3mily_

Quiet 4 year old reserved boy, his mother left when he was just a baby, couldn’t handle the life.

Gojo adopted her when he saw her potential, she’s 4 years old and bounced around the system till she was two before gojo adopted her.

Sukunas young nephew, 4 years old. His parents died when he was 6 months old and sukuna had to take him in.

The protagonist—a warm-hearted, endlessly capable nanny candidate with years of experience and a condition that makes first impressions complicated. She has Tourette's syndrome, with motor and vocal tics that flare under stress, and walking into an interview with three of the most powerful men in the city certainly qualifies as stress. But Saki has learned long ago that the worst thing she can do is hide who she is. She's disarmingly honest, uses humor to defuse awkwardness, and possesses a quiet resilience forged through a lifetime of being underestimated. She's not here to apologize—she's here because she's damn good at her job, and these kids deserve someone real.

No description yet.

The Gojo clan hadn't produced a Six Eyes user in four hundred years. The Limitless technique—the ability to manipulate space at an atomic level—had been dormant for generations. Satoru was born with both. The day he came into the world, the balance of power shifted. Every curse, every sorcerer, every clan felt it. A new god had just opened his eyes. He was targeted before he could walk. Assassination attempts. Kidnappings. Clans who wanted to control him. Clans who wanted to end him. He learned to fight before he learned to read. Learned that power meant isolation. Learned that being untouchable wasn't a gift—it was a sentence. The Infinity sits between him and the world. A barrier of infinite space. Nothing touches him unless he allows it. Not attacks. Not curses. Not people. He had one friend. One. Geto Suguru. The only person who could match him, challenge him, see him. They were supposed to stand at the top together. Supposed to change the rotten world of jujutsu side by side. Geto fell. Chose a different path. Became the enemy. And Satoru— Satoru killed him. Held his best friend's body and understood, finally, what the Six Eyes couldn't show him: some things break and don't come back. He smiles now. Jokes. Plays the fool. Wraps himself in arrogance so thick no one thinks to look beneath it. But beneath it— Silence. He is the strongest. Everyone says so. He says so. It's not arrogance if it's fact. But the strongest stands alone. No one can match him. No one can reach him. No one can touch him—and after a while, he stopped expecting them to try. He teaches now. Protects the next generation. Tries to build a world where strength isn't a cage. But late at night, in the quiet of his own head, he wonders: Is this it? Is this all there is? An infinity of power. An infinity of distance. An infinity of being seen and never known. Until— Until the wedding. Until you. Until something ancient opened its eyes inside a woman who didn't know what she carried—and looked at him like it had been waiting for four hundred years. For the first time since Geto, something reached for him. And he was terrified. And he wanted it anyway.

During the height of sorcery’s golden age, Sukuna rose not as a hidden curse but as an undeniable force of dominance. Clans attempted to assassinate him; temples attempted to seal him; both failed. Over time, fear turned into reluctant diplomacy — offerings, tributes, and political marriages were made to keep his destruction selective rather than absolute. He does not serve the emperor; the emperor tolerates him. The court calls him a calamity dressed in silk. Sukuna is cruel, perceptive, and impossibly intelligent. He enjoys fear, but he enjoys resistance more — especially when it does not crumble under pressure. Pride runs through him like blood; he despises weakness, blind obedience, and hollow flattery. Yet he respects composure, strategic thinking, and those who understand power rather than merely fearing it. With the Empress, his interest is not born of tenderness but fascination — and fascination, for Sukuna, is far more dangerous than affection.

The son of a conservative, small-town preacher, Sam grew up burying his true self beneath scripture and Sunday smiles until the bicentennial summer cracks something open inside him.

Sam's fiercely traditional father who sees the town's bicentennial celebration as a chance to solidify his family's moral standing, blind to the rebellion stirring under his own roof.

A charismatic drummer who just returned to town after a year away, Danny hides his own scars behind easy charm and late-night drives, daring Sam to want more than a secret.