Gojo Satoru finds himself in a time loop that starts on the day he killed Geto Suguru. The answer isn't as easy as he would have liked. There's also the morbid curiosity to see the King of Curses for himself.
**
āTry again,ā Tsumiki commands, āyour nose twitches when youāre thinking. Youāre supposed to concentrate!ā Satoru groans, flopping on his side.
āYou donāt have to go and poke Sukuna, you know.ā Megumi is quick to remind him, eyes sleepy and lazy. āYou could justā¦ do literally anything else?ā
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Itās freeing on the streets. People are scared, but theyāre also praying and lighting fires. Theyāre ready to go with fanfare, ready to hunt and drink until there is nothing left. Greed and violence, Yharnam in its finest clothes. The last celebration. The final hunt.
Still, no one dares to approach Satoru, growling at his white clothes of the Healing Church. Some beg, some cry, but all afraid of his eyes, even if they are covered. There is no one dressed in white in this city who canāt fight good enough to keep those clothes clean.
Blind Trans Gojo x Prodigy (Simp in the Making) Sukuna
(This is a first draft of an idea I had for a while so like. Idek. This idea feels weird cause I donāt particularly enjoy making Gojo weak itās really fucking tempting to let him keep the Six Eyes but honestly Iām not even sure abt Infinity lmao)
****
It was an ongoing debate on whether Sukuna is the reincarnation of the famous curse user, or if it was just an unfortunate coincidence of both the name and thr cursed technique due to the shared bloodline.
Regardless, he became the talk of the jujutsu world from the day he was born: they said he changed the balance of the world with his power. The sorcerer society has placed intense care, money, and surveillance on his family. It was annoying and predictable, but despite Wasukeās greatest efforts he couldnt be the one to protect his child at all times, so he had to acquiesce.
Thankfully, the clans didnāt intervene too much, despite how much the they wanted to put their hands on him. He was promised to Jujutsu High as a student, and when fancy struck he agreed to come the conferences ā its always better to know his enemies beforehand.
Its at the New Year celebration just before high school that Sukuna meets Satoru. This is the first time Sukuna has seen anyone from Gojo clan who wasnāt the head. The esteemed and wise Gojo Asahi proudly introduced his wife and daughter, leaving them alone almost immediately.
It was a rather open secret Gojo Asahi was sick, with no heirs to replace him. People whispered that Gojos were always too picky with their spousesā it was a blessing his wife wasnāt a distant relative, truly.
Sukuna didnāt know Satoru then, but even he could tell that the girl looked uncomfortable, unseeing milky eyes trembling. The Kami compound is probably an unknown territory for her, forced to clutch her motherās sleeve and appear all the more submissive. Their stupid fucking hierarchy.
āYouāre going to catch a cold.ā He gruffed when he met her later outside, standing in the snow. She turned to him with a smile, all polite and placating and his teeth almost rotted at the sight. She was tall but skinny like a tree branch, all the things that clans prefer in their women, aside from the height, and her cursed energy quiet, carefully hidden. Like from a pitcure book, white hair and eyelashes, milky white unseeing eyes, dressed in light blue of her clan.
Sickeningly feminine, just like jujutsu society likes them. āIām going closer.ā He announced just to be sure and she giggled at him before catching herself and quieting down again.
A silence settled and Sukuna wished she saw his raised eyebrow to know he doesnāt need her damned clan manners. That giggle was more real than the whole evening.
Heās so used to relying on his face to provide his thoughts that Sukuna now feels unsure of himself. How do you telegraph your immediate emotions to someone who can only hear your voice?
It would be so easy to hide each and every reaction from her, his every thought. The best witness.
āWhat, Gojo?ā
He knew well he wasnāt sensible. That was always Jin, always knew how to behave how to politely stand his mind. A kid in school said Sukuna has a demon face right before he broke his nose. And Sukunaās voice has never made anyone feel better. Only makes sense it wonāt make a Gojo princess know what he means.
But no, she turned to him with a smile blooming on her pale face.
āYouāre a charmer, Itadori Sukuna. But I donāt get cold!ā She giggled before stepping into the snow. She left no footprints, like a ghost. Does sheā¦ have a cursed technique? Her energy expanded from her body, as if a makeshift way of sensing obstacles. āBut you have to keep it a secret!ā Her voice was shrill, awfully high-pitched ā Sukuna found himself hoping it wasnāt always like this.
