’s purging the worst of the soul, after all. Still, it must be said. You did well, little niece."

The corners of your mouth twitched into a slight smile, a rare break in your usually stern demeanor. "Such praise is rare, uncle."

Hiramu let out a soft snicker, his usual stern facade momentarily giving way to familial warmth. "I compliment you all the time," he claimed, though his smile betrayed the playfulness of his exaggeration.

"That sounds like a lie, uncle," you retorted, your weary eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection.

"Yeah, yeah," Hiramu dismissed playfully, but his attention quickly returned to the matter at hand as the boy began to stir. You blinked, taken aback by the sudden movement. You had been so focused on your exchange that the boy's awakening caught you momentarily off guard.

"What do you intend to do with this boy, niece?" Hiramu asked, his tone shifting back to the gravity of your situation. His question hung in the air, pressing you for a decision, reminding you of your responsibilities. “You’re the only one who can decide the lad’s fate.”

“Uncle—”

“You are my better, even if I am your elder and uncle.” Hiramu added, watching you become flustered as he watched the young lady shift in her position. “What do you think is right?”

You took a deep breath, your gaze shifting from Hiramu to the boy who was slowly regaining consciousness. You could see the confusion and fear flicker across his young face as he came to grips with his surroundings. He seemed disoriented, his eyes darting around, trying to make sense of what had happened to him.

Your voice rang out with a firm resolve, words carrying an air of unwavering determination. You met the older man’s gaze with a steady intensity, your expression betraying no hint of doubt. 

"We'll bring him back with us to the manor," you declared, leaving no room for argument. "I'll send word ahead to let them know."

Hiramu's response was laced with a sense of foreboding. "They won't like this," he cautioned, his words heavy with the weight of tradition and expectation. You understood exactly what he meant—the elders, with their adherence to protocol and rigid adherence to tradition, were unlikely to approve of your deviation from established norms. But your determination remained unshaken.

"That is a matter I will handle myself, uncle," you asserted, your voice steady and resolute. You were acutely aware of the potential consequences of defying the elders, but your concern for the boy's well-being outweighed any fear of reprisal. "Do not worry."

Hiramu sighed, a reluctant acknowledgment of your determination. Despite his reservations, he knew better than to stand in your way when your stubborn mind was set to its desires. 

"Very well," he conceded, his voice tinged with resignation. At that moment, he placed his trust in your judgment, knowing that you would do whatever was necessary to ensure the young boy’s safety and well-being, even if it meant challenging the traditions of your elders. “What else?”

“We might stay a day longer, to make sure that this is the only concern.” You retorted back to him, pursing your lips together in a tight line. “I shall head off and see to it that barriers are strengthened. There need not be any more situations like this one.”

“Very well. I’ll go ahead and take him to our inn.”

“Make sure he’s well fed, uncle. And that he’s alright.” 

Hiramu snickers. “You act as though I didn’t take care of you or your brother.”

"I’ll check on him when I return. We need to ensure he's truly free of any residual curse," you said tenderly towards the older man.. "We also need to understand who he is. How did he get here at all, past the barriers. And how did he get this powerful. This puzzle requires quite a bit of effort.”

Hiramu nodded in agreement, his face reflecting his approval of your thorough approach. "Very well," he replied, "We should also see if we can help him find his way. No one should be left to wander alone, much so not one who has been through such an ordeal."

You knelt beside the boy, offering a reassuring smile. "Can you tell us your name?" you asked gently, hoping to ease him into conversation.

As the boy's gaze met yours, his initially wide eyes began to soften, a subtle shift that hinted at his growing realization of safety in your presence. Despite this reassurance, he remained silent, a reaction you attributed to the lingering shock and confusion from the events he had endured. Understandingly, you accepted his quiet, knowing well that pushing him to speak before he was ready could only cause further distress.

You addressed him with a gentle, reassuring smile, your tone soft yet imbued with an underlying strength. "Take all the time you need, little boy," you encouraged, your words floating warmly in the cool air, offering him the space and time he might require to recover from his ordeal. Your smile, kind and patient, was meant to communicate that he was under no pressure to reveal anything before he felt comfortable.

Straightening up, you prepared to continue your duties, aware of the responsibilities that still awaited your attention beyond this encounter. You glanced towards your uncle, who had also been through a trying time, his vigilance unyielding as he supported your efforts. 

"Get some rest. You too, uncle," you added, acknowledging his fatigue and your appreciation for his steadfast support. "I’ll return with haste."

As you turned to leave, the boy's eyes followed your every move, wide and contemplative. In the quiet aftermath of your promise, his gaze lingered on your retreating figure, a mix of newfound trust and lingering uncertainty playing across his features.  His eyes, filled with a depth that spoke of both fear and curiosity, seemed to hold a thousand unasked questions. 

As he watched you disappear into the crowd, there was a palpable sense of wonder about whether he could find his voice, not just to speak but to share his thoughts, fears, and perhaps his hidden stories. The boy was silently grappling with the idea of opening up, of letting someone else into his secluded world.

You, aware of his watchful eyes, felt a twinge of responsibility and hope. His silent scrutiny did not go unnoticed, and it reminded you of the delicate task ahead—not just protecting him from external dangers but also nurturing his trust and confidence to the point where he would feel safe to express himself. The boy's quiet contemplation as you walked away hinted at the significant role you would play in his life, potentially being the first to hear his voice when he finally chose to speak. 

As you melded with the festivities, the distance between you growing, you carried with you the weight of his unspoken thoughts, hoping that when you returned, the boy would be ready to break his silence, allowing you into his world. Until then, he shuts his eyes. He lets the sleep take him to the nether world, where nightmares still come to follow.

HIROMI THINKS THAT SLEEP WAS ALL THAT WOULD FIX THINGS. Hiromi returned to the heart of the festival, your task of reinforcing the protective barriers around the periphery completed. Your work, involving the meticulous weaving of energy to strengthen the existing magical defenses, had left you sharp and attuned to even the slightest disturbance. The process was arduous, as you needed to locate and neutralize any lingering curses that could threaten the festival's sanctity. Each of these encounters, a dance of skill and arcane prowess, tested not only your abilities but also your mental fortitude and resolve.

The challenges were varied, ranging from minor nuisances that were swiftly dealt with, to more stubborn, malignant energies that demanded all your focus and power to dispel. Yet, you managed each with precision and control, your extensive training and natural aptitude shining through. With every curse you unraveled and every barrier you chose to further fortify. As Akimu ensured the festival grounds remained a safe haven, you would do the same. This land must always be free from the influence of dark forces.

This vigilant defense was crucial, not only to protect the attendees but to maintain the balance of energies within the festival area. Any breach could lead to chaos, potentially unleashing harm on the unsuspecting revelers. Your successful fortification of the area thus served as an invisible shield, one that allowed the festival to continue in joyous celebration without the shadow of malevolent interference.

As the sky began to lighten with the approach of dawn, you continued that prideful vigilance, keeping a watchful eye on the worshippers gathered for the festival. Amidst the joyous celebrations, you remained ever alert, scanning the crowd for any signs of disturbance or danger. It was in the stillness of the early morning hours that you noticed a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

Despite the dim light of dawn, you sensed a presence nearby, a stirring of energy that caught all of your attention. Instinctively, you turned your gaze toward the source and saw the pink-haired boy, his eyes open and alert. You approached him quietly, your movements fluid and deliberate. You could sense that something had changed, that your encounter earlier had left an impression on him. With a gentle smile, you greeted him, your voice soft but reassuring.

"Good morning," you said, your tone warm with genuine concern. "How are you feeling?"

