#🀥 all curses go to... earth?

[alientimes]

🀥 ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ… ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ?

➩ "being a human sucks!"

➩ sukuna x gn reader // reincarnation

➩ synopsis ✰ After being punched and kicked and hammered into a weird goop, and then dying (as a curse!), Sukuna wakes up. But now he's in a field of grass, in normal clothes, and feeling a little different. After searching through his new pockets, he finds a wallet, and inside that, an ID card… for Sebastian Ryouke. Same pink hair- but his other two arms are missing, as well as his neat little second face. And checking the rest of the wallet, he finds a whole lot of money. And a credit card. (But with the economy these days, is it really all that much?) Now, as much as he hates it, he has to deal with this. It's time to find some living arrangements. With a roommate, as it unfortunately turns out.

➩ warnings ✰ profanity, jjk spoilers

𝟶𝟷:𝟶𝟶 ✰ No good curse likes a nice view! (𝟷)

𝟶𝟸:𝟶𝟶 ✰ Who dyed this guy's hair? (𝟷, 𝟸)

𝟶𝟹:𝟶𝟶 ✰ It must suck to you find out you're fictional. (𝟷, 𝟸, 𝟹)

𝟶𝟺:𝟶𝟶 ✰ I can't believe these guys don't recognize me. (𝟷)

𝟶𝟻:𝟶𝟶 ✰ You're not really interesting. (𝟷, 𝟸, 𝟹, 𝟺)

𝟶𝟼:𝟶𝟶 ✰ One arm, two arms, three arms, four arms! (𝟷, 𝟸, 𝟹, 𝟺, 𝟻)

𝟶𝟽:𝟶𝟶 ✰ Since when did curses throw parties? (𝟷)

[alientimes]

🀥 ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ… ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ?

➩ No good curse likes a nice view! (1)

Last thing Sukuna knew, he was being pummeled into the ground by some stupid brat and his friends. It was all an unlucky turn of fate, of course, but it still happened. He was dead. He should’ve been dead. Hell, he felt his body turn to dust. So why was he staring at a stupidly cheery blue sky in the middle of nowhere? 

Slowly, Sukuna sat up. A (rather nice, he had to admit) field of grass could always have enemies (perhaps some named Gojo) lurking in them, of course. To his disappointment, there were none. He patted himself down, noting the lack of two, rather useful, extra arms. Instead of being in his beautiful, shirtless, loose-white panted glory, he was in some stupid white t-shirt and very tight jeans. That somehow, after noticing an odd feeling under him, could fit stuff in miniscule pockets. The stuff mentioned so happened to be a wallet, and it was one he thought was way too plain to fit the king of curses. Still, he flipped it open, revealing a thick wad of green papers stuffed into yet another miniscule pocket (compared to the money). Though it wasn’t quite useful to him, as it appeared to be USD, and he was in the middle of nowhere. A flimsy card slipped out of another pocket (how many of these were there?) and after trying and failing to pick it up a couple of times, he found it was an ID card. He had seen a few of those in the brat’s body.

Since when was his name Sebastian?

How shameful. The once great, strong(est), powerful king of curses Sukuna Ryomen reduced to some random guy with pink hair, one face, and only two arms named Sebastian Ryouke. Well, at least he was still tall. And it seemed he could read English now, because he managed to puzzle his way through the entire ID card. It might need a little work, though. 

