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osunism · 2 months ago

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Crystalline

Eyes meet, you know where this goes Her keys in, they take off their clothes They're soaking, caught in a dream Her skin shines, like crystalline —The Midnight, "Crystalline"

🪧 Summary: On the night Yuji Itadori consumes Sukuna’s Finger, Satoru finds a familiar face at the epicenter of a shocking discovery. Takes place three months after If. 🔞 Rating: Explicit ⚠️ Be Advised: Explicit sexual situations, recreational drug use, descriptions of violence, blood mention. ❤️‍🔥 Pairing: Satoru x Sundari [🧿👹]

🔏 This is a commissioned fic by the lovely @septembersums. With her permission, I finally get to post this fic so folks can understand how Satoru and his goddess met. September was kind enough to see my vision and bring it to life in her gorgeous writing style as part of my growing Parallax 'verse. She's an absolute joy to work with and talk to and I highly recommend commissioning a fic writer to bring your vision to life! September's AO3 <- Support her work too!

⛩️ AO3 𑁍 FFN 𑁍 Fic Masterlist 𑁍 Parallax OCs 𑁍 Sonder OCs 𑁍 HCs & Meta ⛩️

Satoru is getting bored.

As much as he loves shopping, and he does love shopping, even Satoru has a limit when it comes to how long he can wander between food stalls browsing the options. Although boredom might not be the best word for it. Restlessness, maybe.

He’s been idling away the hours while he waits for Megumi to call with news that he’s secured another of Sukuna’s fingers. It’s a difficult job for a first year, considering how cursed spirits tend to flock to the cursed fingers, but Satoru is fairly confident Megumi can handle it.

If not, Satoru will just teleport there as soon as he senses danger. Simple, easy. In theory, it shouldn’t go wrong. That idea does little to quieten down the sense of unease settling into Satoru. There’s something in the air tonight, something that tastes like intuition, something that feels off.

Satoru attempts to shake the unnatural anxiety by purchasing some more kikufuku. Sweets usually help when he gets a bad feeling like this, which is a decidedly rare occurrence. Even with his impulsive spending, the feeling persists, and it gets stronger. He considers teleporting himself straight to Sendai to see what’s causing it but ultimately decides against it. He’ll know if something happens.

A shiver runs down his spine while he’s standing in front of a food truck that sells crepes, and he knows that his intuition was right. In an instant, he’s standing at the peak of a skyscraper, looking over the city. The wind whips at his loose-fitting clothes and his hair, as he pulls his blindfold down to get a good look at the situation at hand.

What he sees makes no sense whatsoever. It raises the fine hair at the back of his neck, makes the skin of his arms prickle with goosebumps.

Gaze cast towards Sendai, he sees something there— a ripple of cursed energy that looks like Sukuna, but much smaller and less destructive than one would expect of a freshly incarnated Sukuna. It’s a threat, whatever it is, and there’s no question about that, but it’s nothing compared to the other surge of cursed energy in the distance.

Sendai is a blip on his radar in comparison to the potential nuclear explosion of cursed energy he sees building in Tokyo.

A massive, ever-swelling fog of cursed energy covers an entire block, settling over the street like a storm cloud. The longer he looks at it, the bigger it grows.

It makes little sense, considering that he knows something significant just happened to one of the cursed fingers in Sendai, but it looks like Sukuna himself just appeared in Tokyo. A fully formed Sukuna with all of his power, decidedly unlike the tiny hints of it he catches when he’s near the fingers.

This is the real fucking thing— full-fledged, entirely unregulated, a ticking time bomb of a person who will detonate and kill hundreds of people if they aren’t contained and controlled quickly.

“How the fuck is Sukuna in two places at once?” Satoru hisses to himself. Not even Satoru could manage something like that.

Two threats, two people that he needs to keep away from the higher-ups and whoever else might be looking for an incarnated Sukuna. One, however, is a much bigger problem than the other.

A hypnotic bassline thrums in Sundari's ears, a familiar feeling that she normally loves. Right now, though, it’s too much. Something within her is changing, shifting, pulsating— growing. It feels like she’ll be torn apart by the surge of strength within herself, as she stumbles away from the dancefloor filled with gyrating bodies and into the bathroom.

Her breaths are labored, pulse racing, as she nearly doubles over against the wall. She’s drunk, sure, and she’s taken a few party drugs just to keep the night going, but she doesn’t feel right. Something’s fucking wrong, but she doesn’t feel bad. No, she feels good. She feels strong, a lot more so than usual.

The bathroom is empty right now, which is a shocker at a rave like this, but she’s thankful for it. Nobody needs to see her like this— panting, as the power within her claws and grips at her insides. It just grows, and grows, and grows. With a rough rasp, she stumbles over to the sink to look at herself in the mirror.

It might be the drugs talking, but something about her face doesn’t look right. She blinks a few times at the shifting, moving image reflected back at her.

The scars underneath her eyes aren’t scars anymore. They’re eyeballs. Four of them. She squints at herself, leaning closer to get a better look.

She should not have four fucking eyes right now.

Sundari has tried a lot of shit, but nothing that’s ever warped her perception like this. The extra eyes blink in tandem with her own, and she can somehow see through them. It’s disorienting, the shift in perspective, but her vision is only getting better as she acclimates to it.

“The fuck?” She mumbles, gripping onto the sink for balance.

The porcelain shatters under her grip, and water floods into the bathroom. She’s always been strong— a good fighter, a damn good fighter. She even makes money off of it on the side, but she shouldn’t be that strong. She needs to get the hell out of here before she breaks something else, or worse. She can’t imagine what would happen if she bumped into someone right now with her newfound superhuman strength.