The boy's gaze flickered between curiosity and caution as he studied you, trying to parse the intentions behind your unexpected approach. Despite the swirl of doubt clouding his young mind, there was an undeniable sense of comfort that seemed to emanate from your presence—somewhat a stability in the tumultuous sea of his current experiences. Sensing his hesitation, you understood his reticence; after all, to him, you and uncle Hiramu were nothing more than strangers who had suddenly entered his life under unusual and likely frightening circumstances.

However, you sensed a deeper narrative woven into the fabric of the boy's aura, a story that extended beyond his current fear and confusion. You were determined to unearth the role he played in the festival's strange occurrences, driven by a conviction that his involvement was not merely coincidental. This was uncharted territory, a situation that neither you nor the festival had encountered before. Yet, you believed that new challenges were always opportunities for growth and understanding, reminders that there is always a "first time" for every occurrence in life.

Respecting his silence, you chose not to press him further for answers. You recognized that trust needed to be earned, especially in such delicate circumstances. It was then, in a moment of frailty, that the boy's strength seemed to falter, his body leaning as if he might collapse. Reacting swiftly, you stepped forward, kneeling to catch him, your movements guided by a blend of concern and readiness to support him.

As he rebounded slightly, stabilized by your quick intervention, he blinked up at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and bewilderment. In that brief exchange of looks, a silent understanding began to form. Your actions spoke louder than any words could have; they conveyed a promise of protection and empathy, laying the groundwork for a trust that might soon allow the boy to share his story and perhaps reveal the mysteries surrounding the events that had drawn you all together.

As you extended your hand toward him, he hesitated momentarily before his eyes blinked in a mix of confusion and curiosity. Observing his uncertainty, you offered him a tender smile, softening your expression to ease his apprehension.

"Are you alright, young one?" you asked, your voice low and soothing, cutting through the noise of the surrounding festivities.

In that moment, the boy found himself unexpectedly captivated by your presence. There was something almost ethereal about you, a radiance that seemed to emanate from within, casting a gentle, enchanting glow in the soft light of the festival’s lanterns—ones which still light up the dark morning glory. Your form appeared haloed by this light, lending you an otherworldly grace that was both comforting and awe-inspiring.

Your eyes, warm and inviting, seemed to draw him in further. They were deep pools of compassion and understanding, reaching out to him across the void of his own confusion and fear. As your eyes met, he felt a profound connection; it was as though you could see into the very depths of his soul, understanding his fears and yearnings without a word spoken.

The world around both of you seemed to pause, creating a bubble of serenity amidst the chaos. To the boy, this wasn’t just a simple meeting; it was a pivotal moment that would redefine his understanding of safety and hope. Even before he knew your name, Hiromi, he saw in you not just a protector or a higher power, but a guiding light, a beacon of hope illuminating his darkened world.

"What's your name?" you inquired gently, noticing his silence but undeterred by it.

When he remained mute, your smile broadened, radiating kindness and patience. "It’s okay if you have no name," you reassured him, your voice a soft anchor in his stormy sea of thoughts.

Upon hearing this, he looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of amazement and relief. Here was someone offering not just help, but a place and a presence in the world.

"I’ll give you one," you promised, a simple offer that nonetheless promised him a new beginning, a sense of identity and belonging that he had long craved. This simple gesture of naming was more than a label; it was a gift of a new life and a fresh start under your protective gaze.

You smile warmly at him, feeling the weight of the moment as you prepare to give him a name—a simple yet profound gift that could anchor him to a new beginning. When you smile at him, he thinks he found heaven. monsters like him do not deserve heaven. Yet the goddess you were, embraced him in the warmth of tender night. Names were important. In the family, it was.  Sensing the importance of the choice, you think carefully, choosing a name rich with strength and history. The family histories had such good names to choose from, you think.

"Would the name Ryomen Sukuna suffice for you?" you ask gently, observing his reaction to gauge whether it resonates with him. “Now that you are with us, you will gain two lives. The past and now the future. Will you accept it, little one?”

The boy looks up, his eyes widening slightly as he processes the name. It's clear he is unfamiliar with its origins or meanings, but there is an undeniable flicker of intrigue in his gaze. Ryomen Sukuna, a name that carries echoes of a mystic and power to it. Entirely opposite of what he had known. The boy, now Sukuna, thinks this could imbue him with a sense of might and courage, perhaps reflecting the new path he might choose to follow under your guidance. And then, maybe then, he can serve you. With this new name.

For a moment, he remains silent, contemplating the name, rolling it over in his mind. Then, slowly, a tentative smile begins to form on his lips. It seems to suit him, or at least, he is willing to step into the mantle it could offer.

"Ryomen Sukuna," he repeats softly, testing how the name feels as it comes out of his mouth. His voice is unsure at first, but with each repetition, he seems to grow more comfortable, more accepting of it.

Seeing his acceptance, your smile broadens. "Yes, Ryomen Sukuna," you confirm with a nod, affirming his new identity. "It’s a strong name, one that I believe can help guide you to become whoever you wish to be."

The boy nods, a sense of new identity beginning to settle within him. The name, though ancient, now starts a new chapter in his life, one filled with potential and promise. You extend your hand to him once more, this time as a gesture of warmth. A future worth looking forward to.

"Now, you must be hungry, Sukuna," you suggest warmly, ready to introduce him back into the celebration, not as an orphan lost amidst chaos but as a newly named participant with a protector by his side. “There’s still some stalls open. Some are not yet done with the festival. Do you want something to eat?”

He looks at you for a moment and then tenderly nods. As he takes your hand, his grip is firm, and his initial hesitance seems to wash away with the rising sun. Together, you walk back towards the heart of where the fullness of the festival had been, your steps synchronized. Ryomen Sukuna, newly named and newly empowered, walks beside you, no longer just a passive spectator but a young boy with a nascent but growing sense of belonging and purpose.

Your role as his protector, and now the giver of his name, has created a bond between you, one that promises not only safety but also a future filled with the potential for transformation. As you both step into the bustling festival, the early morning light casts long shadows, yet for Sukuna, illuminated by the glow of the lanterns and buoyed by your supportive presence, the world seems less intimidating.

You had given him a name, securing a place for him in this chaos—a gesture simple yet profound. This act forged a tentative bond, knitting a fragile sense of belonging into his young heart. And now, for the first time, he truly belonged somewhere. On this transformative night, his heart was full of nothing but hope. He had a name—a name that was uniquely his, one his mother had never given him.

As you walked side by side, he looked up at you with eyes shining with admiration. Sukuna adored his new name, not just for its sound or its meaning, but because it was a gift from you. It symbolized a new beginning, a sign of your faith in him. In that simple name, he found a deep sense of identity and purpose. He hoped beyond hope that this newfound connection would last.

Feeling the gravity of this moment, he tightened his grip on your hand. You looked down at him and smiled—a gesture that sealed his newfound faith in this bond. At that moment, Ryomen Sukuna felt as though he had been reborn. No longer just a boy lost in the festival's chaos, but a person with a role, a duty, and a place in the world. His life, from that moment forward, was to be lived for you, in devotion to the path you would guide him on. You had become his guardian, his mentor—his goddess—and he, in turn, devoted himself to be your loyal follower.

This rebirth was not just about a new name but a whole new existence shaped by the promise of guidance and protection under your watchful care. As the festival carried on around you, with its myriad lights and shadows, Sukuna walked confidently by your side, secure in his new identity and the journey ahead.

[justanotherlifeff]

Love is meaningless

[True form heian era Sukuna x reader. I may have taken many creative liberties with his backstory alongside certain spoilers so be warned!]

