#one sentence from gojo made him attempt murder

[avnasace]

geto we need you to choke kenny for real this time do it for gojo

[anaer]

wip wednesday (july 24 24)

the continued adventures of the time travel fix it fuck it up fic

in which gojo ends up back in time and decides its time for a hostile takeover

sukugo/stsg, rating: dramatic gay messes

“You know, you’re just…so…fucking—!”

Instead of finishing that sentence, Satoru grabbed Geto by the shirt and yanked him in, slamming their lips together. Geto squawked indignantly for half a second before his brain caught up to the fact that Satoru was attempting to shove his tongue into his mouth and he remembered this was something he was always down to go along with.

Satoru pulled back. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I hate how much I missed you. You are honestly the worst person I have ever known.”

He was so dramatic all the time. So what that Geto wanted to murder a scant few billion people? “Didn’t you just say Ryoumen Sukuna killed you?” Not that he believed him, but whether Satoru had lost it or not, how in the world was he, Geto Suguru, worse than the supposed worst curse in all history?

“Yeah, and he wasn’t half as obnoxious as you, actually.”

Satoru sighed, the deep, longsuffering kind of sigh of reminiscing. And then a weird, weird smile crossed his face. Geto was, of course, well versed in the many different kinds of smiles Satoru wore, as someone who was either perpetually smiling or cursed with the worst case of resting bitch face the world had ever seen (except when he was pouting or being pissy, or, on very, very rare occasion – so rare it was barely worth talking about – mad at Geto), but this wasn’t one he could say he’d seen before. It almost looked…dopey, in a lovesick way. Immediately, he felt on edge.

“He was actually…great. Sukuna was just…” He whistled, spreading his arms wide and gesturing in ways that made absolutely no logical sense to anyone not named Gojo Satoru. “He told me I was magnificent, Suguru. I mean, obviously I am – that goes without say – but still. He said it!” Satoru came down from whatever weird high he was definitely on to frown at Geto. “You’ve never told me I’m magnificent.”  

“I don’t think your ego needs it, to be quite honest.”

“Sure, my ego is the problem, Mr. Maniacal Genocidal Cult Leader.”

“I’m not maniacal—”

“Sure you’re not.” Satoru plopped down onto the tatami. Long legs crossed, and he dropped his chin into one hand, still wearing that stupid smile on his face that Geto wanted gone. “Sukuna really got it, though. He recognized exactly how amazing I am, even though I had to humiliate him on live TV first. And then he showed me how much he loved me.”

It seemed Satoru was even more out of his mind than first glance had shown. He was straight up delusional. Not that Geto really knew what being delusional entailed because he personally was not and had never been delusional himself, contrary to what everyone outside of his cult might’ve accused him of. “Did you not say he apparently killed you in whatever delusional acid trip dream you had?”

“It was real, and yes, that’s what I said. He showed me how much he loved me when he killed me.”

“What the fuck are you even saying right now, Satoru.” It wasn’t a question.

Satoru waved him off with the hand not on his face. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. You wouldn’t get it. You’re not on our level. Maybe next year ghost you would get it, since I killed you, which is really the deepest expression of love you can give someone, but current you is still one hundred percent the worst. There’s no way you would understand.”

Geto stared at him, blank faced.

Satoru dropped backwards, plopping down onto the ground with a dramatic groan. “And now I have to wait until June, and do all of that over again. How am I supposed to impress him this time? I can’t just let Japan get destroyed. Not even including the fact that my second favourite sweets café was in Shibuya, I went a whole two months without my premium mikan gummies. Do you know how fucked the grocery stores get when Tokyo has been destroyed by cursed spirits?”

Right. Of course. Geto realised he was in for a less than ideal morning and sat down with his back against the wall. It was probably best just to let Satoru talk himself out and then be about his way. At least he wasn’t trying to punch him anymore. He wished they’d rewind back to the kissing, but Satoru had moved on from that as fast as he moved on from anything.

He was such a pain in the ass.

Satoru hummed dramatically.

Geto continued to stare.

Satoru tilted his head up and arched a pointed eyebrow in his direction.

Geto sighed. “So I’m to understand you let Tokyo get destroyed the first time.” Or whatever. He leaned his head back against the wall, willing sleep to take him again. It wouldn’t as long as Satoru kept talking; he knew this.

“No, I didn’t let it,” Satoru chided. “I got sealed. Which wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t decided to fuck everything up with your Night Parade, by the way, so thanks for that. I figured it’d be fine, but then most of the country was in shambles when I got freed. You’d think the world could survive two weeks without me. Ah, whatever. Not my problem now!” He frowned. “Ugh. Unless it is. Fuck. You know, I was fine with being dead. I was happy with it. This is just bullshit now.”

And then, Satoru propped himself back up on his elbows, staring his way too intense eyes way too intensely into Geto’s. “Hey, Suguru. If you died in the most epic battle of your life, really had a moment with a guy you might be a little in love with,” Geto very nobly did not gag at that, “then woke up, alive, over a year back with none of that having happened and you being alive, too, what would you do?”

Finally. A real fucking conversation. Geto shrugged loosely. “I suppose I’d probably start with—”

“Actually, no, shut up. Why am I asking you? You’re insane. I’m not killing all non-sorcerers.”

Geto’s jaw twitched at the interruption. “Okay, Satoru.” Although…in fairness, yes, that was what he’d been about to suggest. It was still a dick move for Satoru to call him out like that. Then again, Satoru had always been a dick.

“Hey, do you think Sukuna would be impressed if I murdered the higher-ups?”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Dumb Ideas of Satoru Gojo

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: No Curse AU, fluff, attempt at humor, slight hurt/comfort, swearing, mention of lip fillers, Satoru being a dumbass.

Words: 640

Summary: Your silly boyfriend reacts to your lip job.

________

"Baby, why are you wearing a mask at home?" Satoru frowns at you as you're already preparing to roll your eyes, knowing too well what's gonna follow in a second. Ain't no way your boyfriend just gonna leave you be, given he made it his life's purpose to goof around 24/7.

"It's fine," you assure him with a sigh as if it's going to keep Gojo from pestering you, but he's not having it, immediately appearing in front of you with a concerned look on his face.

"What's going on?" He demands abruptly, not lifting your mask off but blocking your way to the kitchen, nonetheless. "What happened to you?"

It would be sweet if you didn't know what would follow the moment you showed him your face. Honestly, if anything, Satoru is a caring boyfriend who does worry about you and your well-being, and you can't pretend like you hate it. However, today is definitely not one of those days when you need help, and it annoys you to no end that you have to show your lips to your boyfriend before he goes ballistic and starts calling ambulance, thinking someone hit you in the face.

"I just..." you awkwardly clear your throat, looking away as you touch your mask, pulling it down with reluctance, "had my lips done."