She leaves the bathroom in a rush, stumbling at first as she ascends the dark stairwell that leads out of the underground rave and back into the streets of Tokyo. With every step, she miraculously seems to be sobering up. The metal door leading outside warps when she shoves it open. Fuck.

The cool night air feels better than it did inside. She inhales deeply, sighing audibly as she leans against the brick wall behind her.

“Huh. You’re not Sukuna,” a familiar voice drawls from her left.

She whips her head around to see who’s talking to her when she’s having the worst trip of her life, only to see a face she knows all too well. The wickedly pretty boy she hunted in the club a few months ago, not someone she expected to see tonight. He’s leaning against the wall next to her with his arms crossed, eyeing her warily.

“Nah— Sundari, but I thought you knew that,” she snaps back, a little annoyed to see him again right now of all times. “What are you doing here?”

“I do know that, but I didn’t expect to see you here either,” he argues, arms still crossed. “I should’ve known those seals on your back were for something big, but I didn’t think it was this big. Sukuna’s daughter, huh?”

“The fuck are you talking about?” She asks, temper flaring.

Maybe it’s the newfound strength she’s gaining, but this cryptic, confusing conversation is wearing on at her nerves. Something fucking big is happening to her— the last thing she needs right now is a weird conversation with a guy she fucked a few months ago.

“Come with me to my place, and I’ll explain it all,” he offers casually. “It’s a lot safer there than it is here for you. Lots of people are going to want to get their hands on you with all the power you’re gaining right now, and I promise you— I’m the one you want to end up with.”

“You don’t know anything about me. Why would I go anywhere with you?” She snaps, pushing off of the wall with a little too much strength behind it.

The brick crumbles, leaving a sizable crater.

Satoru looks between the crater and her eyes, as if that proves his point.

“You really want to deal with this without any information about what’s happening? What happens when you shove past a stranger on the street and break half of their bones? Or use your technique by accident and kill off a whole city block?”

She hisses out a couple curses, weighing her options. Her decision is only really made when a fractal of a memory slams into her subconscious, and she relives it like a dream she’s forgotten.

The Godslayer, they called her. A monstrosity falling apart underneath her four hands, as she rips it to shreds. Worship, and her mother’s avoidance.

“Fuck,” she hisses. What the fuck was that?

As far as options go, it’s looking slim right now. She could either trust this guy, or she could do exactly what he said when this keeps happening, and she can’t control her own strength. She doesn’t want to hurt people— not innocent people— not if she can help it.

“What’s it gonna be, Sundari?” He pressures her.

“Fine, fuck, let’s go,” she says.

He reaches out a hand to her, and she takes it begrudgingly.

Missing pieces of Sundari’s life start to come together within the next few days. Satoru explains some things to her, like Sukuna, and how she must be his daughter or something similar to have inherited this power from him. Nadja always kept her father a secret from her, a piece of the past that she never wanted to unearth.

The memories come back in waves, usually when she sleeps. Little bits and pieces that don’t make sense when separated but start to form a clearer picture when she puts them together. She’s a lot older than she thought she was, given that she was worshiped at some point a very, very long time ago. For a number of years that she can’t begin to quantify, Sundari’s power has been sealed away, locked inside of her and restricted, as she’d lived her life like a normal person.

Satoru explains that Sukuna was recently incarnated somewhere else, and the seal was broken, which explains why she was suddenly able to break sinks, walls, and doors with her bare hands. The four eyes are hard to get used to, but at least the extra arms haven’t shown up yet.

Now, she’s here in Satoru’s house, being fiercely guarded day and night like some sort of prisoner. Apparently, she’s in grave danger right now, as if shit wasn’t weird enough without that added layer of stress. Satoru’s the strongest sorcerer, which he told her very arrogantly, and his entire job is killing curses like her father, and possibly like her.

It’s been tense. Sundari isn’t naive enough to think that she’s entirely safe with Satoru, seeing as he wants to kill her dad because he’s too powerful. Where does that leave Sundari at the end of this? She hates being guarded and coddled like a child, like she’s something that needs to be contained and controlled, rather than a person.

She’s fucking stressed, and she can’t sleep without these dreams of her long-forgotten past haunting her. She doesn’t necessarily blame Satoru for needing to kill Sukuna— he’s chaos incarnate, he’ll kill thousands of people if he isn’t stopped.

Somewhere deep inside of herself, Sundari is afraid. She’s afraid that Sukuna’s innate violence is lurking beneath her skin, waiting to come out when she doesn’t expect it. Afraid that if she’s left to her own devices, if she gets angry or upset, she’ll become like him. Her memories and Satoru’s stories do enough to remind her of what her father has done, of what she’s capable of if she doesn’t control herself.

But she can control herself. She’s not a loose cannon waiting to be muzzled. Satoru might not see it yet, but she can.

She doesn’t dare mention her feelings to Satoru. Not yet at least. He’s been nice to her while she’s staying here, he didn’t even make a fuss about it when she accidentally broke a door of its hinges trying to open it, but how much can she trust him? Not enough to reveal her deepest, darkest fears, that’s for fucking sure.

It takes Sundari a week to gain full control of her own strength. Like an astronaut that’s just come back from Mars, it takes her a while to settle into herself and feel comfortable with her own body’s limitations again. She knows not to push too hard on doors or rip the handles off of the sink.

Muscle memory from the distant past is kicking in to help her contain her technique. At first, her cursed energy was a serious problem that was only contained by the seals Satoru has around his house. Now, she’s maintaining it herself so well that even Satoru was shocked to see it.