Love is meaningless, this was something Sukuna believed for most of his life. He can proclaim it precisely because he understands it. Being born a wretched curse by his foolish starving mother was not a start to life he had appreciated, but it was what it was. Fate was that he absorbed his twin for nourishment, fate was that he was born monstrous. One can only live with fate and become stronger, after all. Of course, he had to raise himself, of course he had to get stronger to survive. The golden age of Jujutsu meant many other cursed spirits, and of course, humans were no better. Weak people shouldn’t complain about their transgressions after all. That is simply how the world is built, to please the strong.

Yet, unexpected things happen, as it is part of life as well. Some people find it in their stupid, human, hearts to love a monster. And sometimes, something as meaningless as love creeps up in a monster’s heart too if they are weak enough. Sukuna wasn’t born the king of curses after all. It was a meaningless gesture that one might call kindness, something he believed that he didn’t deserve, that started it all. Just like his mother who birthed him, this foolish girl gave him an apple from her basket when he was starving. A foolish act of kindness from a human to a cursed being. He accepted nonetheless, as a starving man would, since this was before the days when he took whatever he wanted.

The days when he was weak enough to be considerate. For some reason, you kept coming back, with food every time, and for some reason, he didn’t leave the outskirts of that village after the first few encounters. He convinced himself that it was because your cooking was amazing, not because he wanted to see that smile on your face again, not because he was getting addicted to that kindness. Why would a human be kind to the likes of him after all? Surely, he was being delusional. However, weeks turned to months, and you wouldn’t stop visiting the small cave where he was living at, since no one would give him shelter or a job due to his monstrous features. Somehow you weren’t afraid of the four arms, the four eyes, the odd markings on his body. Somehow, you made conversation with him at one point as you watched him eagerly eat whatever food you brought him and somehow, he found himself replying. Hope was something that the weak shouldn’t have and yet, he found it in you, he made that mistake.

Looking at water in streams was something he hated, because it showed him his inhumanity and made the struggles he faced his entire life be something that was acceptable. Who would care for a monster after all? And yet, one day, you looked at him and called him beautiful with a blush on your pretty little face. He didn’t know how to reply to that, as someone who never encountered a situation like that before and yet, he couldn’t sleep all night, thinking of those words. He awkwardly called you beautiful too the next day.

Small compliments turned into teasing and at one point, neither you nor he had to say it out loud that you loved each other. It was simply something that happened. However, you had to keep it a secret from the village, and he understood why. Loving something like him had its consequences as they would kill you for being with a curse. He understood the consequences but his hunger for you was far too much to ignore. It started with kisses, and then he wanted more, so much more. And you let him take what he wanted with a smile on your face, that same smile he fell in love with. Even your old kimonos started looking like ones that queens would wear, your simple hairpin was better than the highest quality jade to him. You were beautiful and you were his and that was the best thing that happened in his wretched life at the time. Or at least, he was foolish and weak enough to believe so.

During his days as the king of curses, he saw the women he fucked as no more than pieces of meat that exist for his pleasure. One might think he wasn’t capable of being gentle, of having any other expression than the ruthless and deranged smile that adorns his face. Yet, his first time was so different, as he looked upon your beauty with nothing but wonder in his eyes, not believing his own luck as you were naked underneath him, that beautiful tint of red adorning your face. Perhaps that was when he found himself loving the color red so much, it was never about the blood of the thousands he killed later in life. You looked beautiful even with your old kimonos, but you looked divine without it, and he wasn’t shy enough to keep that opinion to himself, mostly because he wanted to see that blush on your face when he says it out loud. He wanted to hear you call out his name in that affectionate and yet pleasured voice when he was deep inside you. He wanted you, all of you, even if he didn’t deserve you.

The weak gets trampled on, it isn’t something they should complain about as it is the way of life. He almost had you, the day you came to him with a worried expression on your face and told him that you may be expecting his child. For a moment, he dreamed, despite being weak. He asked you to elope with him, that he would protect you. He knew that the child he sired would be cursed too, and that you were unmarried, so of course, overall, you would be killed if he left you alone. He loved you far too much to even consider that. “Come with me, Ill take you far from here and protect you. I’ll make sure nothing hurts you or our child. I’ll get stronger for you.” He told you with that gruff tone of his. To his surprise, you agreed. However, you were a kind little thing full of hope. You wanted to see your parents one last time before leaving with him forever. He didn’t understand it, but he wanted you to be happy, so he suggested making a binding vow. A part of him felt wary as all these felt too good to be true.

The vow was simple, it was to live as long as you can. He was still new to forming binding vows, so he forgot to acknowledge the fact that breaking the vow didn’t mean much if someone else killed you. Only that your death would be far more painful. Things were peaceful, too peaceful. He ate the food you cooked him, talked with you about a future together, looked at the sun set together. Like every day, you left him after that with a kiss on his cheek. Yet, he felt uneasy enough to sneak near the village that night after hearing the commotion.

It didn’t take long to find you, as you were right there, in the middle of the village square, or at least your severed head was. The blood splattered everywhere indicated the effects of the binding vow, your entire body exploded when your head was cut. Perhaps you were weak and ended up telling your parents, perhaps somehow, they found out that you were pregnant with his child, he would never know. That village burned that night and not a single person there survived. As he stood there, watching whatever was left of you burn with the village, it was almost as if he achieved enlightenment. The weak shouldn’t complain, so he wasn’t complaining. He would get stronger so that he would be the one taking, to fill the void that was created this day. His hunger was endless because he would never eat the food you cook again. Love is meaningless, because without you, this world lost its meaning.

[artisticcannibal]

~Satoru Gojo as your best friend would include:

Although it wasn't really what you wanted to do, you were stuck being friends with Gojo. He said if you don't be friends' with him then he would daily disturb you and yes he did, you were driven to the highest level of annoyance from his constant teasing, irritating you, and infuriating you.

Gojo sometimes can be creepy too. "How did the noodles taste like, last night, idiot?" After all, how did he find out what you were eating on your bed at 8:50 p.m. yesterday night?

He doesn't even hide the fact how possessive or obsessive he is for you.

Insults are a love language for you both. There isn't a day that goes where you both don't threaten to kill one other.

Bunking class together and creeping around the local park, listening to music, messing around, and talking about random topics while munching on chips is your and his favorite thing to do.

Sometimes in the evenings, he will take you to his favorite location by the river and just express how grateful he is to have you, even though he had just called you an idiot five times before.

He would hold your hand and put his head on your shoulder and just doze off to sleep while talking to you. He just looked too admirable when he would sleep.

You both would be assigned for missions together and you both would make the best team anyone has ever seen.

He has never felt safer or more secure in his life than when he is around you. This trust and love he has for you is just unexplainable.

Gojo would just be overly concerned for you; one day you didn't show up to school, and Gojo became anxious imagining all the scenarios that may happen, such as you being sick, having an accident, an encounter with a cursed spirit,or doing something dumb that got you in trouble. Gojo would sneak out of class and rush to your house on the guise of needing to use the restroom. "Y/N??? Why didn't you attend school today?"

At the end of the day, Gojo would remind you how much you really mean to him. He loves you and you love him too. There isn't a day where you both can't live without each other. It's like you both are the source of life for one another. Inseparable.

P.s This is my first fanfiction for Jjk. Please forgive me if any mistake arises

[redtsundere-writes]

sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33

Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen

king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader

Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.

Beginning. ← Previous |

Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 

Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 

You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 

“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 

Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 

“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 

After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 

“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 

“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 

Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 

“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 

Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 

“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 

That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 

“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 

“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 

Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 

“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.