A secret, she says. Is that Infinity?
āI will if you tell me your name.ā He replied without thinking about it. She canāt see his unfriendly face or his cursed energy that leaves fire and blood everywhere he goes.
Not that Sukuna is struggling with making friends. But there is just something about the Gojo heir that makes Sukuna wonder if there is more under this hyperbolized performance of vulnerability. He needs to know.
āYou donāt know it?ā She asked, incredulous. āNaoya screams it every time we meet. Thinks weāll get married or something.ā She huffed, fully closing her eyes.
Sukuna knows blindness can be different. But it doesnāt seem like she sees anything: she turned her head into his direction when he came but slightly too much to the right, and never seemed to correct that.
Is it rude to offer her a hand? Is there an etiquette for those things? He has no idea, really. Like damn, itās not like he thinks sheās not capable. But wouldnāt it be more embarrassing for her to face plant into the snow? That celebratory kimono looks heavy.
āWhy would I care about what he spews from his mouth?ā At that she giggled again, now more freely, delighted with his crudeness. They must handle her with gloved hands if she finds Sukuna of all people funny.
āTrue! Finally someone else can see that.ā She giggles again at his uncomfortable silence. āMy friends call me Satoru. The Gojo heir.ā She smiled ā an open question on where they stand. Everything is a power play with sorcerer clans, Sukuna has long realised. Accepting her means forging a deeper relationship with the Gojos while forfeiting with the others. Heās going to make her position stronger if they come back together into the hall ā he would be playing fully into her hand.
It takes a moment too long for Sukuna to recognise her words and a distinctly male person she refers to herself with. Satoru seems to recognise it as a rejection, as her ā his? ā lips thin out from a grin into the polite mask it was before.
And Sukunaā Sukuna is intrigued. He has been to those gatherings before, and he has never been greeted by anything less than perfection, less than the idealised idea of what clans want the world to look like. Servants bowing low to the floor, afraid to raise their heads, those of less noble blood treated like dirt.
Its not like Sukuna cares, not really. But itās wrong, his old man would have raised hell if he was allowed here.
They fear Sukunaās strenght and whisper about the return of the Ryomen clan, but they donāt respect him.
Which makes no sense because who are they to tell him what to do, who to marry and how to live? They have no power over him, and he doesnāt understand how they put the nobility over power, but he will show them. Heās going to be the top of their world, heās going to make their blood mean nothing.
āIām not your friend, Gojo.ā The princess bites her lip and moves to walk away, now leaving prints on the snow. All the joy and power leaving in one fell swoop.
Itās not pity, but itās a close thing. The Gojos are feeble and weak and havenāt bothered Sukuna as much as the others. They keep to themselves and if this is an elaborate ploy to sell Satoru to Sukuna as a bride then itās a badly executed one.
Who wants their future children to be strong but blind? Thatās dumb. The clans want results, want strong heirs. They want to pimp someone perfect to Sukuna to gain power.
āBut I think we can work it out as two guys, huh?ā Satoru stops in his steps and Sukuna is kinda worried he messeed it up, but not really. No one will risk a scandal with him.
But surely Satoru wouldnāt use a different name and pronouns if he didnāt want Sukuna to use them?
āI guess we could!ā That grin returns back, as well as cursed energy, and Satoru tries and fails to grap his hand, forcing Sukuna to gently offer his elbow. Itās going to be a disaster when they walk back hand in hand.
His father us going to be so mad he fell for the schemes of the clans.
He didnāt, this is his scheme, for Sukuna is too strong for them to rule him. But heāll allow them to think so. Satoru is weak enough to never be able to hurt him, and submissive enough for the clans to never find a fault. A perfect distraction, a blind wife. A weak spot, a blinding target.