The issue now is the weird tension between the two of them. Satoru’s helpful, but she can see the hunger in his eyes when he takes off the blindfold. She feels it within herself, too, now that she can focus on it without worrying so much about her own strength. Something unfinished and unspoken, leftover from the last time they were together. It was a good night, he was a good fuck, and that was supposed to be the end of it.

Now, they’re living together, and despite the domesticity of that, she still can’t trust him. So, like any reasonable person, she comes up with an idea of how their get over the uncanny tension, or at least make it bearable.

“Do you have any weed around here?” She asks, as they’re sitting on the couch together, silently watching some movie she’s not paying attention to.

Satoru turns his head slowly to look at her, intrigue written on his features. God, he’s pretty. A little too fucking pretty— it makes sense that he’s as powerful as her, given that he looks like that.

“I could get some,” he answers nonchalantly.

Sundari smiles, and maybe they’ll work out their differences after all. Even now, she struggles to be wary of him, he’s so smooth with his words. He matches her wit with ease and returns it just the same. They’re too similar— a little arrogant, both of them, but she doesn’t see it as a bad thing. She sees it as a challenge.

Satoru does come back with some weed a few minutes later, and she struggles to watch him roll a joint— he’s good at everything, apparently, but not that.

“God, you’re bad at that. Let me do it,” she says, frowning as she takes the half-rolled, uneven thing out of his hands.

“I was getting there,” he pouts, rolling his eyes.

“You really weren’t,” she teases, which draws a smirk out of him. He likes it when she talks back, she’s realized.

Satoru watches with a catlike grin, as she fixes it for him. Her eyes lock with his as she runs her tongue over the smooth paper, before flattening it down to make a perfectly cylindrical joint. His eyes flicker between her lips and her own when she presses it between her lips and leans toward him, waiting for a light.

He lights it, and she feels a thousand times better as soon as she inhales. Something to calm the nerves a little bit, it helps a lot, and he has money and connections enough to get some good shit.

Maybe it’s a little too good, actually. They’re both on the moon talking about nothing, passing it between each other and laughing at each other’s jokes. He’s funny, she thinks, as she’s looking at him. The nerve of him to be hot and funny. He’s trying to explain his technique to her, but she’s lost before he gets half of it out.

“Bet I could take you,” she says, relaxing with her head in her palm, as she sits a little closer to him than she realizes.

“In a fight?” He asks, teasing and a little flirtatious.

She grins. “Yeah, in a fight.”

“Bet you couldn’t,” he argues.

She’s not one to lose fights, and she tells him about it. The Yakuza pays her good money to fight in underground rings, and they wouldn’t hedge their bets on her if she lost. Satoru counters it by telling her that he’s never lost a fight— maybe for a second or two, but he always comes out on top.

“Really? Last time I saw you, you didn’t end up on top at all,” she teases him, remembering the way she made him beg to fuck her.

“That was an ambush,” he says. “You just caught me off guard. Won’t happen again, trust me.”

“Yeah? We’ll see about that, Satoru. I’m disappointed you didn’t actually knock my IUD loose if you’re that strong.”

“We can always try again.”

Satoru is a fucking flirt, a huge one, and she’s starting to like it. Maybe it’s a little Stockholm Syndrome, because they’ve been living together for weeks now, but she’s starting to actually like him. Before, they could’ve fucked again and went their separate ways, and that would be all there is to it.

But now…

Now, she doesn’t know. It’s just so easy to fall into a routine with him, to forget the situation and enjoy hanging out with him, despite the looming threat that he might try to kill her someday if she ever loses control.

There’s chemistry between the two of them, chemistry that’s growing and changing with every day that they spend together. She’s never been one to fall in love or get attached for long, always too ready to move onto the next thing to get caught up in feelings.

But all of these little moments between them during their time together are adding up, piling on top of each other, until whatever it is between them feels like more. His hand on the small of her back when he passes by her, a gentle touch here and there when she starts to spiral, even a hug one time.

He says “Morning, beautiful” when she’s just rolled out of bed, curls sticking up in every direction and a sour look on her face. Always with a sarcastic drawl and a shit-eating grin on his face.

She usually just rolls her eyes about it, but maybe she likes it a little. And he’s funny— the fucking nerve of him to look like that and be funny. She’s never met a man that can make her laugh like he does.

The way he looks at her now— it’s more than fleeting affection. His gaze is lovestruck. She never thought the icy blue color of his eyes could look so warm. She misses him when he’s gone, and he always gives her the biggest grin when he comes back. Mutual attraction has blossomed and thickened. It’s been weeks of this now, and they’re unlikely friends.

They give each other shit when neither of them can seem to say something nice, but when she looks at him, her insides feel tight, like she can’t breathe. She can tell he feels it, too, by the way that he always wants to be close to her. He’ll make any excuse to sit next to her, to put his arm around the back of the couch when they’re smoking together, which has become a little bit of a ritual now. It makes it easier to forget their circumstances and just talk, which they somehow end up doing for hours.

He always says how much he likes her curls, how much he likes the look on her face when she gets a wicked idea, her smart mouth and her attitude. He likes the way she dances, likes the way her body moves when she’s drunk, and the music is loud.

She sees the way he looks at her, sees the way he takes care of her when she’s struggling with the memories that won’t leave her alone. They’re coming back thicker now, heavier than they were before. She feels haunted by it all, haunted by the life that she’s lived in complete ignorance to what she really is.

More than anything, she’s haunted by her father. Sukuna, the worst human-turned-curse that has ever existed, at least in Japan. Why did her mother fall for him? For a fucking monster? And where does that leave Sundari?