“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 

Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 

This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 

Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.

“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 

Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 

“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 

At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.

Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 

“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 

“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 

“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 

“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 

There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 

Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  

“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 

“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 

Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 

“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 

“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 

Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.

“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 

“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 

“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 

“She has potential.” 

“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 

“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 

Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 

The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 

“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 

“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.

Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.

Order your own fanfic!

Masterlist.

[boringgothgamergirl]

My glorious king popped off this chapter

[irideste]

NEW WIP

You CAN'T tell me this ain't canon

[wystericwoes]

Doomed pt. 5

Warnings: Cursing, fighting and descriptions of gore + violence.

(Sorry this took so long)

Sukuna watched intensely through the window, a fist under his chin and robes loosely adjourned.

He stared As you picked a flower up and took it from the vine, sliding it into your loose hanging sleeve. Looking around making sure no one saw as a child would after stealing candy. 

He wondered what you were going to do with it. Put in your hair? A vase? His mind wondered. Why act as if it’s a deceitful act that one could get in trouble for when you could do whatever you wanted? 

“Lord Sukuna?”

Uraume approached him from behind, head lowered. His gaze was unwavering as he continued to stare at you. 

He grunted in response. 

“The councilmans here to see you.”

“Tell him I'm busy.”

“It's important.”

“He can wait.”

She gulped. Hating that she had to be the news bearer.

“He… demands an audience.”

He tightened his fist. 

“I'm afraid word got out. And now all your allies are beginning to talk. Not attending this meeting would only make things worse.”

“Tch.”

He turned around to face her, her head remained bowed.

“Where is he?”

That night dinner was quieter than usual. 

He didn't eat, you hardly saw him eat anymore. He simply watched atop pillows, one fist under his jaw as you indulged. You were no longer intimidated by him when he was like this, pissed. 

“What happened?”

You asked. 

“Nothing.”

“Don’t do that with me Sukuna.”

You said as you lifted a bite of food to your mouth. 

He scoffed and turned his head away pouting like a kid. 

“Something political?”

He was never able to lie to you. 

"Snotty pissboys who call themselves leaders who I have to upkeep diplomatic relations with."

His jaw ticked and fists tightened, the air growing thicker with tension. You decided not to press any further.

“Are you going to be okay or would like some help?”

He looked back at you, you had slid down your robe revealing your shoulder. 

He grinned. 

“I always want your help.”

Before Ryomen Sukuna was what he is today, he was a man. 

A man who had made a mistake, falling in love. 

He was a few things actually. 

A man, a sorcerer, a killer, and a ruler. 

But you held him back from his true potential. There were certain lines he would not cross as he progressed his reign of terror. 

He maintained an air of ruthlessness and a reputation of brutality. It's how he amassed power, no one threatened to cross his merciless path. Rumors of him killing a handmaid for bringing him his tea late, or killing a high-ranking nobleman with a hairpin because his footman offended him. These tales were what kept him on his throne.

But as long as you lived, he would never be able to cross the threshold of true power. Because you gave him morals, and morals were limitations. 

As of right now he was simply a king among men, a powerful sorcerer. 

He desired to be a god, but that simply wasn't possible.

For what god cares for a human?

That human was what he lived for, and what he worked for. 

Uraume and Sukunas inner circle despised you. They watched as the man who was on the rise to godhood was stumped by a non-sorcerer of no exceptional lineage or wealth. But they knew that you held more power over them than any of them combined- Killing you was not an option. You were untouchable, and an unmovable obstacle.

Even with your kindness you were a hindrance to them. They saw what you truly were. 

An inconvenience, A weakness. 

They had to stand by as he gawked at you and adorned you with jewels and silks, hand fed you grapes like a servant. Like he couldn’t snap your throat in an instant. 

Disgusting. 

And all the sex? fucking annoying. 

He would have a warlord waiting in the conference room as you were shamelessly copulating in the springs. 

People started to talk. About the ruthless leader Ryomen Sukuna and his only concubine. 

The one that he spoiled, the one that he daunted around and let speak freely at his side during important meetings and gatherings. 

Concubine. You could never forget that's what you are to most people, and you didn't. But it doesn't matter, because at the end of the day, you're the one who he’ll kill for. You knew that everyone either hated you or loved you, was either jealous or resentful. 

Now usually, fellow people in power wouldn’t care about any usual whore. But you seemed to linger. Always be by his side and be the only one he had- and while the servants of his residence didn’t dare to say anything in fear of his retaliation, his allies and their servants had no such obligation. And once they left his grand estate, people talked.

You walked with an air of power, after a while you stopped caring about all the talk and rumors- because that's all it was. Talk. At the end of the day, they would treat you kindly with a warm smile as you walked by. 

To a few who liked you, they admired you as the olive branch and as the light in his life. the one who stepped in with a moral objection before he killed or punished someone who likely didn't deserve his wrathful hand.

A sweet love story, and the last shred of his humanity. But to most, a mistake. To his inner Jujutsu circle, a hindrance. 

Some nights you could touch him in all the right ways to get him to open up, you were on top, you left the hickeys. 

Your face was buried in his neck, he never made any noise. Just moved. Maybe a grunt. You felt his hips rut against you as you traced the outline of his hard cock through his thin white robes. 

Times like this at his most vulnerable was when you pried.

“Sukuna?”

He hummed against your head. 

You placed your chin on his chest and looked up at him. 

“Why don’t you marry me?”

His breath hitched slightly. But his face remained unmoving.

“You know I'd say yes.”

You pouted into him 

“You’re cute.” He growled. 

“I'm sexy. Not cute. And would be excellent as a spouse.”

You pressed yourself against him, slouching down as if in defeat.

“You are. We’re already together though, is this not enough?”

You sighed and turned around, facing upwards next to him. 

“I just want it to be official. I'm tired of hiding behind doors. You're the strongest right? So why do you worry?”

He could lie and say politics. But he always found himself physically unable to.

“I've never been married before.”

“Neither have I, that's why we should do it together!” You whined as you nuzzled into his neck and threw an arm across his broad chest. One of his stronger ones wrapping around your back.

He chuckled into you. The truth was, a lot of reasons. He didn't want you to have the pressure that came as the married person to a powerful lord such as Sukuna when you were so young, and he also didn't want people to know about you. If he becomes married you become more of a target. Rather than your existence outside his home being whispers of a side piece, the ring on his finger would be an immediate show of “I have a weakness.”

 You could get kidnapped, enslaved, assaulted, killed- 

His fists tightened. 

But also rather selfishly, he couldn't bare the thought of accepting himself as a romantic. A wedding ceremony and honeymoon is all too intimate for one such as himself, he's supposed to be revered and invoke terror. 

You placed a soft hand across his own, easing the tension. 

“I just want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“That I'm yours? What about you?”

“They already know who I belong to”. You said with a sly smile, moving down your kimono donning several hickeys and bites. 

You moved so you were sitting on his lap, he sat up and looked up at you with half-lidded eyes. 

“I want you to do what it takes to become the strongest so we can get married and you won't worry.”

You placed your hands on his chest and rubbed circles across his toned muscles. 

He wasn't just scared of the enemy though; he was scared of losing himself. If he had no restraints, if he was away from his chain of reason and humanity- he couldn't hide the monster you suppressed. and the thought of him losing himself to madness didn't scare him- rather it stressed him out. The uncertainty of it all, the darkness he had been able to hide behind your shining light.

You laid down on him again and his arms instinctively found solace around you.

“Do you know what it would take for me to do this?” 

“I do.” 