I think the main reason i still want to write my nogitsune stiles sciles despite having this idea for like five years is just cause like. Like can you. Can you imagine with me like for a second? Scott gets bitten, its a full moon he canāt control himself he felt violent for days now and heās afraid heās going to hurt his mother or someone else and he doesnāt want to but he also does. Heās in the forest in the night, going mad, alone like he always was ever since theo moved
And suddenly someone stumbles on him and giggles at his struggle and taunts him and they smell weird. Empty, dangerous, really dangerous, that growling thing inside of him doesnāt fear anything but it is cautious of this one. Cautious enough to let him have some control. That someone calls himself Miscief and laughs at his misery but also helps, tells him heās a werewolf now. Makes him control his breathing oh so carefully, snapping at him when his claws grow dangerously close. Miscief says theyāre best buddies now heās going to help Scott. And drives away on his jeep
And Mischief is out there on the road with no family or home, mother long dead, left him only with a car and hunger inside. Every supernatural thing in big cities wants to kill him the moment they see him. No one likes the smell of void. He hurts those he feeds from, he has no idea where heās from. But there was strange pull into this town, and he heard enough about Nemeton and druid mojo to at least try. He didnāt expect to stumble onto a newly turned werewolf. Heās so so hungry and he was admitted into high school despite suspicions lack of home or adults, but there is also nowhere for him to go. He might stay here for a while, it would be bad to feed just off anyone. Heās also out of the fucking gas
Thatās how Sheriff finds him, a bit lightheaded after seeing a painfully familiar jeep parked and a lunky teenager barely an adult inside
Mischief smiles and heās so so weak heās weaker than normal humans after starving for so long, but there has to be something his nature can do, and itās a careful polite nudge into the correct direction. To his surprise, the sheriff doesnāt leave when he tells him to. Mischief inhales and the Sheriff smells like the perfect meal, an old wound that has been bleeding for a long time. Suffering potent and strong and unrelenting, with a faint smell of liquor. He takes a risk: says if the Sheriff is oh so worried, Mischief can go home with him. Instead of advancing towards something more carnal, the Sheriff looks at him like heās sick or half desd. Which heās not, thanks. Questions are easy: no he doesnāt know his mother, only has that jeep. Grew up in foster care. Can take care of himself. Whatever. Sheriff lets him into his home with some polite nudge. Nogitsune tricks are good for stuff like that
Mischief doesnāt take much, but when the sheriff sleeps he eats away some of his pain to take the edge off. It shouldnt give any side effects aside from maybe some nightmares ā he doesnāt even have to touch the man for that, the suffering is so potent around him. Stale, old, but not scubbed over. Better than nothing, better than feeling as frail as a newborn
Somehow, the Sheriff lets him take up the room for a while, with no ever words of throwing him out. Mischief goes to school, hounds on Scott to breathe correctly because he only has the minimum knowledge of werewolves and also tries to understand where the rogue alpha evev is. The whole town is soaked in misery, which is perfect for Mischief but probably less so for everyone else. It takes a month before the Sheriff puts adoption papers in front of him, determined. Mischief thinks its dumb but if the man is a masochist then so be it. They dub him Stiles a week later and it weirdly fits
Like do you see my vision. Do you see Stiles being Scottās only support in this case and shamelessly using that to cling to because he has nothing of his own, because he doesnāt even know what to do here? He reeks of void, the moment something here realises what he is heāll die. Do you see Stiles, still a child, desperate enough to use manipulation and mind tricks on John to stay only to realise the man really does want him to stay?
So you see my vision, Scott easily letting Stiles eat away his pain to ease his hunger, to make him less pale and frail and sickly? Do you see Stiles being convinced heās the evil incarnate because he had killed in his life, because heās always a monster at the end of the day and Scott accepting him. Do you see how fucking everything and everyone tell Scott he grew the short end of the stick by being stuck with a void fox but heās so over it? Even if Stiles didnāt have the best intentions he was still the best support he had, the one who chose to help him. Do you see how protective Scott would be? How paranoid Stiles would be heās gonna be left alone? How much more heās protective of Scott, how afraid to be left behind? How he makes a face every time heās scented but he also belongs and its weird but good??