She knows herself; she knows that she can be destructive, she can be cruel. There’s an ache inside of her that longs for violence, an itch that she used to scratch with cage-fights and beating the living fuck out of men who abused sex workers, in her past life. She knows now that even if her causes were righteous and good, she enjoyed it.

The blood, the violence, the chance to unleash the demon within herself that she knows is there. It’s just beneath her skin.

In a moment of self-collapse, she tells Satoru the truth.

“I never wanted to be his daughter,” she says, curled in on herself in her vulnerability, knees pressed to her chest. “I do my fucking best to not be destructive like he is, but everyone— your higher-ups, whoever the fuck else, they’ll only ever see me for these.”

She gestures to the thick bands of black ink around her wrists.

“I’ll never be free from people who want to control me for it. I can’t even fucking hide them like he can,” she mutters, frustrated and angry. “And even if I like you, I can’t stay here forever, so what do we do when this is over?”

“You could work with me,” Satoru offers quietly from where he sits beside her.

He doesn’t invade her space; he knows that she wouldn’t want him to right now. Instead, he sits with her, and he listens. Patiently, quietly— he doesn’t talk over her, he doesn’t give her solutions unless she asks for them. He’s kind to her, gentle with her when he can tell that she needs it.

She has no fucking clue what to do with that.

“And everyone we work with will only ever see me as a monster,” she answers, shaking her head.

“Maybe, but you don’t have to prove them right,” he says. “You’re nothing like him, Sundari. I’ve talked to him, I’ve seen him. You’re less destructive than you think you are, and you make an effort to be good, to do the right thing. That’s what matters, that’s what makes the two of you so different. He wants violence, you want to control yourself and do the right thing.”

“Does it matter? Will anyone other than you ever believe me?”

She looks at the tattoos and despises them, wishes she could scrub them from her skin. This isn’t what she’s ever wanted to be. It wasn’t ever her choice, but the world will treat her like it was.

“They will if you prove them wrong,” he says.

A moment of silence lapses between the two of them, as they sit together in the living room, quiet and ruminating. Sundari’s frustration feels like fire in her veins. Even now, she’s struggling to contain everything within her. Her body isn’t big enough to fit all of this power inside it without an outlet.

“What if we tested it out?” She asks, looking up at him, an idea on the tip of her tongue. “Just a little fight between the two of us— let me see if I can control it without breaking everything and losing control.”

Satoru’s lips curve up into a hint of a smile. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask that.”

She realizes that she’s falling for him in that moment, that all of this forced cohabitation has become something more to her, something that tastes like love on her tongue, even when she can’t bring herself to say it.

Instead, she says, “Okay. Just don’t cry about it too much when I win.”

“Ha, I could say the same to you,” he answers, and she knows his words taste like love, too.

It’s a friendly fight, Satoru reminds himself, as Sundari lunges for him again. She’s fast— faster than he imagined she would be, and she’s good. Resilient, too. She doesn’t wear down easily— her cursed energy is still thrumming through the air after half an hour of hand-to-hand combat.

Her fighting style is unique, foreign to Satoru. She wasn’t trained in Japan, that much is clear, based on the way that she moves. The hand signs that she uses when she activates her technique against his are ones he’s never seen before.

It wears him down to keep up with her unfamiliar movements. If he were anyone else, he’d have lost this fight half an hour ago due to the way she continues to periodically drain his cursed energy.

But Satoru isn’t just anybody. His reserves are infinite, and he can tell that she’s realizing that, based on the scowl she’s sporting.

“C’mon, Sundari— stop holding back,” he taunts her, after barely dodging one of her well-timed punches. She’s strong.

And she looks fucking good with a thin sheen of sweat on her skin, whipping around to dodge when he teleports behind her and aims a blow to the middle of her back. She almost blocks it, but he’s quicker than even her eyes can track. It lands, a punch straight to the chest, which sends her flying backwards into a tree.

That should be the end of it, he thinks, when she gets back up with a wild, feral smile on her face. A little bit of blood trickles down from her lip, and for some god-forsaken reason, his pants feel a little tighter. She lunges for him again, and again. It’s a miss, but she manages to put him on the defensive again. He lifts up into the air to avoid a kick, and she drags him back down, which he counters with an elbow.

“Stop fucking running if you think I’m holding back,” she taunts him in turn, before he sends her flying off out of view for a split second.

He thinks that surely another hit like that will make her surrender. God, they’ve been at it all morning. His pulse is racing— he’s never fought anyone as strong as she is. It’s a fucking rush. The blood in his body doesn’t know if it should focus on his brain or his dick. Sundari fights like a warrior, like a goddess.

She emerges from the tree line with two extra arms extending from her shoulder blades. She rolls them out, unphased at the changes to her body. There’s an extra mouth on her exposed stomach with sharp teeth, grinning at him with the same expression as the one on her face.

His blood is definitely headed to his dick. That is a goddess. A vengeful, wild goddess. Her curls have come undone, fanning out around her beautifully, while she practically glows with cursed energy. Satoru has wanted her for weeks now, he’s wanted her since he first saw her again, but right now? Satoru needs her.

He needs to see his goddess sprawled out beneath him, hot and sweaty and snapping at him with her sharp teeth, crying out for more as he fucks her. He wants to feel all four of her arms on him, pulling him in closer, he wants the extra mouth to lick him while his tongue is down her throat.

She’s on him before he can blink, and this time— he doesn’t hold back.