“I’d be gone more. I might change.” 

“Life is short, don’t waste it all on me.” 

“It’s not a waste if it’s with you.”

You hummed in contentment as you nuzzled into his neck and closed your eyes. 

"I know you'll never hurt me."

He exhaled a long sigh unfurrowing his brows. You were his humanity, so as long as he had you, it would be fine. 

Right?

To gain power he needed to fight, which meant longer trips. But with your blessing he persisted, even if time away from you was torture. 

“Protect them with your life or I'll ruin yours.”

Was the threat he gave to everyone as he left you alone. 

He hated it. Absolutely fucking despised it Whether he was gone for two days or two months. 

And he quickly learned how to take that rage and loneliness and warp it into his new growing obsession- power.

A name had begun to spring around Japan, as the man who never lost. 

Rumors sprung of a monster terrorizing the region in which he reigned, and the ones outside of it.

Each time he came back to you he had to remind himself who he was, with your saccharine kisses, delicate touches, and careless whispers. Such a stark contrast to the pure filth and violence he was subjugating himself to. 

But each time he left you, a piece of him stayed behind. 

You never cared for the details of what he was doing, ignorance was bliss after all. 

Until he came home with blood on his hands. 

“Sukuna…”

You had gone in to kiss him, and you brought his hand up to your face. But that was when you noticed it. 

“It’s not mine, don’t worry.” he said reassuringly, as if that was somehow better. 

You stuffed it down. He’s a good man who loves you- he would never hurt you. 

It was like a raging fire inching closer to you, but so long as you couldn't feel it, you could keep looking away.

You were looking around for him, trying to find his company as you carried your feet across the estate. 

“Sukunaa!” You sang. 

He came out from a corridor and closed it behind him. 

“I was just thinking about…!”

Scarlet was scattered across his body as if he had been painted like a fine canvas.

You froze. A surge of fresh anxiety hit your veins as your eyes wandered down to the bottom of the door, what was behind it?

“Y/n”

He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him- his eyes were dead. 

This was not your Sukuna. 

You tried pushing him away, but he didn't let up. Instead his grip tightened. 

“Did you know that your handmaid liked you? They were going to confess to you.”

He whispered. 

“Stop…”

“To think that i’ve let myself fall from such grace that everyone has forgotten who you belong too.”

“Sukuna…”

You were not unfamiliar with bouts of jealousy. Of rough nights of fucking and hands on your neck. But in his eyes, there was always love, always sensual and caring underneath those layers of grit and abrasion. Extensive and precise control over his actions so as to not truly irreparably damage you. An air of caution and attention to detail to see if you were okay.

His grip was bruising, nails piercing the skin as rivulets of blood graced your skin. 

He feverishly kissed you, shoving his tongue past your teeth in an aggressive movement. 

You whimpered into him trying to leave, but each time you resisted he squeezed harder. He clogged your airways with his persistence and left you in shock. Pain began to violently spread where his grip was held.

He eventually pulled away as you stayed breathless and panting. 

“Sukuna you're scaring m-”

“Don’t go in there. I can’t help you if you do.”

He cut you off as he released you and signaled for the nearest servant for them to clean the mess. Then he walked away. 

Your eyes flickered to the cracked door behind him, terror coursing through your veins as you wondered what was inside.

The bruise on your hip blossomed shades of yellow and purple sharing an eerie resemblance to the blue lotuses in the garden.

You sat as hot tears glazed your face as the nurse dabbed your wound clean.

Small crescent-shaped abrasions graced across your hues of painted skin, artistic in a way.

The maid cleaning your wounds said nothing as you cried. too scared of what would happen if she dared utter a word.

She wrapped your wound in a cotton bandage, and instructed you to rest. 

You leaned back admiring the hardwood walls and paintings, tears eventually ceasing as you lay alone, and cried alone.

The next few months it only got worse. He would be gone for even longer periods, and he limited your access to the outside world. At first, you could go with an escort, but now only him. And he was never there.

You started to write letters. To him, while he was gone, but you never gave them to him. Writing helped you clear your head.

But who you were writing to wasn't the man who was alive today, it was the one who you knew before you sent him off to become the strongest. 

Sukuna, 

I hope this letter finds you well. Because I, selfishly, am not. I am scared. I am irrefutably alone. Things are dimming and becoming gray, I find myself terrified in your presence, and terribly lonesome in your absence. I am in purgatory. Unable to move, or breathe, I can't even find the words to…

You sniffled as you dipped the pen back into its ink holder and slid into a cold bed. 

You spent that night sobbing. At first quietly, but then you could no longer hold back the choked sobs that echoed through your shared bedroom. 

You had to make a decision. 

And so, you hid the final letter and packed your things.

And left within the dead of night. 

A monstrous roar echoed through the decorated walls.

He violently worked his way through the entire estate, ripping doors and dropping ceramics. 

“What did I say?!”

His voice almost echoed, filling the halls and invoking terror. 

Anyone unfortunate enough to be met in his path was either yelled at, mauled, or both. 

A trail of corpses and pools of crimson met his feet as he stormed through the halls. 

“I gave everyone ONE job. And none of you know where they went?!”

Uraume ran up behind him and hovered a hand over his shoulder.

“Lord Sukuna! Perhaps this is a good thing.”

He turned around to face her, and with his silence, she continued. 

“Now we can focus on your reign! You can inst-”

She was knocked to the ground. 

“Mind your place.”

She put a hand over her face as blood gushed from her nose, 

“I'll deal with you later.”

His words were toxic, malicious and deep, 

“L-Lord sukuna!”

A lady wearing nurses' robes bowed on the ground. 

“I may have information!" her voice shook.

“Well? Tell me!” He shouted

She got up and shuffled over to your room. Sukuna following close behind. 

She slid the door open and the sight shocked him. 

Your clothes were strewn across the floor, as well as papers, ink, and personal belongings. 

You must've left distressed.

Without hesitation she went over to the corner where your writing station was, and popped open a loose floorboard, revealing dozens of letters. All were addressed to Sukuna. 

She handed them over to him as she bowed her head to the ground. 

He grabbed them and began rampantly flipping through as his face fell. He sat down on the shared bed, and he hung onto every word, every affirmation, and every syllable. 

He brought his head up, a fury in his eyes. 

“Pack my things.” 

The nurse nodded and scurried away. 

He had a death induced grip on the papers, crinkling and tearing under his hold. 

He set off at night, alone. 

“I will find you even if I must sacrifice each living soul and cast myself to hell.” 

He made a vow to himself. 

He stormed through each village and town slaughtering every person he saw after he asked his question. 

No one knew what he was talking about, even after he killed their families. Some people would lie, but he could tell- resulting in their death as well. 

His newfound senses and strength had allowed him to know the general direction in which you went, but not specifically where you were.

He pillaged through Japan on a vicious spree of mass genocide. Bodies strewn out like constellations across what was once green grass. 

Men, women, children, babies. All were just sacks of useless weak flesh that stood in the way. 

He would cross the occasional Jujutsu sorcerer, but he didn’t even care. 

They all bleed the same. 

He had worked his way through the night, until it was sunrise. And he didn’t sleep, he continued his rampage. 

Throughout the next two days, an utter massacre as one of the most tragic events befell Japan. The countryside's peaceful silence was marked with grotesque screams, crop fields and farms now watered by blood. Corpses stacked into mounds of death. 

Until he finally reached his destination. It had been days, but he knew he was there. 

He could smell you. 

A small clearing in the forest, with a small village no larger a population than 40 people. 

He had warped into a beast, not quite physically yet, but the toll of murder to this degree puts a mark on one’s soul. 