For a second, Gojo is stunned, looking at you with those unearthly blue eyes of his that make any girl swoon. He blinks, unsure if he heard you right, before his eyes land at your painfully swollen lips, and then you see it: his face contorts like he tries his best not to explode from laughter, shoulders already shaking as he watches you fumble with your shirt.

Asshole.

"Baby, what the..." he can't even finish the sentence, lips wobbling like he gonna burst any second, and you're already mad, putting your mask back on before you hear any more stupid comments. "What is this dumpling on your face?"

Huffing, you slap his shoulder, pushing him away, but Gojo is nothing if not persistent, immediately following you to the kitchen as he cackles behind your back.

"No, seriously, how did you even do this?" He snickers while you open the freezer to get an icepack, a murderous expression on your face. "Did they put bees on your lips?"

He then stops, his lips pursed dramatically into an "o" before he claps his hands in triumph. "Suguru just got into beekeeping! Maybe we can open a lip salon together!"

Your patience is running thin, and you're barely keeping it together, already thinking of beating your dumb boyfriend with an icepack in your hand if he won't shut up. Not that Satoru cares, driving you crazy before you finally snap and throw it at him as he giggles like a schoolgirl, successfully evading the first and the second icepacks, snickering his usual, "Yowai mo~"

He does help you to apply the third icepack, though, and kisses your temple as you seethe, fed up with his antiques, and then he says he's sorry because that's how most of your arguments end. Of course, he didn't mean to upset you. He never does. Laughing it off has been his strategy for the past 15 years or so, and he often reacts like this to anything that even remotely shocks him. It doesn't mean he's mocking you or the choices you make.

"You know I'm gonna love you the same with small or big lips, right?" Satoru asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he's cuddling with you in bed, his hands warming up the small of your back. When you nod, he smiles, dropping the kiss to the tip of your nose before he says, "Listen, but about this bee startup idea..."

He may or may not be sleeping on the couch tonight.

[shaisuki]

THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU FLIRT WITH MY GIRL

ft. itadori yuuji, megumi fushiguro, nanami kento, gojo satoru

content warnings ─── flirting, being catcalled, creeps.

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ think twice before you flirt with a sweet looking thing. you will never know what kind of disaster is coming for you.

ITADORI YUUJI

this was the least of your worries. you wouldn't expect a stranger would hit on you on the busiest streets of tokyo while your boyfriend is retrieving his wallet in the theatre seats.

this man can't take no for an answer and your patience is thinning out. “yuujiiii, where are you?” you called out to him in your mind. god forbid you'll slap the shit out of this man.

you kept your distance away from the man. what innocent asking for directions turned to be a flirtations of sort and you don't like it. not a bit.

“why so mean to me, darling?” you cringed at the tone of his voice and the nickname he gave you. you politely smiled at him.

“please leave me alone, sir.”

the man only chuckles, his hand attempting to grab you but he was stopped when a furious itadori appeared. his grip on the man tightened who was hitting on you.

“touch her and i'll break your arm.” itadori warns, his brown eyes glimmers with rage and the man squirmed, his expression changing from cocky to frightened.

“okay, man. okay.” his voice shaky while he pulls his arm held by itadori and when itadori let go. he runs immediately with his tail between his legs.

itadori's murderous aura shifted to a worried one. his hand holding your arms, your neck and to your face. checking for any injuries that the man had inflicted to you but you only held his hands.

“yuuji, no harm done and thank you for saving me.” a little-teary eyed from the earlier scuffle.

itadori pouts.

“i'm sorry for leaving you.”

“itadori, it's not your fault, okay?” wrapping your arms in his neck and itadori pulled you closer to him. his muscular body pressed against your soft.

“bu-” your lips connects to his before he can finish his sentence and itadori taken aback, a blush blooms in his cheeks before returning the kiss to you. his hand gripping in the plushness of your waist and the other gripping the flesh of your thigh. it's almost scandalous, kissing in the public but itadori ignores it.

“i'm fine, stop worrying yuuji. say, yuuji. ramen?”

itadori laughs. linking his hands to yours and held it tightly. pulling you close to him while you talked about what kind of ramen you two will be tasting for today's date.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

the bookstore is one of the places you and megumi would frequently hang out, more like a casual date. liking the peace and the ambiance the bookstore brought. the smell of freshly printed magazines and the vintage books littering in the shelves.

megumi glanced sideways. his emerald eyes darting to the clothing you were wearing. discreetly checking you out and megumi smiles. liking how you were getting confident with the more tight-fitted clothing. his eyes softening when he sees you gleaming with excitement at the newly-stacked books.

“megumi, i'll be checking out the next shelves.” you tell him and megumi nods at you, sparing you a glance before returning to his book.

minutes passed and megumi suspiciously eyes the shelves. you were taking longer than usual, a book in your hand while you happily skips to him. showing a book that you consider to be a steal but he was only greeted by silence.

closing the book in his hand, megumi returned it into the shelf and makes his way where you were supposed to be. before he can turn, a all-too familiar voice made his hearing perked up.

“please, i don't want anything to do with you.” your voice small and what megumi had seen his blood boiled. he can see you caged between the arms of a man that is not him.

“you heard my girlfriend. let her go.” a scowl etched in his face and hearing his voice, the man looks at him. smirking at megumi.

you instantly runs where megumi is.

“this is your boyfriend?” the man feigns in disbelief and you facepalmed. this man was literally digging his own grave. nobody want to see megumi angry. having a reputation for beating the living daylights out of people and you don't want him wrecking havoc here.

“megumi. don't. please. he's not worth it.” you pleaded. trying to convince megumi not to shed blood here.

“hey you there girl. make sure this man could satisfy you.” he laughs before leaving you two alone.

you could almost breathe in relief but megumi's murderous aura reels in the air and you gulped.

a yelp escaped in your lips when you were pinned against the bookshelves. your back hitting the hard wood. you couldn't speak a word where you felt his cold lips in your neck. a moan almost escaping you.

“you're a sight for sore eyes, you know that.” his breathe tickling your cheeks and his hand cups your soft jaw. his eyes burning in anger and jealousy.

“next time that shit happens, i'm taking you right here.”

NANAMI KENTO

men will be men. nanami loosens his tie to properly breathe or else he had already murdered his colleagues who has not been so quiet at checking about you.

he can't blame them though. you were the embodiment of a gorgeous coworker who smiles at everyone and that godforsaken outfit you wore. making your curves pop out. almost making everyone's mouth drools at the sight of you.

he can feel the frustration building inside him. nanami didn't like it a bit when his colleagues would stare like you were a piece of meat. he was still pissed earlier for that annoying intern who acts like he owns the place and constantly flirting with you. although, you brushed it off like nothing and resumed work like usual.

his eyes follows the sight of the annoying intern again whose following you again whilst you printed out the last remaining papers that needed to be passed. you're going to get a piece of me. nanami thought.

lunch rolled and you were currently making yourself a cup of coffee. not until you can sense the presence of someone behind you.