The blows shared between them are so rapid, neither has time to think. The sounds of skin meeting skin with dull thuds and their heavy, panting breaths are the only noises to be heard. He can barely regenerate his cursed energy at the same speed that she withers it away, and he realizes distantly that he might have never felt as alive before.

One failed movement, and he’s on top of her. His own goddess is hissing out curses underneath him, struggling against his strength as he pins her down to the dewy, wet grass beneath them.

“Yield,” he demands, voice low and breathless.

“Fuck you,” she spits back, locking her legs around his waist to try and flip him. He doesn’t budge, not this time. There’s only one thing on his mind.

“Yield, Sundari,” he says again, this time with a coaxing warmth.

All four of her eyes are wide, pupils dilated to the point that her garnet eyes look black. She still struggles against him, but she’s slowing down, realizing how close they are. Very close, at that. Satoru’s on top of her with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pressed against her at every intimate junction with his fingers fastened around two of her wrists.

Her other arms have receded back into her, given the position they’re in and the shift of the mood.

“I said fuck you,” she repeats herself, quieter this time, as her eyes flit between his own and his lips. “I’m not yielding.”

“You sure?” He murmurs, as his nose brushes hers. “You look like it. You look like you want to.”

That reignites some of her flame, but she pours it into a different approach this time. Always one to move first, she leans up to crash her lips into his. Satoru returns it with even more ferocity, tongue sweeping between her teeth as he presses her down into the grass, groaning against her lips.

It’s frantic, feverish, the way that she’s tugging at his clothes, and he’s tugging at hers. His cock throbs against the confines of his briefs, as he’s yanking her athletic shorts down her legs and moving his attention to her neck. She nearly growls when he sinks his teeth into her skin, sucking a bruise into the side of her neck.

She meant it when she said she wasn’t submitting to him, he realizes, as she flips them over with the practiced ease of a fighter, situating herself on top of him. Her hand slips underneath his shirt, desperate for touch and seeking more, more, more of it.

“Ready to start begging again, Satoru? You did it so well last time,” She purrs, grinning wickedly, as she scrapes her teeth against his collarbone, eager to slip lower.

“Ha, in your fucking dreams,” he says, before slamming her onto her back.

She gasps, but he knows she can take it. He’s been fighting with her for an hour and tossed her into more than a few tree trunks, she can handle it. If the wide-eyed look on her face is any indication, she likes it. One hand around her throat, he slips the other down her body and between her thighs to feel her wetness. And god, she’s soaking.

Circling her clit with his fingertips, he smiles down at her and knows that he looks just as feral as she does. She writhes underneath him, back arching.

“You got me once, baby. I’ll give you that,” he admits breathlessly, slipping two fingers inside to draw out a strangled moan. “But this time, you’re gonna fucking beg for it. You’re going to tell me how bad you want me to fuck you, and I’ll think about it if you ask nice enough.”

“You—You’re a fucking dick,” she says, but it’s hard to talk when she’s moaning. “Not begging, not doing it.”

“Yeah?”

He knows how she likes it; he remembers her body well. Her pussy sucks in his fingers greedily, as he wraps a hand around her throat and squeezes.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he murmurs reverently, honestly. “You’re such a brat too, but you’re gonna take it so good for me, aren’t you? Telling me what a fucking dick I am, while you’re this wet for me?”

“Fuck you,” she says, but it’s a whine more than anything.

She’s getting close, he can tell. The adrenaline still pumping through her veins makes it easier to get close without him having to work for it. He’ll edge her time and time again until she’s a mess, slick and wet and crying for him. He traces the tattoos along her chest with his fingertips when he finally releases her throat, rolling one of her nipples between his fingers. Her walls constrict around his fingers, but he retreats before she can cum.

One, two, three times. He brings her to the edge until she’s all but snapping at him, hissing out curses and whines.

“Say please, Sundari,” he murmurs, low and taunting. “Say please, and I’ll make you cum. I’ll make you cum so hard— I know you want it, you’re so wet for me.”

“Fuck— Fuck,” she mewls, rocking her hips against his fingers, as if he’ll let her cum. “Please— Please? Please, Satoru,” she finally relents.

“Good fucking girl,” he praises, leaning down to kiss her, as he finally lets her stumble over the edge. “So fucking good for me,” he coos against her lips, as she spasms beneath him, whining and humping his fingers through her orgasm.

The shockwaves of it barely have time to end before he’s slipping his cock into her warmth, hissing out a breath at the way she sucks him in. So wet, and so tight. He can’t help himself, can’t wait a second for her to adjust to his length, he sets a brutal pace in fucking her.

“So fucking good,” he growls against her lips, biting her lower one until he can taste her blood. “That’s it— fucking take it, take all of it.”

He maneuvers her over onto all fours, pressing a hand down to the apex of her spine to force her into a severe arch, as she moans incoherently beneath him. The sound of his hips flush against her ass makes him bite his lip, muscles tensing and flexing involuntarily as he tries to hold back from finishing inside her. She’s about to cum, he can tell, but not without permission.

“Beg for it, tell me how much you fucking want it,” he demands, moving to cover her body with his own, murmuring in her ear. “Know you want it; know you want me to fill up your pussy— don’t you?”

“Yes— yes— please,” she whines, and Satoru’s ego swells to new heights upon seeing this goddess falling apart underneath him.

“That’s it, just like that— don’t stop— tell me how much you fucking need it,” he rasps against the shell of her ear, tugging her earlobe between his teeth.

And she does— she begs beautifully, knees buckling as she trembles through another orgasm. Satoru chases her down to the ground, slamming himself into her over and over again until his entire body seizes up with pleasure. He bites down hard on her shoulder when he comes, filling her up with every drop of his cum.