With all these downsides, Sukuna could hardly believe that this was another chance at life. Another form of punishment, maybe. But as he sat cross-legged in that field (for a little longer than he would admit, looking back on it), Sukuna came to another realization. This was a chance. Although he had never been interested in human politics, laws, and whatnot, not like Kenjaku was, he could certainly get into it now. How hard could it be to rise to the top within a couple of weeks (or months, but that was being generous)? He had thousands of years of experience. And these flimsy humans? Maybe twenty. Taking over would be easy. He could start another empire of being the best, the strongest! And this time, in an entirely different country and a new name, there would be no Gojo Satoru, Maki Zen’in, Yuta Okkotsu to stop him. There wouldn’t even be an Itadori Yuji or Fushiguro Megumi (he thought with a shudder). And would you look at that? Just past the disgustingly bright rows of flowers, a city. Not just a town, or a village. A whole city of people to manipulate. Of people to beat up. Of people to bow down to him. It was the best starting place he could think of. All he needed was to get there. Well, that and getting a place to live. It couldn’t be that hard, with all the money he had stacked up in his wallet, right?. He even had a credit card (also gained knowledge from Itadori). It was like whatever placed him here wanted him to go right back to the way he was, and it was great. This was going to be so easy. City domination would be easy. And his first step, house hunting, would be even easier.

i'm sorry it's so short 😭😭 i have school tomorrow and it's really late and this entire thing was acted on impulse 😭 next chapter will be a lot longer i promise! i'll try to get it out by next week at the latest but sadly no promises :(

all curses go to earth masterlist

[alientimes]

🀥 ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ… ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ?

➩ Who dyed this guy's hair? (2)

The clock was ticking. In less than thirty minutes, your new roommate would be knocking on that door and there was nothing you could do about it. As much as you would’ve liked to avoid the encounter, it would make a horrible impression if you did. And you feared that maybe a little bit more than you feared talking to people. And you adored impressions so much to the point you forced yourself to organize your room, even though it would be ridiculous for him to take a peek inside. You’d put together your best fit, but for the love of god, you hoped he’d take his shoes off inside the house. You’d look weird if he didn’t, and the amount of dirt you’d have to sweep up would be criminal. Now, you didn’t want to bring it up, of course, but if he did maybe some unspoken judgment and guidance could help him in the right direction. Only if he didn’t. 

You glanced up at the clock, and within your time spent rethinking your life choices, fifteen minutes had passed and now you were down to pacing back and forth, full of anxiety. It made the wait so much worse, but you couldn’t help but glance back to the clock time and time again, and the wait was both nerve-wracking and relieving. You would’ve calmed down if you could’ve, but social standards were so high nowadays you just wanted to impress. Any moment now would the clock hit 2:30 and you would hear the jingling of keys and the door would swing open. You forced yourself to sit down, but even then you had to move, foot rapping against the floor. God it would be so embarrassing if he heard it from outside, if he could. Of course, you still had ten minutes, but in your opinion that was ten minutes too many. Would it hurt for him to be a little late? Five minutes? Ten? An hour? It wasn’t something you’d usually ask for, but now you were praying this guy had a bad sense of time management.

Almost as if on cue, you hear the all-too-telling squeak of the door (you really needed to oil the hinges) and the creak of the floor as he stepped in. You sprung up, almost tripping over yourself as feelings of intense resentment for him rose in your mind. Of course he had to be early. It appears whatever’s listening chose to take a blind eye (or ear) to your prayers, and maybe did the opposite of them instead just for a kick. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

However, despite what you might’ve thought, Sukuna only came early because he was bored out of his mind with nothing else to do, and thought he might as well get set up a little early. It definitely wasn’t planned with even a little spite involved. Absolutely not. He was over that, of course. In fact, he’d never felt spite before! That was ridiculous.