“hi there, kento.” you smiled.

“i don't like how they are looking at you.” his fingers brushing your cheeks before leaning down to kiss you.

you relished on it before pushing him away. “ken, they'll see us.”

“let them.” grabbing the mug in your hands and placed it on the table beside. holding your waist before lifting you up. placing you on the table and continued kissing you. his hands creeping up under your blouse. loving how nanami could get frisky at times like this.

drunk in his kisses, you didn't care if anyone could see you at this state right now. letting nanami take control while you holds his tie.

“what the fu-” nanami hears a voice. looking at the door where the intern stood. eyes wide he watches nanami kiss you.

nanami smirks, watch this little shit. he thought and the man left after that. now, you weren't getting bothered by anyone at this time.

GOJO SATORU

you blink owlishly. realizing your bastard of a boyfriend hadn't arrived yet. taking his sweet time and he would only comment at his tardiness. why would i bother? he would say and he goes on.

this party is starting without him and you grabbed a seat near the bartender's and took a sip of your drink. deciding you'll wait for him.

“is this seat taken?” a hand taps on your shoulder and you replied with a no.

the guy sits and orders his drink of choice before turning to face you.

“have someone with you here?”

“yeah, running late.” you replied.

“you know, i can entertain you while waiting for that someone of yours.” he smugly commented. taking a swig from his drink.

“excuse me.” standing up and he holds your wrist to stop you.

"just kidding." he chuckles.

“what do we have here.” his playful tone rings in the space. ripped arms wrapping around your soft middle while he placed a kiss in your neck.

gojo placed his jaw in your head. amused at someone for flirting at you. he knows his fluffy girlfriend would never give attention to other man besides him. his blue eyes peeking behind his dark glasses.

“what kind of entertainment will that be? hm?” gojo hums.

the guy was left speechless and gojo boosting his ego smiles at him.

“my girlfriend would be having plenty of that entertainment when you're out of sight. now, go on.”

the guy left. leaving you alone with gojo who was smirking and looking below him. his girlfriend staring at him.

“sorry, (y/n).” you scoff. “you're never sorry.”

“damn right you are.” he chuckles.

“neh, (y/n). how about we have some fun to ourselves.” you laugh at him while he pulls you in a secluded spot.

“(y/n), i could eat you right here, y'know.” his hot breath fanning your ears. Sending shivers to your spine and heat pooling in your stomach.

“satoru, we can't.” face flustered at his risqué remarks. gojo chuckled at your reaction. he loves how helpless you look under him. gojo grabbed the both sides of your head as he pulls you in a searing kiss.

breaking the kiss, “of course we can't baby girl don't want them know how naughty you are.”

[dreamgothgirl]

Bastard Pt. 1

Batman AU! Toji x GN! Reader

Warnings: mild language, VERY suggestive (more like direct) language, maybe messed up grammer or sentence structures, a plot line composed by a stoner music producer with nothing better to do. Smut will be in the next one, pinky promise.

Author's Note: So sorry this is late. I have no excuse. But I love you for sticking around anyway big tiddie broke dilf make me go brrr :,) <3

This probably makes no sense but I had fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading it.

wc: 1,927

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Toji Fushiguro, AKA: Deadshot. A widowed single father and ex-supervillain turned somewhat vigilante that just so happens to work with Batman, as a spy and front man for Satoru Enterprises when Batman himself, known to the public eye as Gojo Satoru, is too busy being the center of attention at other parties.

You can thank his son Megumi, or Nightwing, for making those two somewhat behave around each other. After Deadshot saved Robin’s life from one of Joker’s antics gone wrong by none other than you, Gojo couldn’t help but, for the first time, feel in debt to someone. But Toji? Let’s just say that if Batman ever had the pleasure of catching you, you will have wished it was Deadshot who got you first.

After putting Yuji’s, AKA: Robin’s, life in danger, Gojo has been paying extra money on the side for your assassination; should you ever cross Toji’s path. Because of his partnering with the Bat Family, Deadshot doesn’t carry out assassinations to multiple clients like he used to; mostly participating in gambling rings to get his fix of illegalities and, on special occasions, more violence. Though, no matter how good he is at bullshitting, he can’t help but admit that neither of those things put as much money in his pocket as he’d like. Money that isn’t from Batman.

The very person who put him in the shithole situation that made him lose everything back then. Sure, your attempted murder of Robin was the Bat family’s reason for hating you, but Toji’s had nothing to do with you actually almost killing a minor. No. He hated that you were the reason he had to hang around Batman, of all people. The sooner you were dead, the faster he got away from the Bat Family and could get back to his true passion and money maker. Who knows? Maybe he might actually ask Megumi to hang out with him for once.

Y/N L/N, AKA V/N. You were a master con-artist that has nothing to do with Deacon Blackfire. In fact, unlike Blackfire, you had no ability to brainwash your victims. Although brainwashing would be the best addition to your curse technique, it wasn’t a big fuss when you had a gun. Your curse was simply called, ‘Doppelgänger’. Your friends mused how cool of a name that was for you already, but V/N has such a cuter ring to it! The name of your curse is self-explanatory. You had the ability to copy another person’s look down to the birthmarks on their body with one handshake. This did mean that you could also duplicate their cursed energy, but not the curse itself.

This is because your cursed energy simply suffocates the original curse thanks to a curse steroid serum made by Scarecrow. Because of this curse, you gained one of the most notoriously ANNOYING but funny sidekicks. Clayface. Clayface was quite literally your partner in crime as he fought off the Bat Family and other villains trying to ruin your plans. Thanks to you ruining the Joker’s scheme back then, you were able to convince the public that V/N was truly dead for good. Batman nor Deadshot ever said a word about this being true, voicing their skeptics to the public and warning them to continue to keep an eye out just in case. So, the fight between Bats and Clayface just made Clayface seem like any other villain trying to mess with Gotham City per usual. Yikes.  

              Since you always hid your identity with a mask of some kind, not only did this increase paranoia and distrust amongst the Gotham citizens, but it also made it harder for Toji and the Bat family to know if you were in front of them. Normally, Gojo would have no problem finding you, but the constant change in your cursed energy managed to throw his six-eyes into a distorted funk.

The steroids your cursed energy absorbed didn’t make it any better. Because of Scarecrow, the curse steroid made any curse users brave enough to try to find you with their own curse, it would reveal their worst nightmare through their own technique. It wouldn’t deter any curse users from fighting you with their curse techniques though. Scarecrow didn’t want to get rid of all the fun. Anyway, it was safe to say that Deadshot had never seen your true face, nor have the two of you ever exchanged real words.

Tonight was the last night of your DA campaign and the race was looking tight. It was you vs Geto Suguru. He had the one up on you because of the heavy funding from Satoru Enterprises. ‘Having rich friends help you out has got to be against the rules somehow,’ you thought. You got your funding from the most respected people in Gotham. Just ask Clayface. Going against Geto was ironic considering how often you kidnapped his daughters and himself. But you were so close to winning by pointing out the chaos Gojo and Toji’s words to the public.