The two of them stay like that for a while to catch their breath, still half-clothed and panting against each other in the crater they just fucked into the earth.

“Still a dick,” she reminds him, which draws a chuckle out of him.

“You yielded, didn’t you?” He says arrogantly, kissing the nape of her neck as he pulls off of her.

“You’re hearing things,” she says, sitting up to readjust her top. “I never surrendered to you, and I never will. At least, not in a fight.” She winks at him, and he smiles back at her.

Fuck, he’s pretty sure he’s in love with her.

Later that night after a shower and some food, Sundari sleeps in Satoru’s bed for the first time. It feels natural, after all they’ve done. They fucked again after that— inside, this time, rather than outside in the wet grass. Neither of them broached the topic of feelings, but they both know it’s there. Something intangible but real settling between the two of them.

After such a long day, she falls asleep almost immediately, only to be plagued by dreams again.

This one, however, is different from the rest.

She’s standing in her hometown, far from Japan and Satoru and everything else. Back in her old life, where she was The Godslayer, dressed in the trappings of a demigoddess worshiped by her people. This isn’t uncommon in her dreams, but she has an unexpected visitor in this one.

A monk, it seems. His hair is black and long, silky as he moves toward her with a deceptively serene smile on his face. Stitches sit on his forehead, which draws her attention and makes her wary.

“Sundari,” he says. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you. Gojo Satoru has made it exceedingly difficult to reach you in the past few months.”

Immediately, she’s suspicious. Whoever this monk is, she doesn’t like the energy he emanates. She doesn’t like the look on his face— so calm, so unbothered, he must be hiding something.

“And what do you want?” She asks, straight to the point.

He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want something from her. Satoru warned her that the higher-ups of the jujutsu society might not be the only people that are looking for her. This monk strikes familiarity somewhere within her, as if she’s seen him before but can’t remember it for some reason.

“Still as blunt as ever, I see,” he says, sitting next to her. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Of course you do.”

“Sukuna has returned, as has your power,” he says. “Do you know why you were sealed?”

She grits her teeth, unwilling to answer. He knows something that she doesn’t, but she’s not naive enough to be tempted by whatever he’s offering until she knows what he wants in exchange for it.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he says in her silence. “There are so many mysteries surrounding you, most of which are unknown even to you. Your father, who he is and how you came to be. The seals on your back, an entire life lived that you can only remember bits and pieces of.”

She thinks of her mother in that moment. Nadja would know, she’s certain. The monk has piqued her curiosity— of course she wants to know who she was before her memories disappeared, and of course she wants to know about her father, even if she’d never admit it aloud.

If she had to ask anyone, it would be her mom.

Seemingly reading her mind, the monk laughs. “Nadja thinks of you as a child, even after all these years. She’d never tell you anything.”

“And I’m guessing you can,” she says, annoyed at this long-winded speech.

“Correct,” he agrees. “I can reveal it all to you, shed light on every shadow in your life. I’ve watched you closely since you were born, Sundari. I even helped to put those seals on your back after you slaughtered that town.”

Sundari’s eyes grow wide, horrified at the implication.

“What do you want?” She demands again.

“I want your cooperation in the coming days,” he offers nonchalantly. “Sukuna will regain his full power sooner rather than later, and he’ll fight alongside me in an… event that I’m planning. You could meet him for yourself, let him tell you about his relationship with Nadja, and I could fill in all of those blank spots that you can’t stop obsessing over.”

“So, you want to have control over me when you do something big and fucked up in the future,” she says with an eyeroll. “Got it.”

She seemingly cannot stop running into people that want to control her or collar her. Even Satoru isn’t immune to that. As much as she likes to live in the fantasy of their relationship, she knows that his goal at the end of this is to contain her. In that way, he’s not so different to the monk.

“I want to work with you,” he corrects her. “In exchange, you’ll know everything, including your father. I know you’re not interested now, you think you have other options, so I’ll give you time. When you realize that I’m the only source for uncovering the mysteries your mother keeps from you, I’ll find you. Until then, Sundari.”

He presses a hand to her shoulder, a way of saying goodbye, and she wakes with a sharp gasp, bolting upright in the bed.

Satoru is awake in an instant, eyeing her warily in the darkness.

“Nightmare?” He asks groggily.

For a moment, she considers keeping it to herself, just in case. Deep inside, she knows that even if Satoru likes her— even if he loves her— his ultimate goal is not so different to the monk. He wants to control her; he wants her freedom. She’s given it to him by agreeing to stay here willingly for so long, why should she offer up more of herself to someone who will use her like a pawn?

They all do. That’s all she is to them. Whether it’s the monk, or Satoru, or the higher-ups, or her mother— they want to own her, to contain her. They want her collared and docile, so that she doesn’t self-destruct and take the world down with her, like Sukuna.

“What do you want out of this?” She asks, defensive and guarded.

Satoru sits up, shaking his head at her. “What do you mean?”

“What do you want from this? From me? What’s your goal?”

“To protect you,” he says. “I’ve told you that from the beginning—”

“No— you know I don’t need protecting. What is it? Is it just control?”

No one has ever protected Sundari, nor have they ever needed to. She’s been on her own, and she’s been fine that way. If anything, she’s always been the protector, the savior, the one who helps when things go to shit, and someone needs muscle to deal with it.

“Control?” He asks, huffing out a laugh. “Is that what you think this is?”

“What should I think? Why else would you keep me here?”

