Freya



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    Gojo sat there for a time, absently running his fingers over the bumps and ridges of the skull. This skull was female, according to its rounder eye sockets and less prominent brow bone. There was a faint, faint echo of cursed energy still clinging to it: residuals left over from a long-dead sorcerer or curse user. This person had been powerful. Some kind of cursed speech user, but the echo of positive cursed energy meant they could self-heal their throat even as it was torn by their own power. Nearly invulnerable, like he himself was.
    That hadn’t saved them. Hadn’t saved any of the people who’d been imprisoned here. Invulnerability couldn’t save people from themseves.

    (Gojo is stuck in the prison realm with nothing but his own thoughts and the skeletons of his predecessors for company. It goes about as well as you'd expect. Then he finds a way out, but the world he stumbles into isn't his own. Not even close.)

    This fic is being translated into Russian! Read the Russian translation here.

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    21 Oct 2025

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    “What the fuck are you doing?!” Katsuki shouts, pulling his captive arm away. He rubs at his wrist, since it feels weird and tingly where Deku had circled his fingers around bare skin. “Don’t touch my arm. It’s weird.”

    “You’re not wearing your ring,” Deku says by way of explanation.

    Katsuki stops. Deku sounds as if those words in that order should make perfect sense.

    “My ring?” He bites out incredulously. “What fucking ring?”

    (Katsuki is hit by a quirk that transports him to a world where everything is vaguely the same. Except, of course, people are routinely bombing government buildings,

    And he’s happily married to Deku.)

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    27 Jul 2025

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    So it’s not exactly a shock when he opens his mouth, blue eyes sparkling from behind dark sunglasses (and it’s odd that he’s chosen to wear his glasses here instead of his blindfold; odd to know that Six Eyes trusts him in some weird, skewed way for the simple fact that they both care for a child who deserves more than Toji can give him) and says: “I want you to teach at Jujutsu Tech.”

    It’s not a shock, because Gojo has said more ridiculous things with a straighter face than the one that resides on his features now. Toji throws his head back and laughs.

    Gojo does not.

    “Oh,” says Toji. “You’re not joking.”
    ---
    or: Toji lives. Neither teaching nor parenting are his strong suits, but he ends up stuck with both.

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    25 Jul 2025

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    He traces the petals on his arm and then the ones on his chest, trailing his fingers over the sensitive skin and telling himself that he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s lived and he’s loved and he was loved by another.

    Telling himself that Suguru lives on in the petals that will forever decorate his skin - that so long as kuroyuri map Suguru’s final injuries out on Satoru’s body, Suguru is not truly gone. He carries some part of Suguru with him, some part of Suguru’s soul so deeply entwined with his that one cannot hurt without the other blossoming.

    (Pure love.)

    It is sick and it is twisted and some days, it is the only thing that keeps Satoru going - the lie that he is not alone because the remnants of Suguru are damning scars on his own skin.

    flowers form on your soulmate's skin, mirroring your own injuries. satoru keeps suguru's final injuries on his body, until they're taken from him.

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    25 Jul 2025

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    Satoru knows his limits.

    He knows just how far he can push his limitless before his brain begins to feel like it’s melting out of his ears.

    He knows just how long he can use his six-eyes till even the sensation of clothes on skin begin to feel like knives piercing him all over his body rather than soft fabric and despite physically closing his eyes, the way he can still feel and sense and see everything regardless.

    it’s a pain he’s learnt to deal with growing up.

    Something to push to the back of his mind until the mission is over and until he can carry himself home into bed and try to sort through the painful buzzing of information in his brain as tears run down his face

    Sometimes though, on the worse of those days

    He wishes someone would knock on his door, wishes someone would tell him to stop being so stubborn and just hold him because how long had it been since he had actually touched someone else..

    But what more can Satoru do than wish

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    23 Jul 2025