Your statements of Batman not even being able to protect his own understudies and successors solidified your win, you thought. Victory was so close you could taste it. And tonight, you absolutely were not going to let ANY of those Bat Rats and their stupid puppy ruin it.

You glared ahead at the center of the ballroom, licking the champagne away from your lips. Fallen glitter from the extravagant yet somewhat scandalous dresses that decorated the bodies of would-be goddesses at your charity event for your campaign. However, through all the lights, chatter, and music you become lost in thought at the one man you were PRAYING wouldn’t show up just yet. Those simple hopes were quickly dragged to hell and your anger rose when one of your henchmen whispered over your shoulder, “Mx. L/N, Mr. Fushiguro would like to have a word with you, if you would.”

Your nose twitched slightly, ‘!@#$% !@#$% !@#$% THAT PIECE OF ^%&*!! !@#$%!!!!!’

              You gave a kind smile and small bow of your head, apologizing, “Excuse me for a moment.”

              As the two of you walked across the room, the man at your side kept a whispered while you nodded and waved to your guests thanking you for the lovely event, “The donations have already been moved and the exchange has been done. We’re ready whenever you are.”

              You nodded but almost let your glass of champagne slip from you’re your fingers as you stood a few feet away from the one they called Deadshot. The tux he wore was a classic black with a sleek silk tie and matching handkerchief neatly tucked away in his breast pocket. His ensemble fit him well enough to show his rippling muscles that’ve taken the lives of so many innocent and cruel.

The lux silver cufflinks that sat just above the ball of his wrist made his strong, deadly hands look more dignified and powerful than they would have with tattoos and rings. It made you wonder if maybe he had a tattoo or two elsewhere. Nothing would make you hesitate from finding out, that’s for sure.

              Fushiguro’s hair looked soft and thick enough for you to pull. You wished you could grip it as hard as you could. Preferably out of annoyance, but…maybe something else could replace it? The warmth in your face quickly turned stone cold as his piercing green eyes met your e/c ones. Those eyes were the eyes of a tunnel visioned blood lust you’d only seen in the most skilled killers you’ve sorely crossed paths with. He knows. And you’re silently fearful that there may not be a way out for once.

‘I know I’m not God’s favorite soldier…but before you let the devil take me, just let me lick his lip scar. Just once!!’

Toji’s eyes bore into you, watching as your own, classier, outfit hugged your body just right. The subtle plumpness of your thighs could be seen through the fabric of your bottoms while they hugged your ass the way he was really wishing his hands would. Fuck, what was he thinking? You were Gotham’s soon-to-be mayor.

He could give a shit about tainting his own name, but he knew that if he did give in to his urges, the Satoru name would be in shambles which might even lead to the downfall of Batman. Hm…maybe that’s not such a bad thing actually.

 Argh, but even so he’d be putting your own reputation at risk given his background. It took Gojo quite a bit more work than the rich sorcerer initially thought to get the public opinion to be in favor of Deadshot, the deadliest assassin who has ruined countless families in the name of business as well; suddenly being in a relationship with a politician such as yourself was way too suspicious.

But goddamn, he just couldn’t take his mind off you. He’d been watching you since he walked in. Toji’s eyes never once left your general direction as he leaned against the open bar, greeting Satoru Enterprises’ partners with a not-so-subtle dismissive tone in his voice. Toji was told to keep a lookout for V/N, but he knew damn well he wasn’t even bothering with the thought of that headache.

  Tonight, it was all you. He’d been infatuated with you for a while. Something about your presence was like a whip cracking in the room, catching everyone’s attention as soon as your heel hit the floor. Your looks were the cherry on top of your manipulative promises to your supporters. After keeping an eye on you for an hour, which felt like 20 minutes, he called over one of your representatives.

Now, here you were. Glowing like some fucking deity had come to reap his soul to hell like he deserved. Toji already knew as soon as he decided to finally call you over that his chances with you were low, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to get just a little taste of your lips.

          Toji’s eyes bore into you, watching as your own outfit hugged your body in all the right places. The lights that made your sexy h/c hair have a water-like sparkle to it. He was too busy appreciating your beauty; you took his concentration for suspicion. Had you been weak, you would’ve compromised your position in an instant at how cold and sharp those eyes were.

The definition of piercing, truly. Luckily, your voice sent strong enough shivers down his spine to snap him out of his trance. “Good evening. Mr. Fushiguro! I’m so glad you could make it!”

      His scar curved a bit as he smirked, “Nice to see you, Mx. L/N. You look great.”

     ‘You’d look better in my sheets.’

       You chuckled and bowed your head a bit in thanks, “You got balls showing up here, I’ll give you that! Should I expect to see Mr. Geto?”  

       Toji shrugged, leaning back coolly against the calmly busy open bar, “Nah, don't even worry about him, babe. I don’t get paid to vote for assholes I don’t like. Just work for ‘em, y’know?”

      The casual banter he’d begun made your shoulders relax and your face soften a bit, “Yeah. Tell me about it. That’s why I prefer working solo.”

     The man gave a huff of amusement through his nose, almost sarcastically replying before sipping his whiskey, “I knew you’d understand.”

     You order your own drink and decide to sit with your soon to be trophy. Dead or alive, you were going to make sure he was yours. And had he known who you were; he could say the same. But with only you knowing who he was...maybe you'd be first.

[noritoshiikamo]

lunch date

part 2 of this childhood friend drabble (ok fr frshould i name this childhood friend series or public sex series bcs hmm you'll see) pairing: gojo satoru + fem!reader genre: smut bcs i think with my hand down my pants when i see gojo tags//warning: established relationship public sex, gojo thinking with dick part 2, mention of breeding kink tagging: @unabashednightmarepizza @sukirichi @sassyeahhhh [lemme know if wanna be tagged in the next part] note: the obligatory trio of mine: unedited, lowercase intended, the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it.

“toru- ah, that hurts!”

his grip to her thighs tightened, “shhh, they can hear you.”

when gojo satoru suggested that they have lunch together, she happily accepted. she didn't suspected anything odd of his behavior. he was so kind to offer to bring her something over and she has been so stressed with her works, she just accepted it with no questions. it was the first text she’d replied after ignoring his many messages and calls.

it has been two weeks since the staircase incident and she started to suspect that he knew that she was actively trying to avoid him for almost a week. she knows gojo satoru like the back of her own hand, she knows he will not forget his promises, and he will hold against her until he gets it. their newly blossomed relationship was doing okay until he popped the question out so casually as she cooked. she couldn’t forget the look on his face.

“so, when are we going to have a baby?” his question that freaked her out lingered in her mind.

a baby

what was she thinking? she smacked her head on the table. “you could’ve asked for a house, or his black card, or something else. but a baby?” her voice strained.