A specific hut with smoke arising from it similar to your cooking, the door creaked open. 

You were sipping on tea, and talking with a member of the family that had offered you shelter, tending to the food- when the door creaked open. 

The shaded figure bore dead soulless eyes, blood of varying stages of exposure, sharp teeth, and a cruel face. 

“I found you.” 

Your eyes shot open, and your heart began to beat faster as he approached. 

“Excuse me! Sir? You ca-“ 

The sentence was interrupted and followed by a brief momentary silence, carried out by his body collapsing, missing a head. 

Some of the blood splattered on your cheek. 

“S..sukuna….” 

You squeaked out with bloodshot eyes. 

You backed yourself against the wall as he drew closer. 

“Stop it please…” 

He loomed over you, casting a deep shadow until he got down on his knees to be closer to you. 

“You’ve got blood on your face.” 

He brought a stained thumb to your cheek and wiped the blood from your soft skin. 

“Let’s go home. I’ll discipline you later.” 

He tried pulling you up by your wrist but you resisted. 

“I’m not going!” 

He picked you up with a fluid movement and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked, but it was for nothing. You had no effect on him. 

He started walking out of the house as you saw the remains of the one who once offered you headless at your captors feet. 

Tears began to form in your eyes as you saw the form get smaller and smaller. 

You really did try and resist, you did. You pushed and shoved and clawed, but he ignored you as if you weren’t even there. 

“Why are you doing this...?” 

Your voice was weak.

He stayed quiet. Simply looking forward as he walked. 

“I don’t like who you are anymore... I don’t feel safe.” 

He stopped. 

“Who’s idea was it for me to travel and get stronger?” 

You jumped

“I didn’t know that it meant this!” 

“Oh please. What did you think I was doing? Dancing? How else does one become powerful? You aren’t that stupid are you?” 

He was right. You knew he was a killer, you had just denied it to yourself to live in your happy bubble. Tears continued to stream down your face. 

You eventually fell limp and tired from the energy and exhaust, giving up for now. 

He set you down at a tree as he began collecting firewood.

“Stay.” 

Sukuna stayed close as he gathered sticks and logs nearby. 

You shivered as night fell. Leaning against a lonesome tree and hugging yourself tightly, trying to choke back your sobs. Your situation dawning on you cruelly like a whip.

Hearing the sounds of footsteps approaching you, you turned around to see Sukuna shirtless as he held his robe over you. 

“Take it.” 

With a shaky hand you held onto it, and he helped drape it over you. 

He put the final sticks in the pile, and you watched as he created a fire from his own hand, you were much too tired to even question how he could do that. And lit the log.

He made himself comfortable in the grass as his eyes met yours. You flinched upon the contact. 

“I thought you died.” 

He said in a gravelly voice. One that resonates through your entire body. 

“I- I’m sorry…” 

He tilted his head to the side. 

“You’re not allowed outside again after this understand?” 

You furrowed your brows and frowned, looking away.

You didn’t understand how he was remaining so casual, talking to you as if he didn’t just kidnap you and murder people.

You buried yourself in the familiar scent of his clothes. They were musty, but it was all you had. 

Comforting yourself with him from him. 

“Answer me.” 

“Okay…” 

“Okay what?” 

“I understand.” 

“Now go to sleep.” 

“I can’t when you’re watching me.”

You wiped your eyes and sniffled, trying not to think about the situation. 

“I don’t care.” 

You desperately tried to sleep. To close your eyes and forget the day. But then you would feel the monstrous breathing behind you. 

You swear he's a little taller than the last time you saw him. 

Eventually as the night passed, the crackle of the fire lulled you into something close enough to sleep. When your breaths were slowed, he inched closer to you, laying down behind you. 

The blaze of the dying fire dwindled and failed to distract you from your own thoughts. You slowly turned to face the beast behind you to see him asleep, audibly letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 

The warmth he emitted was solace. And his peaceful face hid the killer within. 

Maybe you could lie to yourself long enough to make this work, maybe you could pretend it was all okay. 

You clenched your eyes and shook the thought away. 

It’ll all be better in the morning. 

His eyelids fluttered open, rays of light peeking behind the blinds to reveal your sleeping form breathing rhythmically in short paces. 

He knew he shouldn’t be indulging in this. 

But something about the attention filled a hole in him he never thought he needed filled.

He was always enough for himself. 

It was only temporary he thought, as he sat up and eased out of bed. 

Walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower, as quietly as he could. 

This really wasn’t like him. But he had just gotten so used to your unfamiliarity, to your sporadic actions and intangible remarks. 

Even after over a month of living together, he still hadn’t aired out the mystery of you. He decided for the first time to just let it be for a while, let it sit- because things were too good the way they were right now. 

One of you would start cooking or making tea and coffee, then twenty minutes later like clockwork the other would begrudgingly dredge in the kitchen with tired eyes and messy hair, sitting in a chair and accepting whatever plate of food or beverage was slid their way. 

This morning, he was feeling particularly lazy and decided to order food. Something he knew you would have no objection to, considering the last time he cooked you called it “the nastiest tasting excuse for shit food” you had ever tasted. 

Truth was it wasn’t terrible. And your attempts at cooking weren’t much better. But it felt nice practicing together.

He pulled out his phone and began putting in the food as he plopped himself down on the couch. kicking his feet up on the coffee table. 

He could hear your disinclined footsteps from the other side of the big yet humble house make its way over to you. 

“For someone so rich I really wish you had a guest bedroom. You snore.” 

“That’s a pretty interesting way of thanking me for letting you live here for free.” 

You drank a glass of water and made your way over to the couch, sitting down next to him before abruptly collapsing and falling your head into his lap. 

“I can't live in my apartment remember?” 

“What are you feeling for breakfast, sugary or savory?” 

“Sugary.” 

You rolled over to be facing upwards, staring at the bleak and perfectly eggshell white ceiling. 

“A person after my own heart.” 

He finished sending in the order as he set his phone down and also kicked his head up. 

“Why is your house so boring? It wouldn’t kill you to paint it pink or something.” 

“Pink? Really?” 

“Sorry, blue.” 

You looked over at his upwards facing chin, admiring his features until he looked down at you, causing you to avert your gaze. 

“It’s rude to stare.” 

You simply huffed and sat upright. 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“You love it.” 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” 

You stood up and scampered away avoiding his remark as he shouted at you. 

“Don’t slip and fall!” 

You really shouldn’t be getting used to it. But this routine was so comfortable to you now. And for both of you, served a purpose outside yourselves. A selfishly selfless act. 

For you, the safety and regiment you so desperately needed to ground yourself after all the change and trauma you had witnessed in the last month. Being with Gojo was a slow addiction. you tell yourself you can quit anytime, but realize too late that you can’t live without it. 

For him, the wild and crazy circumstances of the whole thing made it too delicious to quit. The sheer absurdity of it all for him- you being an exception. It was a stronger but fleeting high. 

You had been making impeccable progress, as far as he was concerned. Which was good, because there was so much banking on your success. So much more than you knew. 

You dreamt about him again. All these memories keep resurfacing that you never had. You suddenly developed an interest in ancient Japan and Jujutsu society, taking in any history about it that you could. 

Physically, you still had a long way to go before you reached your full potential, but you were trying. 

You hadn’t been on a mission in several weeks, learning only the basics such as how to wield a weapon and concentrating cursed energy at will. But seemingly everyday it gets a little easier.

You let the hot water roll over your body, an act almost cleansing in the physical and spiritual sense. The steam awakens your senses, and you rest easy knowing when you get out food will be waiting for you in the kitchen. That all things are as they should be for the time being. 