DO YOU SEE MY VISION??? Yeah. Fucking five years in the oven
I find it insanely funny how im pretty sure most people like my fem labru au cause of like the lesbians and the horror of a housewife defeating a demon, and the pining, meanwhile the most exciting part of it for me is writing the postpartum depression im sorry
Its just such an underrepresented thing to me. Pregnancy and birth is horrific in the process, but there is always the after, and its in no way shape or form the fault of the person who gave birth. Like this is a common phenomenon. And i find it a very interesting theme to write cause its not black and white, youre full of contempt but also objectively you understand its not the childās fault
I personally dont think the pregnancy or birth would have been too traumatic to Laios in a sense of physical alterations, if anything she would indeed find it fascinatinf. The problem comes with the good old āpeople have too much attitude when it comes to a body of a pregnant womanā thing which uh. I may not have been pregnant, but it is deeply uncomfortable how sometimes elders think its okay to touch you. A lot of people assume touching a pregnant personās stomach without asking is fine. Its kind of a staggering loss of body autonomy
So yeah i think Laios would hate that. Also the problems would come after the birth because sheās deeply uninterested in the child, she doesnāt wake up when it cries. She cares, she knows she does, but everything she sees when looking at it is her husband and for some reason that makes her nauseous.
Ok the next part is kind of spoilery for my au??? But since i have too much shit to write as it is im gonna put it here and everyone needs to act surprised when you see it written in a fic ok ok?? Deal.
Anyway, I think Kabru has been particularly worried about the infant, seeing Laios like that, and when she was stealing her away she was very much afraid how that was gonna go. Laios leaving the child in the village would technically be better for both of them by any logic, but that doesnāt feel right. But then theyāre in a carriage, and Laios looks unseemingly at the child in her arms and asks Kabru what her fatherās name was to give it to the child. And Kabru is like WHAT thats not the way to do itā
And Laios turns to her with tired eyes and says that she wants this child to be something more than its father. She wants for it to symbolise the fact thar Laios got out. She wants it to symbolise their friendship, she wants it to have a piece of Kabru. Also its a way to honour Utaya even though its gone. And Kabru feels guilty but still agrees and tells her and Laios smiles and hugs the infant closer, humming a melody
Its still not perfect, not by a long shot, and sometimes Laios just forgets heās here, but at least thereās no hatred. Slowly, very slowly, she starts to like him. He sleeps soundly in between her and Kabru on the bed, better than he ever slept in her arms. He eats well and often, and cries to remind her that he does indeed need food. He even smiles at her, and he has dimples like her husband Kabru. Heās not a perfect child, but sheās also not a perfect mother so they match. Kabru helps her with cutting her hair short cause heās taken a liking to yanking it, and looking in the mirror like that feels good. She would have never been allowed to have such short hair at home. Its so much easier to look at him and think of Kabru, to ignore the way he was created. Maybe like this she can even love him
Um yeah. Yeah. By my headcanons this boy is fucking feral btw when he grows up. Heāll have a younger sister that was born after Laios was changed due to demonās actions so sheās not quiet fully human and has an uncommon affinity to magic, but this guy?? Oh, heād take a demon barehanded any day i love him already
I might have been like traumatised but the 10th kingdom idk. Give it a watch its great
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uhhh. sukugo porn? a little? as a treat in these trying times?
Relationship:
Gojo Satoru/Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna
Summary:
A one-shot addition to my other fic 'What a world to live in' but can be read as a stand-alone.
****
āShould have told me youāre feeling lonely, Six Eyes.ā He teases easily and Satoru wants to be offended, but the groping is nice, and heās too tired. Then Sukunaās left hand slips just under his shorts, nail grazing the sensitive head of his dick and Satoru hisses, grasping it. But his hips still cant in the air, not caught up with the program. āI know, I know.ā Sukuna huffs, shaking off his hand easily. āYouāll be fine. Relax. Let it go, Satoru.ā He grumbles, so scarily soft, and Satoru lets him drag his shorts and underwear down, hisses when Sukuna nuzzles his inner thighs. Itās good, but itās still a lot.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
idk dude i was in a mood. annoying sukugo be upon ye
What a world to die in
Summary:
A one-shot addition to my other fic 'What a world to live in' .
******
The night before Satoru died Tsumiki wheeled him outside to look at the stars with her, and that might just have been the last nail in his coffin. Maybe he would have lived a few days more if she didnāt. Maybe not. They stared up to the sky in comfortable silence, with Sukuna being just at the corner of her eye, angry and pissed and still so horribly in love with Satoru it ate him from the inside out.
To say that sheās planning a funeral would be a bit of an overstatement: Satoru wanted a party instead of any other kind of memorial. Wanted for them to get together and celebrate what they had and what the future could bring.