“yes?” the hair on her back stood at the familiar deep voice.

she looked up so fast, her head spun to see her door opened wide. sara, her colleague stood with a slight frown on her face and on her side, gojo satoru. he wore teasing smile, traded his blindfold for his glasses and he looked different. he wore a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up with a pair of black pants and boots. his outfit looked simple and minimalistic, but don’t be fooled. she knew his shirt costs about the same as her monthly rent.

i can’t believe i picked a baby over his black card, her mind cried at the thoughts.

“i’ve tried stopping him,” sara explained, a glare on her face. he interjected. “i don’t need appointment to see my girlfriend,” gojo stepped inside, holding the door. “girlfriend?” sara questioned. she couldn’t help but to feel satisfied at the reaction her assistant’s face held.

“she gave you, her number?” she asked, one night where he came over. the bed sheet wrapped around her bare body as her eyes raked up and down satoru’s own bare body as he leaned against the headboard. his eyes shut close with his arms flexed behind his head. a small satisfactory smile on his face as he said, “right after telling me that you like me.”

“that bitch,” she hissed, gritting her teeth.

“y/n chan,” his eyes opened, a teasing smirk grew on his face. he leaned forward, the blanket pooled around his waist as he cupped her face in his hand, “didn’t see you as a jealous kind.”

it wasn’t that fact that she was jealous that sara is actively into gojo. she was fuming at her assistant for divulging her personal matter to him. that part first, and then maybe she was a little jealous. but then, sara was the reason she finally gets the guy she’s been waiting for; so at the end she still wins. sara will remain a bitch for a reason.

“it’s okay, we are having lunch together. you can leave,” she dismissed her, rubbing her strained eyes. gojo happily slammed the door shut.

“so, wanna tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

she sighed, her fingers ghosting over the keyboard, his presence has disturbed her mind, “i’m not. i-i’m busy.”

he sat on her chair, crossing his legs as he rested his lanky body against the chair. “you can’t even look at me. what is it?” he asked. her finger stopped above the enter key. she wanted to press it, but she can’t. something is holding her back. she knew what he’s doing. she sighed in defeat and turned to face the elephant in the room. her brows frowned when she realised; “where’s the food?” she asked staring at the empty table.

“huh?”

“lunch? you told me we are having lunch?” she frowned. this idiot did not just suggest that they’ll have lunch together, show up at her office without the promised food. gojo looked at her sheepishly, a small smile on his face.

“oh, that. yeah, i just want an excuse to see you,” his small smile turned sinister as he lolled his head to the side, “you could be my lunch.”

her face pressed against the glass window overlooking the city. her floor wasn’t that high, they could see the streets bellow and the office in front of them. she repeatedly told him that they can’t do this. “they can see us,” she panicked, despite being delirious from his kisses as she let him unbutton her shirt. but a few kisses later, her skirt hiked up, panties in his pocket and his dick hitting her cervix roughly, she was convinced.

“you think you can come for me six times?” he heaved, lips against her bare shoulder, accentuating his words with his every thrust, “six for the amount of days you've ignored me. another five to go, buttercup. should be easy.”

his hand trailed down her chest, her belly until he found her neglected clit. a gentle tap of her bundle of nerves had her throwing her hair back. she was about to come undone; he could feel it from the way she was desperately clamping down on his length and her whining. tears streaming down her face as she bit down on her lips to hold herself from screaming, she could taste blood. her body shuddered, her sweaty skin leaving marks on the glass and the way he just mewled against her ears, praising her made her legs buckled.

he was quick to catch her, hands gripping her waist.

they moved to the desk, pushing all her files and pens aside as he laid her down. he showered her with kisses, slowly trailing them down to her cunt. he eyed her glistening slit, mouth watered. grabbing her legs, he held it open, she whined at the feeling of his warm breath ghosting over her. “satoru, i can’t,” she moaned at the first lick, her hand pressed on his head trying to get away, but he held her tight. “n-no more, ah fuck, fuck!” she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every reaction as his tongue worked their ways. the feeling on his teeth grazing her clit, the tip of her tongue teasing around her entrance, before slipping in.

she tasted so good; it was more pleasurable for him than her. she looked pretty squirming to get away as he held her tighter, tongue darting in and out. overstimulation was hitting her full force and she was high in pleasure. her brain couldn’t comprehend; between the feeling of his breath against her slit, his tongue fucking her, his calloused palms against her waist and the sound he was making. she didn’t give two fucks if the office heard them fucking.

“close, fuck, toru i want-” her words cut off by her own moan.

his tongue switched, sucking on her swollen clit as his finger took over the fucking. it didn’t take long for her to gush out. her head was pounding, his words went in one ear and out the another. he stood up, drools and her fluid covered his chin and onto his bare chest. he helped her sat, she was beyond exhausted. the feeling of his fingers brushing her hair back brought back to the office, she looked up to him with her eyes half drooped. a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he pressed it on hers. “you okay?” he whispered, planting kisses after kisses. “i miss you so much,” he cooed.

“miss you,” was all she could mustered out.

“did i scare you? with the baby talk?” he asked, pulling her in his arms. truth be told, seducing her into fucking in front of the glass window wasn’t the actual reason gojo was here. but her words were just so inviting, he doesn’t mind a little detour. she tasted delicious. she mumbled something against his chest, but he was sure it was a maybe.

“i thought you wanted it.”

she pouted, finally the first sentence her brain could scrambled, “maybe i change my mind.”

“that’s why you ran away from me? you’re scared?” he tilted her head up, his heart warmed at the little pout she had on, “oh buttercup, i won’t lie. the thoughts of you all round and milky with my child is turning me on-” not a lie, because she could feel his cock pressing against her slit, “but it’s okay. one day i’ll change your mind but for now, i’m fine with a little practise now.” she groaned against his lips as she felt his tip slipped in, stretching her once again.

this one was quicker, she was already sobbing mess, clutching desperately on his chest as he chased his high.

the deeper he pushed into her, the faster he had to circle her clit. he’s not a selfish lover, he wants her to feel as good as him too, despite being borderline torturous as she was clearly an overstimulated mess. “you’re so good to me,” he hummed, “you take me in so well. i love the way your tight cunt suck me in.” she really was, with mouth apart panting his name, eyelids drooped, and fingers dug into his flesh with legs apart.

she’s his good little girl.

she nodded, soft mewls could be heard through her pants. the wet kisses he was peppering her skin soon turned into a desperate attempt to leave a mark. she was beyond exhausted to berate him for doing it, so she learned to enjoy the feeling of his fangs against her flushed skin.