The weather is slowly getting colder, as fall creeps its way over summer. Leading you to wear warmer clothing, a long sleeve and pants. You step out into the kitchen drying the remnants of water in your hair using your mostly damp towel, the smell of food hitting your nose. 

“This is the real reason why I stick around Satoru.” 

“Really? Nothing else?”

You didn't even entertain him as you ripped open the bags filled with stacks of delectable goodness. 

Adjacent to you he got two plates out and utensils, the both of you began setting your plates. 

“Oh and also, you have a mission tomorrow.”

You halted your movements abruptly, slowly turning your head to his unbothered disposition. 

“And you just thought to tell me?”

Venom laced your words.

“I didn't want you to be mad at me! you get scary.”

You took a deep breath and spoke behind gritted teeth. 

“Okay. Care to tell me more?”  

Aggressively shoving food on your plate, he stepped a couple paces farther from you.

“There's been reports of a higher ranked curse going around, weird stuff keeps happening, people dying, mutilation, blah blah. You’ll be accompanied by a pro this time rather than just babysitting.”

“Alright. And will my life be in danger? Are you hiding the details from me again, so I have no idea what I'm walking into?”

“Nope! Not this time.”

  He walked away with his plate of food and sat on the couch. 

“Are there any other details you'd like to disclose before I find out the truth?”

“Not particularly.”

He said before a big bite.

You very annoyingly sat down as far away from him as possible. 

“I better not find out you're lying to me.”

“Just watch a pro at work, that’s all you gotta do.” 

“Do I at least get a weapon?” 

The first thing you notice about Nanami is his deliberate ability to make any situation feel more or less stressful. 

His face bore little to no reactions, his posture stiff and correct, his voice commanding. 

He made a lasting impression. 

The second thing you noticed was that he was also handsome. Not pretty like Gojo or cute like Yuuji, but handsome. 

You trudged through the tunnel of a dark sewer. You had to remain strong. As difficult as it had been to accept over the last weeks, this was going to be your life now. 

You honestly didn’t know what to expect. 

“You’ve been misinformed I assume.” 

He broke the silence. 

“Probably. I have a terrible teacher.” 

“Sounds in character for him. What all do you know of the situation?” 

“Basically nothing.” 

You felt that feeling again, of being in the dark. Quite literally and metaphorically. 

“Itadori and I have done most of the leg work already, the hunt for this transfigurer and tracking its location.” 

“Transfigurer?” 

“I suppose I should prepare your for what you are about to see. If at all it becomes stressful I understand if you want to leave.” 

He took your affirming nod and silence as a means to continue his explanation. 

“This curse can alter one’s physical shape into anything it desires. It’s a truly grotesque and disgusting power. Which is why I take urgency to exorcise it.” 

“By ones physical shape do you mean…?” 

“Humans.” 

You felt a tightness well in your throat. 

“You’re new to this, and if I’m being frank this assignment was not the best to be one of your first. But I suppose this is a good way to throw you into the field and begin developing your tolerance.” 

Tolerance? You wondered what he meant. 

As honest as he was, you knew he was hiding information from you. 

“Nanami, I have a question.” 

He continued in silence, your sign to continue. 

“Is Satoru hiding something from me?” 

He pushed his glasses up and came to a stop. 

“It’s not my place to say.” 

That made your stomach drop. 

“I will tell you this, no single functional mind could comprehend that man’s intentions.” 

He continued walking. A shared silence as you felt torn between not wanting to pry, and desperately needing to know more. 

“Whenever we find what we’re looking for, I want you to stay a consistent 20 paces behind me at all time. If you get in the way it could compromise your safety as well as mine.” 

You simply nodded. Far too on edge to properly respond. 

You weren’t going to question his authority, especially when his confidence made you feel at ease. Usually being commanded on what to would have made you livid, but now you could do nothing but listen. It was mostly silence. 

You just kept trudging the seemingly endless tunnel on edge until something happened.

“H-e…lp m…e…” 

A distorted and raspy voice was heard beyond in the darkness.

You froze. Immediately following Nanami’s rule and slowly easing yourself several feet behind him. 

And you’re glad you did, when what you saw made you feel dizzy. 

A creature with four legs and deep purple skin, eyes on opposite side of its head an no neck. 

Without any hesitation or time to process, Nanami sliced across its chest and with a single blow, killed it. It’s body falling limp at his feet as he continued walking. 

You attempted to remain calm. Seeing as how he was, you were scared of what he may think if you freaked out, you couldn’t imagine burdening him during a serious moment and messing things up. 

“Those are what I was talking about, transfigured bodies.” 

“That was once a…” 

You walked by it, footing unsteady, giving one last fleeting glance at the cadaver. 

“Now you see why we need to eliminate this curse.” 

Sudden emotion over took you as you continued walking, remembering its eyes. Human eyes. 

You shook your head. Choosing to not care in the moment. 

That cycle repeated. A monster crosses your path, Nanami slashes it, and you continue down the endless paths of dim tunnels. 

You weren’t exactly a master at this or anything relating, but it didn’t take a genius to notice your comrades growing irritation. 

“Are you okay?” You muttered

“I only wish this curse would show itself. Even if these are disfigured and beyond help, killing humans leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” 

“Oh Good Good!” 

A different voice approached from the darkness; a sudden gut-wrenching feeling overcame.

“I was really worried someone strong would show up. But you two should be easy to experiment on!” 

Nanami seemed unbothered. Pushing his glasses upwards. They stood in an uneasy silence for a moment. Just a moment.

And before you knew it a series of blows were exchanged faster than your eyes could keep up with. You didn’t even see who attacked first.

All you could do was try and stay out of his way. 

The curse suddenly slid back several feet. Wide eyed. 

“Was that some kind of cursed technique? I should’ve blocked it.” 

“What do you mean some kind? I don’t appreciate questions that are left to interpretation” 

“Oh good, seems you don’t mind talking!” 

“That depends on who I’m talking to.” 

“Guess I’m special then huh?” 

This curse oozed a certain arrogance which reminded you eerily of Gojo. 

You stopped breathing when he pointed to you.

“And who’s that then?” 

Nanami stepped further in front of you to block his view. You were honestly shocked he could see you; you were so far back in the darkness that you could barely even tell what was going on. 

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“Emotional support? I guess your job does get pretty tricky huh? Humans can’t handle much.” 

“They're my colleague.” 

He tapped his foot on the ground, seemingly thinking something. 

“Hey what do you think came first? The body, or the soul?” 

You both had a confused look. 

“Y’know like chicken and the egg? Is the soul inside the body, or is the body outside the soul?”

“The former.” 

He was tense. You didn’t like the air around you; the whole situation was awkward. You had been looking at curses as non-human things to ease the guilt and trauma, but to know that they could talk and be coherent, sent you someplace dark. 

“Wrong. The soul always exists before the body.” 

Nanami looked like he could care less. 

“It’s the source of my power. I transform the shape of my soul; it’s not healing or shapeshifting like many believe.” 

Out of nowhere a creature summoned at his hand.

“I make humans small and store them, it’s pretty hard Y’know?” 

You watched as Nanami checked his watch and muttered something under his breath.

“An ordinary person dies after being transfigured. I wonder what will happen to you jujutsu sorcerers…” 

So much had happened you struggled to make sense of any of it. You no longer knew how much time had passed. You would have guessed fifteen minutes- but knew it was probably longer. 

They were ruthless. The punches, the kicks, the blocking and dodging. You felt too appalled to do anything and too interested to look away. 