Well, either way, now Sukuna was standing at your (his) doorstep ten minutes earlier than planned. Luckily, he had his keys, and was quick to step inside. It didn’t take long for someone to come bounding (read: trudging) up to him, greeting him with a forced smile. “Hi,” they said. Really, if they were going to force a smile, they should at least try to make their tone a little more convincing. “I’m Y/N. Your new roommate.” Sukuna did a quick glance over you, and couldn’t help but feel you were almost… plain. At least, compared to the people that brat knew. And he didn’t even have to glance to tell he could take you down without a second thought if he needed to. Always good information to know, of course. After a few seconds, Sukuna noticed you were just awkwardly standing around, and so graciously decided he could introduce himself back. “I’m Su-Sebastion, yes. Do you have a room prepared for me, or am I going to have to do it myself?” Whoops, he almost messed up there. He didn’t know what you’d think if he introduced himself by the wrong name. Kick him out? He didn’t have enough money left to afford that. While you calling the police would’ve normally been the easy way out, now that he (painfully has to admit) isn’t anywhere near as strong as he used to be, he certainly wouldn’t be able to take them all out in a fight. You, sure. Maybe even a couple more ridiculous humans. Unfortunately, guns had to be invented, and he can’t regenerate from injuries with reversed curse technique anymore. He checked.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Well, the ‘Su-Sebastian’ part was a bit odd, but you never know what other names people might have. Perhaps he was of another nationality, but had an English name that he went by here in America. You try not to judge. Other than that, he seemed kind of… quiet, which you appreciated. Maybe nonchalant was a better word, or even high, but whatever. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to change that at 2 AM. You’ve had some bad experiences. Still, the thing you most judged him for (it’s really hard not to judge it), was his hair. He kind of gave rich kid vibes (the ‘do you have a room prepared for me’ part was still getting to you), and yet couldn’t afford a good hair job? His bangs were uneven, he had random wisps of hair everywhere, and you could see those untouched roots. You wondered how long it had been since he last dyed his hair.

After a couple of seconds, you similarly realized you unfortunately had to respond. Awkwardly, you told him “Your room’s down the hall. The door’s propped open.” You pointed in its direction, praying you actually remembered to close your door earlier. Well, either way, he would see the amount of stuff you had strewn all over your room, and hopefully avoid it. Maybe your messiness was a good thing (you doubted it)!

After you glanced back at him, desperately hoping he was moving towards the direction of his room so you could escape this suffocating situation (your hopes were shattered when you saw he wasn’t), you noticed he had like, one suitcase. Other than that, no luggage. Like, literally none. He didn’t even have a backpack. You didn’t even bring that little on a two day trip. Burning with curiosity, you asked “Is the rest of your stuff coming tomorrow?” before you could stop yourself. Great, now if he actually didn’t have any stuff you just made him feel horrible. What if he just got disowned by his maybe incredibly rich parents? Think, Y/N, think! However, before you could spiral more, he thankfully just tilted his head and kind of glared down at you. Actually, maybe that isn’t something you should be grateful for.

“...Yeah,” He responded. You silently let out a sigh of relief, trying not to show too much of it. You looked back up at him, and he didn’t seem confused, insulted, or anything. He just seemed like he was searching for the most sensible thing to say (you had a lot of experience in that). Actually, something about him seemed a little off, now that you thought about it. You had just met, but some of his mannerisms seemed weird, like he wasn’t sure how to act. That wasn’t something completely unusual, of course, but it wasn’t in an ‘I’m-not-from-around-here’ way. It was in an ‘I’m-an-old-geezer’ kind of way, but not just an old geezer. An old geezer. Wait, maybe that was mean. You should probably stop thinking that. 

Of course, stopping yourself from thinking that effectively shut down any thought that something just wasn’t quite right about this (tall) man named Sebastian as well.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Was that slang? Sukuna thought that was slang. Really, he did not spend enough time listening to the brat’s conversations to pick up on modern-day slang, and this was even worse (he had spoken about two words to you and almost no slang was used). Now you even had him thinking about luggage. To keep up appearances, he should probably buy some things. Furniture. Decorations. Maybe some of those Jennifer Lawrence posters the brat had up, because surely that was a sensible thing for someone to have in their room. 

Sukuna took a look over to where you had pointed. Sure enough, there was one… two open doors. Handy. Despite this horrible lack of clarification from you (you wouldn’t have survived a day in the Heian era), he rolled his suitcase (handy invention, he had to give you humans that) down the hall. The first door was full of stuff, and from your lack of confirmation about setting up his room, he was forced to assume it was yours. Continuing down the hall, he had the sudden thought that it would be quite inconvenient if he didn’t have a mattress.