“toru, it feels so good,” she rolled her eyes back and he hummed in agreement.

gojo held her throat, not too harsh but not exactly gentle too, “it does, does it?” he grinned, “come, clench around my cock, y/n chan," he teased, in a sing-song tone, "i’m about to fill you up to the brim.” he tightened the grip, she whined. the way the walls tightening around him, had the world strongest’s sorcerer a moaning mess, as his hips snapped faster.

the sound of their skin slapping each other got louder and louder with the squelching of her cunt. his eyes rolled to the back of his head, as he forced his cock all the way inside, his thick seed shooting directly into her womb. his grip on her waist tightened, he was all choke up. they stayed in each other’s arm, struggling to catch a break.

he pinched her cheek for the fun of it, seeing her annoyed and bothered for his own personal pleasure. “what luck you have, y/n. falling in love with someone like me,” he brushed the tear stains on her cheek.

“who said i love you?”

he pressed his hand on his chest, faking the pained look on his face with an ouch. it was never an exchange of i love yous between them; it was him annoying the fuck out of her and her being constantly concern by his childishness. “would you still come home, y/n. i miss you so much, no lies.” he asked as he pulled his pants back up. "i will," she promised. he helped her off the desk, cleaning the mess they’d made and her chasing him around for her pair of panties. she never got it back, her face was as red as her stilettos as she made her way out of the office bare under her skirt. she could hear him snickering behind her.

“c-cancel the rest of my day please, sara. i have some business to take care off,” she glared at the white-haired man running toward the elevator. lunch time was over, and she was beyond fucked to continue her work. literally. not when gojo had made sure to give her the fucking of her life, she couldn’t focus on her work no more. sara gave her a glare, a dirty one, as she eyed her skewered hair and wrinkled clothes. she placed the files on her assistant’s desk, rushing as gojo held the elevator opened.

she made in, jumping instantly in his arms as the door closed. it was just two of them in the empty lift.

she giggled in his arms; his huge smile was contagious. he kissed her so gently, thumb on her back rubbing shapes. his smile grew wider as they pulled away. she tilted her head, confusion on her face and he nudged his head to the door. she turned around only to see their reflection on the elevator’s door. “look closer,” he whispered, and her eyes widened as she realised a trail of his cum, peaking out of her skirt down her legs. her face got even redder as she wasn’t sure if it had just happened or gojo has been letting her walk around with his cum down her legs.

“i’ll murder you, satoru.”

the lift suddenly halted. the number stopped at the ninth floor and she cursed. the lift wasn’t malfunction; she knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“not going to lie, seeing my cum down your legs, it looks hot,” he said sheepishly, a kiss on her cheek while his hands already made their way underneath her blouse. his brows raised up suggestively.

“will you stop thinking with your dick, satoru?”

“you still owe me two more orgasm, buttercup.”

the light of the lift suddenly tripped, engulfing them in a pitch-black darkness. she jolted in his arms. the emergency light turned on and under the dimmed light, she could see his blue eyes on her like a predatory to its prey. she could feel her throat drying as a kiss landed on her neck.

“we better make our time worth.”

[cherrywoes]

dark sun. (ryoumen sukuna x f!reader x oc)

i. ikigai.

— the reason for being; the reason you wake up in the morning.

rating: mature for sexual content, violence, blood, gore, etcetera.

warnings: violence in this chapter, graphic descriptions of viscera and gore, murder.

a/n: i caved and finally wrote it. feedback is appreciated (adored *cough*). next on my list is a chapter for the girl in the foxes’ den. <3 

THE SMELL OF BLOOD would make some people gag. But you—sitting complacently in the small, cramped room offered to you by the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College’s higher ups, the only thing they would even deem appropriate to allow you to own—were used to the faint tang of iron, the putrid odor of someone’s bowels spilling out of their body through a horizontal gash between their hips.

It was a regular occurrence, or at least a daily chore, that you had to clean blood out of the tatami mats and replace the shoji doors entirely. Most of your tiny allowance, collected from the bodies of the assassins who had been paid to kill you, was enough to pay for it, but sometimes you had to wonder if it was just as much a chore for the janitors to make the bodies vanish as it was for you to try to get blood out of tatami mats—which was hilariously difficult.

Staring at the decapitated head lying at your knees, you dodged a spurt of arterial spray coming from the stump of the neck, following the trajectory with your eyes and internally withering away as it struck at yet another set of shoji doors, rendering you up to two sets you would be replacing in the next couple of days. Masamichi Yaga would be disappointed in you; at least, you figured he would be. It wasn’t as if he was paying you many visits lately, not with the way your Curse was acting up lately.

Ama-no-Kagaseo slumbered away peacefully in your arms. Held by a sash wrapped around your shoulders and back with Shinto charms woven into the very seams, he was virtually hidden from sight so only you could see the small, chubby face within, and the wisps of pale hair curling at his forehead. He looked almost innocent like this, if you could just ignore the body bleeding before your kneeling form and the way an invisible breeze brushed hair away from your ear to whisper an unintelligible term of affection, as if you were oblivious to his presence.

“Another body, [Name]-san?”

The gentle touch at the back of your neck vanished. You looked over to the now opened shoji door to see your teacher—over qualified executioner, you liked to call her—Fujiwara, Sayaka standing at the threshold. She wore the typical black uniform of the college, personalized into a sleek and form fitting pant suit embellished with charms and cleverly woven Jujutsu spells to shield her from Ama-no-Kagaseo’s temper. While you had never told her they wouldn’t do any good, as he had tore through higher grade spells like paper before, she seemed to be aware of the constant danger she was in by just being around you or in your personal space. Sayaka was sketchy and dodgy at best, but she could match Gojo, Satoru on a bad day, so you trusted in her power at least only marginally. Your fondness for the woman was probably the only thing keeping her alive.

“Yes.” The carefully crafted speech of the Shiraishi clan was something Sayaka hated and you used as a security blanket. The elders couldn’t say anything if you were polite, respectful, and kept Ama-no-Kagaseo on a leash; which was foolish, you’d wanted to tell them, because the malevolent god was not above overpowering you and waking from his sleep if he so wanted. “This would be the sixth one this month. Do they ever run out of bodies to slaughter?”

“I’m afraid not.” The woman’s pale pink hair shone in the sunlight peeking through the broken roof that the assassin had launched himself through. It had been a comical sight; you’d even dropped your green tea in shock, even though you shouldn’t have been surprised with how often it happened. “Well, you can’t stay here—not now, anyways. I’ve been given new orders to secure your lodging on the college campus, effective immediately.”

You raised an eyebrow. You had never been allowed to set foot on the campus ever since you’d taken your position as Ama-no-Kagaseo’s vessel. You vaguely remembered the people there—Fushiguro, Megumi and Panda to name two—and what it looked like, though it had been so long that you wondered what they looked like now. They had been young, like you, when you met them, Panda being an adorable presence that had raised your spirits if only for a little while. Ama-no-Kagaseo was considered a threat to all life and, as such, you had to keep away from the main populace of Jujutsu sorcerers for their safety… or the higher up’s whims. So to hear you were going there, immediately, without question, raised a few red flags for you.