Somehow this felt familiar to you. Watching it all was like replaying a movie you had seen when you were a young child. Details blurred and specifics unknown, but a certain naturalness came with it once you saw it again. 

“I'm now officially working overtime.” 

Nanami eased his tie, and a sudden shift was felt in the air. 

“So, you have a way to get stronger from fighting past a certain time huh? You’re not half bad.” 

He sported a sickening smile through the entire ordeal. One that made your insides curl.

You watched as the ground beneath Nanami shifted beneath him and lifting him up, another deformed body had been conjured and was serving as an impromptu ledge. He crouched and wiped his thumb across a crying face. 

“I’ve mastered transfiguring souls without killing them. Try not to feel too bad.” 

“I don’t let personal feelings affect my work.” 

It all suddenly hit you. He changes the shape of people into grotesque… things. And all the while they stay fully conscious and feeling. 

“You’re such a terrible liar! About this and your ‘colleague’.” 

A strong sense of justice took over you. 

“So, you just transform people into whatever you want? Just because you look like a freak doesn’t mean everyone else does too!” 

A sudden sense of Deja Vu came over you, remembering when your fear left your body in place of anger when you were fighting that special grade curse. You were no longer yourself, just your emotions. 

Nanami looked back at you shocked, and judging by the curses face, he was as well. 

“Well I’ll be damned. The cheer section has some voice. What rank are you? I hardly defected any cursed energy from you before. I thought you weren’t even a sorcerer!” 

“I don’t have a rank.” 

Nanami sighed. Clearly annoyed at the fighting and provoking. 

“You should get one soon so we can have a proper fight. I’m really looking forward to seeing what would happen to that deformed soul of yours once I get a hold of it.” 

You went to open your mouth.

“That’s enough.” 

Nanami butted in before you two could insult each other again. 

“And what about you my blonde-haired friend? What’s your rank.” 

“Grade 1.” 

“So, you’re strong huh? Perfect for experimentation. Both of you make a fine pair. First, I just have to get rid of the bodyguard!” 

Suddenly, the hand of the curse slammed against Nanami's stomach, flat-palmed. They stood still for a brief moment. 

It felt like time stopped. 

Did he kill him? Was something going to happen? What would happen if Nanami died? You can’t fight this guy by yourself! 

Panic started to set in, and you had to fight every natural instinct telling you to run away. 

“Looks like your soul is being subconsciously protected by cursed energy. But that’s no worry, another 2-3 times you’ll no longer be human!” 

As much as you hated this helpless feeling, you were learning a lot. 

Learning how weak and ignorant you were, and how strong you could be. Nanami was inspiring, unlike Gojo who flaunted strength and barely delivered, Nanami showed and didn’t boast. He simply acted, strength just coming to him, and it suited him well. 

“Y’know you’re getting kind of boring.” 

He looked back to you. 

You felt a breeze hit your face, followed by a hand on your shoulder. 

He was behind you. 

“You’re much more interesting.” 

Nanami gritted his teeth and ran back to you quickly, with a face that could only be described as something between concern and fear. He aimed a critical hit, but his blade was met with nothing, causing him to stumble forward but gracefully compose himself.

The curse was far behind him.

Your knees buckled. You didn’t even see him move, he was well over thirty feet away and he suddenly appeared behind you- you felt your throat tighten and your lungs fail to collect air as the shock subsided.

Your heart started racing, your hands clenched, and face flushed. 

“Well I’ll be damned! Nothing happened when I touched you either!” 

Suddenly, Nanami lunged at the curse, swinging his weapon to which the curse dodged. 

He shouted at you. 

“Hey! Are you aware of your unique soul?” 

You figured it was best to not engage at all. Swallowing a nervous lump in your throat. 

“Your fight is with me, leave them alone.” 

“Why bring them along then? It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that their soul is in a different shape, does it?” 

“A different shape?” 

You muttered out. 

“Yeah! I’ve never seen anything like it. You two are sure an unforgettable pair. I really wonder what would happen if my cursed technique worked on you.” 

“Y/n.” 

Nanami's voice cleared the space of your spiraling thoughts. 

“Leave.” 

You hesitated for a second, before turning around and letting your feet carry out as fast as you could, back where you came in from. You heard fighting and struggling behind you as you disappeared into the dark, not daring to turn around. 

When you reached the entrance, you nearly vomited.

You held your stomach and doubled over, supporting yourself on some near railing, the events finally settling in. 

Everything seemed to be delayed in these slowly turning familiar terrifying circumstances. 

You were panting and shaking- trying desperately to compose yourself. 

“Y/n?” 

You slowly turned your head up trying not to hurl as the images and phrases repeated in your head. 

It was Yuuji, accompanied by a black-haired teen you hadn’t seen before. 

“Are you okay?” 

He looked so concerned.  

“Y-yeah. Just…” 

You felt bile build up in your throat, moving a hand over your mouth and the other to hold up your pointer finger in a ‘one second’ motion. 

The boys looked at each other awkwardly. 

“Just... adapting.” 

“I get it. It was hard for me too, in the beginning.” 

A still silence sat for a moment. 

“Wanna come with us? we could sit down somewhere and maybe get you a drink or something?” 

You slowly nodded your head yes. 

The darker-haired boy didn’t seem to talk at all as you and a Yuuji conversed, maybe he was just shy. You didn't care enough at the moment to ask questions though.

The three of you sat on concrete steps overlooking a river, holding sodas. 

“They were people once. And when I finally found that out, I just couldn’t hold back this feeling of dread.” 

“Yeah. I felt the same way.” 

“How do you do it? Keep it together? You both lived normal lives then suddenly had to throw it all away for monsters and magic.” 

“You don’t have a choice. These things, they’re true evil. They’re not people, and they only exist to kill. And I guess, knowing that they exist and that I can do something about it is better than not doing anything at all.” 

You sat on that. This was a chance for you to better the world, to make a change.

“I guess I never thought about it like that.” 

“And Y’know, you don’t get any awards or medals or credit or anything. No ordinary person will ever know what you do for them, but you have a community to share that with. It’s not like Spider-Man where he goes home every day and has to pretend everything is normal. You have friends who are like you!"

“Did you just compare Jujutsu society to Spider-man?” 

“It works doesn’t it!” He flashed you a smile that made you feel better.

It does.

“I just don’t think I’m ready. Ready to fight… monsters or anything.” 

“Not many people are. I guess I’m an exception because I want to help people more than anything. You just got to find that motivation!” 

What motivates you? 

You wanted to help people. But not as passionately as Yuuji did. You weren’t angry enough to take it out on curses like Gojo suggested, and you weren’t calculated like Nanami where you could treat this like a day-to-day job. 

So why even do this? Self-defense? 

Your head perked up. 

“Answers.” 

Yuuji turned his head over at you in confusion. 

“Huh?” 

“I want answers.” Your fist tightened. 

“I have to go, thank you.” 

Yuuji and the other boy stared at you as you walked off. 

You stormed inside the home after unlocking the front door. 

You took off your shoes and walked past Gojo on the couch. You didn’t utter a single word to him. 

“So, how’d it go?” 

“Tell me the truth.” 

“I asked you a question first.” 

He joked, but quickly his smile dropped as he saw the seething expression on your face. 

“I want answers, Satoru. No more half truths or bullshit.”  

With a blank expression he stood up, walking over to you. 

“What do you want to know?” 

[giyubabe]

out of ur acc content but can you draw him in ur stayle

THANK YOU BESTIE ;]

SAY NO MORE!

His the best sibling ever.

[toj1kuna]

Sukunya