He scoffs. “I don’t know what you saw in that dream, but the past month you’ve been here, the only thing I’ve done is protect you. The higher-ups want you dead, god knows who else wants you dead— I keep them away from you,” he says, unwavering. “I just want to keep you safe, to make sure that no one wants to use you for their own gain.”

“So that you can use me instead, right? At the end of this? I’m powerful, so you need to contain me, collar me, make sure I don’t fuck you over—”

“Sundari,” he says sharply, cutting her off. “Do you think I could control you, even if I wanted to? If you wanted to leave here right now and go be a force of fucking nature, do you think I could stop you?”

She stares at him, unsure of her answer. Could he?

“You’re not a pawn to me, you are not something I need to keep under my thumb,” he continues. “You’re an equal to me,” he admits softly. “In every way, I see you as an equal, and the only thing I’ve ever wanted is to keep you away from people who won’t see you that way.”

“Why?” She murmurs, uncharacteristically soft and fragile.

“I love you,” he says. “I— I don’t know if it’s too soon, or— fuck, I don’t know, but I do. I love you, love the way you laugh, love your bad attitude, love the way you fuss and fight with me. I want to be with you— I don’t want to take your freedom, I want to work alongside you, just– I want to be near you,” he murmurs.

“You love me?” She mumbles, leaning closer.

“I love you,” he repeats, placing a hand on her cheek. His eyes scan along her face for any reaction. “That’s all there is. I don’t care what you are, or what other people think you are, I just want to keep you safe.”

Maybe she can believe him, if only for right now. The monk’s offer is still on the table, still a temptation that she’ll have to grapple with, but this is real. She’s never been looked after before like this, she’s never had anyone feel the need to protect her, to keep her safe. She’s always been strong— when has there ever been the need for it?

But Satoru is strong, too, and she understands the way he feels. She wants to protect him, too, whatever the cost may be. If anything happened to him, she’d lose her fucking mind, she’d destroy everything in her path.

“Okay— Okay. I’ll work with you,” she murmurs, pressing her forehead to his. A little grin creeps up on her face. “Under the condition that I want strong opponents— I want to fight people that are worth it.”

“Done,” he says, smiling back at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathes. “I— I love you. It might be too soon, but–”

He kisses her before she can say another word, and for the time-being, they’re happy.

Writing © 2024 @septembersums and posted with permission. Sundari Hikmat © 2024 @osunism. Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost anywhere without permission [reblogging original posts is okay]. This includes my masterlist and fic format as well as feeding my writing to an AI garbage machine. I only upload on Tumblr, AO3, and FFN. Title and footer banners by me. Dividers and support by @cafekitsune.

☕️ Member of the @pixelcafe-network.

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anesthesia-beta · 5 months ago

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Wifey’s mad because Nanami missed date night to “hang out” with work husband and work child, Gojo & Itadori. He has some making up to do 😂.

#ametuer artist #ditigal art #artists on tumblr #black oc #oc tag #black reader #jujutsu nanami #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen fanart #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu itadori

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tiny-wooden-robot-fics · 4 months ago

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Magnolia - Chapter Eleven

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing(s): Geto Suguru x Original Female Character, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru x Original Female Character Additional Tags: Vampire AU, Dark Themes, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Depression, Loneliness, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

A/N: More tags will be added as chapters are updated. Please be mindful of the tags and warnings at the beginning of each chapter, as they will tell you what you need to know about the content within.

Minors, DNI.

Summary:

“How am I supposed to present the idea of immortal life to a woman who tried to kill herself a year ago?”

“Maybe don’t lay it out like an option on a menu - that probably wouldn’t go over well. But if she loves you, that means she loves being with you and probably doesn’t want to go anytime soon anyway.” Satoru reaches out, smoothing Suguru’s hair back from his face. “Just keep giving her reasons to want to live, like you have been doing,” he concludes simply.

Suguru is quiet, contemplating his words. As usual, Satoru can see very clearly something he’s been obscuring by overthinking it.

Chapter Navigation 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Read on AO3

Chapter Warnings: None A/N: Thought I would squeeze in an update in between out of town trips. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Eleven: My Love Is As a Fever

“You seem upset.” Satoru makes the observation nonchalantly, one leg crossed over the other as he watches Suguru rifle through one of his bags.

“I’m not upset,” Suguru murmurs, pulling on the pair of boxer briefs he’s taken out of the bag. “But we were kind of in the middle of an important conversation there. And I don’t…” He trails off and shakes his head. “I suspect she won’t want to continue it now.”

“Because I’m here?”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t get it,” Satoru shrugs. “She knows I’m fine with the two of you sleeping together, right?”

“She knows,” Suguru affirms. “The thing is,” he continues, joining Satoru on the sofa, “it’s a little more complicated than just sleeping together.”

Satoru looks back at him, his blue eyes bright with amused understanding. “Oh ho ho,” he chuckles. “You like her.” He leans forward, looking closer. “Oh,” he says when he catches sight of the expression on the other man’s face. “That’s a little more than like, Suguru. Does she know?”

“No. We’d just gotten to the part where she admitted how she feels.”

Satoru puts his palms together, bowing his head contritely. “Men-go*... you know I didn’t mean to step on your moment, right?”

Suguru can’t help but to laugh. “I know. You could have called, though.” He offers Satoru a wry smile before leaning over to bestow a kiss on his lips. “Okaeri.”

“Mmm.” Pleased, Satoru wiggles his nose. “So what are you gonna do?”

“What do you mean, what am I going to do?” Suguru asks witheringly. “This involves you too, Mr. ‘I’m not fond of humans.’”