“What’s going on?” You asked, though the demand in your voice was clear. It was something you had picked up from Ama-no-Kagaseo when he had first started speaking to you through your linked souls. Sayaka always seemed unnerved when you demanded something of her, as if seeing something you couldn’t, not that you would be surprised if she could. She’d seen a manifestation of Ama-no-Kagaseo’s essence around you more than once and nearly lost her eye for it; the scar running lengthwise down her face was proof of it. “You know as well as I do that they would never let me set foot on those grounds unless something more important than keeping Ama-no-Kagaseo sealed came up.”

Sayaka squinted at something over your shoulder right as you felt the jade pins in your hair tinkle like windchimes. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

You offered her a sheepish smile. Ama-no-Kagaseo was fond of getting on every single one of Sayaka’s nerves through you, since you wouldn’t let him kill her without shunning him entirely. It was an unusually innocent form of torture for him, one you never took for granted. That didn’t mean that she understood exactly how lucky she was that he didn’t resort to his more cruel methods of torture.

“He’s been calm today,” you said in lieu of reassuring her. You deliberately left out the fact that he was more occupied with playing with the anklet around your sock clad ankle, a Shiraishi family heirloom that hadn’t been worn since Ama-no-Kagaseo had been sealed. The malevolent energy it gave off was distinctly Ama-no-Kagaseo’s and you doubted any of the other women before you had been comfortable wearing it. “You’ll be okay for today.”

“Like that’s supposed to be reassuring,” she scoffed. You had to begrudgingly agree; he had been calm the day he’d given her that scar, although the incident leading up to it had been… extenuating, to say the least. She eyed the still form of his human body in your arms and then looked away. “How far does his domain extend now?”

You recognized the question for what it was: a distraction. Clearly whatever was going on was something you weren’t privy to, or were ever going to be privy to. You pressed your lips together and Ama-no-Kagaseo stopped playing with your anklet to swipe an invisible finger over your mouth, unpleased with your dour expression. You attempted to relax your facial muscles ever so slightly and that seemed to satiate him, because he went back to fiddling with the charms on your anklet. If Sayaka noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“It’s extended.” You adjusted the sash around your shoulders uncomfortably. Ama-no-Kagaseo’s domain was not something you wanted to talk about; Sayaka reported everything to the higher ups, and as a consequence, what little freedom you had was suppressed with every little progression that Ama-no-Kagaseo’s domain made towards more leeway. You had a feeling that he repressed his malicious urges for your sake, but you couldn’t be entirely sure—he never spoke in entire sentences, just fragments of words and quiet terms of endearment. “I think maybe a few feet. I’m not sure.”

It was more like another mile, rolling his total up to two miles, but you kept that part to yourself. Sayaka seemed to accept your answer, still eyeing the space that the Curse was occupying beside you, and then looked at your kimono like she always did. It wasn’t as if it was exactly normal.

When you had gained Ama-no-Kagaseo’s trust—or affection?—your wardrobe had been sliced to ribbons and replaced with shimmering kimonos of the highest quality silk, imbued with Ama-no-Kagaseo’s Curse energy and embroidered with his personal sigil. You had been distraught over your lost possessions, many of them belonging to your mother, the former vessel before you, but you had grown to appreciate the garments for their beauty and comfort. The silk seemed to have a permanent projection of the night sky upon it so that when you moved, the stars would shift as if in a time lapse recording. Ama-no-Kagaseo only let you remove it when you went to bathe or got ready for bed. By the time you were awake and moving out of bed, the kimono—sometimes a variant with thicker layers or thinner ones—was already wrapped around your body again as if it had never left in the first place.

“I’m guessing you won’t be allowed to wear the uniform,” she sighed, indicating that you’d need to blend in for whatever it was that was going on. “Damn. Okay, well, we can work on that later. Right now we need to get you packed and moving before—”

“Kelp.”

You hadn’t noticed the new presence at the door, or even within Ama-no-Kagaseo’s domain. Your eyes darted to the door, instinctively bristling as if an assassin was awaiting you, and all at once, you felt the temperature in the room—once a comfortable sixty-five degrees—drop significantly. Sayaka’s eyes widened and almost a second too late, she shoved the white haired male to the floor. A fraction of a second later a harsh gust of wind blew the wall behind his head out, the roof slumping down and crumbling into a pile of debris.

“Inumaki-san!” Sayaka growled, gritting her teeth in frustration. She got to her feet and when she was sure that Ama-no-Kagaseo’s curse energy wasn’t fluctuating for another hit, she pulled the male to his feet. He seemed a little shell shocked, or at the very least surprised, and his dark gaze drifted to you in minute curiosity. “Didn’t I tell you not to come in until I explained everything?”

“Salmon. Mustard Leaf.”

What? You fluttered your eyes open and shut in disbelief. Was he talking in… ingredients?

“Of course. I guess I should have expected that.” Sayaka rubbed her face and crossed her arms. Then she looked at you. “Shiraishi-san, this is Inumaki Toge, a second year student. Inumaki-san, this is Shiraishi [Name]. She’ll be on campus for the foreseeable future.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied, feeling Ama-no-Kagaseo’s hostility dwindle with your calming heart rate.

“Kelp.” He bowed his head slightly, but for the most part remained straight and standing. That allowed Ama-no-Kagaseo to calm down completely and you had to wonder why, but your attention was quickly ripped away when Sayaka spoke again.

“He’ll be standing in for me when I am unable to attend to you.”

This was news—frankly shocking news, if you were being honest—to you. Sayaka had not left your side since you were ten. She had to be in her early thirties, your latest estimate may be in her forties, not that she would tell you. She saw any personal information as a weapon to be used against her by Ama-no-Kagaseo. She was adamant that it had nothing to do with you, personally, but the Curse who you carried against your chest as if he were your own child. You admitted it was a smart thing to do, but you also knew deep within your heart that if Ama-no-Kagaseo wanted to hurt her, he wouldn’t need her life history to do it.

“What do you mean?” You inquired, phrasing it as delicately as you could without appearing you were about to fly into a murderous rage. Sayaka was your only friend—not that she’d even let you call her that—in the entire world. You considered Ama-no-Kagaseo a protector, in a convoluted way, and a companion, since he would be with you until the day you died. You couldn’t call anyone else a friend in the way you could her.

Sayaka almost looked uncertain about telling you. She looked to Inumaki for confirmation and he shrugged, indicating the decision was up to her. You watched the interaction with keen eyes, noting the slight familiarity and the way Inumaki was deferring to her with his body language. Clearly he knew something you didn’t, something he shared with Sayaka. Before she opened her mouth, she waved for him to leave the room; obviously she was concerned whatever she was about to say would earn him another blow from Ama-no-Kagaseo.

“Long story short—Ryoumen Sukuna has been incarnated into this era.”