He didn’t have a mattress. A strong sense of rage boiled up in him, and he cursed the idiotic designer that made this apartment. Who put in a bed frame with no mattress? Only idiots, of course. That much was clear. “Um…” Sukuna almost jumped at your voice, and cursed himself at that. How could he be scared by some puny human? How dull had his senses gotten? Why did you follow him? Angrily, he turned around, fast enough to see you shrink away slightly at the sight of his face (did you find him ugly? Were you that horrified by him? Why did he care so much about someone’s reaction to his face? He already knew he was worth and looked nothing.). “What do you want?” He demanded, crossing his arms. In turn, you hooked your fingers together, lowering your arms and head. “Uh, Sebastian, right?” (Did you always have to stutter with ums and uhs?) “Do you… not have a mattress?” As if he didn’t feel pathetic enough. What a sorry turn of events. Still, he had to sigh and agree. “Unfortunately, it appears I do not.” You glanced around the room, at what he did not know, before laying your eyes back to him. Or rather, to the floor in front of him. “Would you like… to sleep on the couch? Or, my bed if it’s more comfortable? I can sleep on the couch.” Why did you offer your own bed? Was it intimate? Or were you just stupid? You obviously weren’t truly entertaining the idea of lending your bed to him, but now that you had suggested it, Sukuna wasn’t about to turn you down.

“I must thank you, and I will take up on your offer. I’ll sleep on your bed until I… my mattress arrives.” Don’t try to hide it, he could see that grimace on your face. Human, at least be honest about it. And he could hear that sigh. You should be grateful he pretended not to notice. He supposes he himself should be grateful you don’t protest. After all, it is basically still your home with how little he is moved in. That will switch soon, of course, but he can be courteous.

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

In a couple hours, Sukuna was settled in, and was chowing down on some of your edible ‘snacks’ (he never ate such things in the Heian era, but that brat certainly did.). You were rushing all around him, muttering something about “Work” and “Stupid night shift” and “No way she invited me to a party knowing I have to work”. Quite disturbing, if you asked him. He watched you apathetically, though found your scurrying about somewhat amusing. It reminded him of a mouse, or a rabbit. Rabbits, he liked the taste of. Mice, not so much, but you could live off them. Some might consider them a delicacy, but they obviously had never tried cannibalism. 

You tugged on your shoes, and he once again found it amusing how you grew practically five centimeters in height. Humans these days. You grabbed your keys (he found himself hoping they were yours, not his. It would be annoying if they weren’t, of course), and unlocked the door, even going so far as to open it before you stopped and scrambled back to him. You held out an odd rectangle, screen flashing brightly. “Here, give me your number so I can contact you if I can’t get back or if I get stuck outside,” you say. Sukuna blinked, pulling back slightly. His number? Were you humans all assigned numbers at birth? Was that how society was done nowadays? “...What?” At his confusion, you seemed confused, which confused him further, and so on and so forth. “Your phone,” you suggested slowly (and infuriatingly). “Give me your phone so I can put my number in, then.” Sukuna could only stare at you, mouth hanging open slightly. Handily, any memory of Itadori using a phone (the few times he actually did) immediately flew from his mind, leaving him with nothing.

What on earth was a phone?

oh my god i did it

im sorry it took so long but 2k words yay!!! im so inconsistent with my work effort i wrote like 400 words on saturday and crammed the rest in today because i wanted to get it done

not entirely happy with the result (?) cuz it's kinda rushed but i hope yall enjoyed!

i hate dialogue so much please i can't

part 1 of Who dyed this guy's hair?

all curses go to earth masterlist

[alientimes]

🀥 ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ… ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ?

➩ Who dyed this guy's hair? (1)

House hunting was not easy.

Sukuna had come to this sad, sad realization after plopping himself down at an internet café and discovering the wonder of web surfing. Unfortunately, he also learned that humans loved taxes and expensive prices just as much as they liked food. And although he certainly had a lot of money, it was nowhere near enough to get him a house. Or even an apartment. No, he came to the horrible conclusion that he had to room with someone. Honestly, the mere thought was the most disgusting thing in his life, after the brat. But if he were to complete his goal of world domination, it had to be done.

At that point, he was so worn out from all this hard work he just accepted the first offer he saw. His sole glance at it showed it didn’t seem that bad, and at least had two separate bedrooms (which some strangely didn’t offer). He didn’t even check who his roommate would be, and honestly, he didn’t even care. If they pissed him off, he could just kill them, and really, if they were so broke they had to room with someone else, no one would notice if they just disappeared one day. He had the quick thought to just kill them right away, but remembered soon after you had to continue paying rent. 

This whole situation was a shame, sure, but he had plenty of experience sharing space with someone. Although he was only in Itadori’s (the brat’s) body for a couple of months, it was more than enough time to teach him how annoying this was going to be. Even worse, he couldn’t just sit around now. While being bored for a thousand or so years was excruciatingly painful, every moment he had to watch that boy’s dumb decisions was a hundred times worse. Still, there was no way in heaven or earth that it could be as bad as sharing a body with someone. After all, you couldn’t get any more close-contact-yet-unable-to-kill with someone. If he tried hard enough (which he probably wouldn’t, a thousand years of laying around did that to you), he could probably avoid seeing them altogether. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to ask them to cook and clean, could it? Uraume did it easily, after all…

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Unsurprisingly, you don’t get a scholarship for life. While it would be nice if it did, your savings on money ended after college. Now you had to go back to exactly what you hated: rooming. Now, not all roommates were bad, of course, but you had a track record for having not just bad, but horrible ones. Unfortunately, you didn’t have enough money to rent by yourself, let alone buy your own house, even with all the (read: no) money you saved. And you certainly didn’t want to live with your parents. But on the lucky side, someone agreed to be your roomie fairly quickly, so you didn’t have to face any kind of disapproval, and you didn’t have to live in a caravan you somehow couldn’t afford. 

Your sure to be new best friend didn’t come with a photo, but they did have a name. Sebastian… Sebastian something. You didn’t bother to look at his last name. You thought he had a proper identity, but without the photo, your mind spun up scenarios of serial killers. But that was just you overthinking it. The chances of him being a horrible murderer were basically zero. Of course, basically zero wasn’t exactly zero, but the chances were so slim you managed to push it out of your mind. Well, more like forget about it within five minutes because you became so anxious about your first impression with this guy.

Speaking of first impressions, you were becoming more and more certain that this one would be horrible. Horrendous, in fact. Unspeakable, if you were being generous. You weren’t exactly known for your social adeptness, after all. You’d even call yourself a (anxious) yapper. What if you talked his ear off so much he pushed you out a window, or didn’t manage to sprout a single word, and made the entire situation awkward? What were Sebastians even like, anyways? You had never met a Sebastian before. Were they nice? Mean? Chill? Serial killers? Who knows? Only Sebastians, you presumed.

Most of all, you really, really hoped he didn’t judge you for your interests. Now, it was common decency to, at the very least, not show that you didn’t like something your roommate did, but clearly your anxiety didn’t know that. And it wasn’t like you liked anything too weird, either (or at least, you assumed)! Just a couple of mainstream things, Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayer, Chainsaw Man… well, maybe your interests skewed a little more to the bloody side, but they weren’t all like that! You could settle for a few comedies, and you watched a good show on Netflix every so often (Would sharing your Netflix password make him like you more?). 

And now your anxiety was ramping up even more. Maybe this isn’t the right thing to do, but you’re not a therapist. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, and buried all those frantic thoughts in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind, along with some other things that actually belonged there. At least you didn’t have to worry about mixing up stuff and unpacking at the same time, because you had already done that. Great, now you were wondering if you should help him unpack his stuff. Really, this shouldn’t be something to overthink about.

chat i don't know how house hunting (also roommate dealings) work pls don't come after me

also it's actually longer (by abt 300 words) yay!!! <3 actually did a goal i set for myself for once

sorry it's late tho lol

part 2 to Who dyed this guy's hair?

all curses go to earth masterlist