Bound to Ama-no-Kagaseo as you were, you were as in tune to his ‘emotions’ as he was yours. So when Sayaka let that little piece of information hang in the air like a guillotine ready to drop, you felt Ama-no-Kagaseo’s rage bubble up inside you like a potent poison. It was all consuming, hateful, and everything you dreaded when he got truly furious because once he was angry, and you panicked because he would—

And you were gone, taking a backseat in your own conscious. Ama-no-Kagaseo was too infuriated to apologize to you properly, barely managing to even sweep an illusory breeze across your cheek before taking control of your body. You knew he wasn’t angry with you, but this man Ryoumen Sukuna who he seemed to know well that he was beside himself.

Ama-no-Kagaseo had dressed up your shared consciousness to resemble something of a palace of stars and a night sky. The few times he did take control of your body (usually to stop you from tumbling over cliff edges, falling out of trees, or skinning your knees) you were granted access to this mysterious place, and yet it seemed you had a permanent residence despite only being present for a few times. You had a little mat seated beside his at a table; your favorite flowers were littered around the metaphorical palace in porcelain vases; you even had a closet full of star studded kimonos, which was where you assumed he got all of the kimonos he manifested upon your person now.

You appeared upon his throne, which was bizarre since you usually wound up somewhere near the entrance to wait for him to escort you back to your body, a pale metal contraption adorned with blue, green, and purple gems and silk that was smooth and silky to the touch. Since he stayed here often, he had made it comfortable; you had only seen his personal representation of his physical appearance once, and you had been so flustered that you immediately hid your face in your sleeves while he laughed in amusement. Besides that one time, you had only ever seen it in paintings, which were much different than the real—metaphysical?—thing. Ama-no-Kagaseo abhorred earth and for the limited time he was willingly present within it, he was usually only there for you.

A bright blue orb appeared in your lap, hovering just above your legs. You grasped it, worried it would fall and shatter, and found yourself staring through your own eyes at Sayaka.

Her face was contorted into panic and sheer terror. You knew that your appearance changed when he took control—your eyes completely blacked over from corner to corner and appeared as if they had stars in them, and two delicate dark blue dots appeared beneath your eyes to signify your soul and his—but you were curious what you actually looked like. You couldn’t be that terrifying, could you?

“Ama-no-Kagaseo.” Sayaka’s voice was strained. “Where is [Name]?”

That was the first time you’d ever heard her say your name without honorifics. Your surprise must have been evident, because Ama-no-Kagaseo allowed a brief flicker of wind to run down your neck. It was chilly, indicative of his anger, and you pulled your kimono closer around you as if it would help.

“She is present.” That was also the first time you’d ever heard him speak more than a single word. “I am allowing her to watch to reassure her I will not harm you in my anger.”

You would have been dying at his usage of full sentences if you weren’t so worried about Sayaka doing something foolish. You knew she would report this to the higher ups, but you had a feeling this intentional. Ama-no-Kagaseo picked up on your thoughts as well and agreed, gently tugging a jade pin out of your hair. The physical version of you was untouched, but you lost the pin in the metaphysical world.

“I see.” Sayaka carefully sat down, locking her knees and tucking her feet underneath herself. It was the complete opposite of the one she took when you were around. “I’m sure you heard, but—”

“Yes,” Ama-no-Kagaseo interrupted her, using your hand to pick up your discarded cup of green tea. “Ryoumen Sukuna. It has been over a thousand years since I’ve heard that name.”

Sayaka ignored the cup. “I am aware that he played a vital role in sealing you to this realm.”

That was news to you—you seemed to be discovering new things at every turn of the corner. You furrowed your eyebrows and brought your knees up to your chin, watching the globe more intently.

“Not Sukuna himself,” Ama-no-Kagaseo sneered. In your voice, it was a strange thing to hear. “His followers. But he was the indirect cause, so I am attributing the fault to him since I strung their corpses upon his precious temple.”

You could tell that Sayaka found his logic extremely concerning by the twitch in her cheek. A stream of sweat crept down her temple.

“You can’t kill him.”

“And why not?” Ama-no-Kagaseo’s tone went frosty. You watched a shudder roll over Sayaka’s shoulders. “Do not presume to tell me what to do, mortal.”

“He will keep coming back.” Sayaka backpedalled, clenching her fists. “We don’t have all twenty fingers. His host, Itadori Yuuji, is too good of a chance to pass up—if we can get him to intake all of them—”

“You can raze Sukuna from this earth and get rid of him for good.” Ama-no-Kagaseo inferred. “Except it will not be that easy.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Ama-no-Kagaseo didn’t answer her. You felt a telltale pull of your lips and were slowly pulled back into your own body.

“I bore of you,” he said, after a moment, and then allowed you control once more, the darkness bleeding away from your eyes.

You felt him settle into a doze within your consciousness and simultaneously found yourself staring at Sayaka. When you smiled at her in apology, she collapsed back and blew out a harsh breath.

“For a minute there I thought he was going to kill me,” she sighed, then sat up and fixed you with a glower. “You didn’t tell me you could see when he takes control.”

You shook your head and raised a hand, keeping the other firmly rooted against Ama-no-Kagaseo’s physical form’s back. “This is the first time I was able to. I didn’t even know I could.”

Sayaka narrowed her eyes and then looked away, seemingly in thought. “Well, I guess there’s no use in telling the higher ups right now. They have bigger fish to fry at the moment. And it’s not like we didn’t know all of that about Sukuna… Ugh. This is giving me a headache.”

“Me too,” you sighed, unnervingly aware of the way Ama-no-Kagaseo’s fingers were following the collar of your kimono, deceptively docile compared to moments before. He had decided to give up on his nap after all. “So, when do we go to the campus?”

“Right now. Pack up your stuff and meet Inumaki and I outside.”

When Sayaka left the room, you carefully began putting back your tea pot in its box and wandering to find something suitable to put your clothes in. You found a cloth bag, blank except for a few flowers embroidered on it by hand, and had just enough room to pile on your box of jewelry—all of it Cursed with Ama-no-Kagaseo’s energy—on the top. You didn’t have a lot of belongings because of the higher ups, but what you did have you treasured greatly; your favorite piece was an elaborate diadem of foreign make, decorated with diamonds and crystals that were made to turn into weapons if you willed it. You tucked it safely beneath two of your kimonos and found a ring lying on your nightstand where there hadn’t been one before.

You walked over to it, drawn by Ama-no-Kagaseo’s familiar energy. The jewel glimmered with power and visibly made the air around it ripple; you picked it up and found it warm to the touch.

“Protect. Sukuna.” He was back to one or two words again. You were almost disappointed but went back to examining the ring, wondering what finger to put it on. You eventually decided on your ring finger and it was a snug fit, as if it had been made with exactly that finger in mind.

“Thank you, Ama-no-Kagaseo.”

An affectionate ruffle of your hair was all you got in return.

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