“Yeah, but this isn’t like Nanako and Mimiko,” Satoru rebuts. “This isn’t some child you feel responsible for raising. You may have rescued this woman, but she’s very much a woman. I’ve seen her---”

“Satoru,” he interjects warningly.

“---assets,” Satoru finishes, despite the warning. “All jokes aside,” he goes on, his voice solemn and quiet, “it’s obvious that she’s different. That she means something different to you than Nanako and Mimiko did. Even so… you know that I’ll support whatever you want to do, just like I did with the girls.”

“Oh, and look how far doing what I wanted got Nanako and Mimiko,” Suguru mutters bitterly.

“That won’t happen here,” Satoru sighs. He pauses. “Especially not if you turn her.”

“How am I supposed to present the idea of immortal life to a woman who tried to kill herself a year ago?”

Suguru is quiet, contemplating his words. As usual, Satoru can see very clearly something he’s been obscuring by overthinking it.

“I know you’ve never loved it that I’m gone so often and I stay away so long,” Satoru goes on. “And I wish I could say it’s something I’ll get out of my system at some point. But I can’t. You’ve never asked me to stay in one place forever, and I’ve never asked you to come along with me when I move around. I love you, and if you love her and want her to stay, it would make me happy to know there’s someone home with you when I’m not. And who knows?” He adds, poking his tongue out playfully. “If I stick around long enough, I might end up falling for her too.”

Suguru opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of soft footfalls on the stairs stops him. Both men turn just in time to see Lia descend the last of the stairs. She’s freshly showered, dressed in her pajamas.

“I’m sorry I tied up your shower,” she offers.

“Ah, you just broke one of Suguru’s cardinal rules,” Satoru asserts with a grin. “Apologizing for something you shouldn’t.”

“Oh, right,” Lia exclaims softly, fiddling with the ties on her pajama bottoms. “Old habits, I guess.”

“It’s okay. He tells me I don’t apologize enough for the things I should apologize for. Maybe you and I can balance each other out.”

It makes her giggle a little, and Satoru seems pleased.

“Are you hungry?” Suguru asks, rising from the sofa.

“A little,” she admits. “But I don’t mind cooking - you’re probably wanting a shower too, aren’t you?”

“She’s got a point, Suguru. You smell like sex.”

One set of eyes looks away from him; the other glares daggers at him. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he says hastily, putting his hands up in mock surrender, “I’ll take good care of her while you’re showering, and I promise not to touch any of the food.”

Puzzled, Lia looks between the two men.

“Satoru is a horrible cook,” Suguru explains. “If you let him so much as chop a vegetable, he will find a way to ruin it.”

“Duly noted,” Lia nods. Both men are surprised to see that she’s actually smiling. “You can leave it to me.”

“See?” Satoru wiggles his eyebrows. “Go get cleaned up - we’ll be fine.”

My love is a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the sill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. Past cure I am, now reason is past care, And frantic-mad with evermore unrest; My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are, At random from the truth vainly express’d; For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. -William Shakespeare, Sonnet 147

Her hands are shaking.

It isn’t that she’s afraid of him. While it is true that she doesn’t know him well at all, she knows that Suguru would never have left her alone with him if he felt Satoru would harm her.

But the situation is bizarre. For so long, it has felt like she and Suguru have been living in their own little world, way out here on the edge of the woods where life is quiet and she is learning to look forward to every tomorrow. Hearing that Satoru is unbothered by the prospect of Suguru sharing his bed with someone else is one thing; witnessing his nonchalance firsthand is an entirely different thing.

She isn’t quite sure how to behave.

And then there is the matter of her unintentionally confessing her feelings to Suguru, and the unfinished conversation surrounding those feelings. It’s all an unresolved knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, making her tense and nervous.

“Do you like wine?” Satoru calls from the living room. It startles her, makes her jump, and she nearly burns herself.

“Y-yes,” she calls back.

There is no further inquiry for a few minutes, and she returns her attention to the food she’s making. When Satoru comes back into the kitchen, he is carrying two bottles of wine. “Cab or Merlot?”

“Umm… it doesn’t matter,” she answers. “I like them both.”

“Merlot it is,” he announces. He sets both bottles down and begins rummaging in a drawer. “Where the fuck is the corkscrew?”

“Oh,” she says, reducing the burner heat and joining him on the other side of the kitchen. “He moved all that stuff to this drawer,” she says, motioning to it. “All the corkscrews and can openers and stuff.”

“Ooooh, you’re handy to have around.” Once he’s got the wine open, he pours a glass for her and a glass for himself. He settles himself at the kitchen island to watch her cook in much the same way that she often settles there to watch Suguru.

It surprises her that it doesn’t make her feel uncomfortable.

“Suguru teases me because I can’t cook,” he says after a few minutes of watching her. “Especially since I do like to.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I do.” He reaches over, filching one of the tomatoes she’s set out for the salad. “I’m kinda envious that you’re both good at it.”

“I hated cooking before I came here,” she confesses.

“Oh?” He raises one pale eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because eating was just something I had to do,” she explains honestly. “I didn’t enjoy it, so I didn’t enjoy cooking. I ate all the same things all the time… and I didn’t really care about learning how to make new food or try different things.” She pauses. “A couple of months after I got here, Suguru suggested that we try a new recipe every week for a month.

“That… was fun,” she smiles, remembering. “It sort of built my appreciation for the love and care that goes into a meal when you prepare it for someone you care about. And it made cooking more fun.”

“Hmm, that does sound really nice,” he admits. “So what you’re saying is you really care for Suguru.”

She freezes, her fingers hovering over the salad bowl. It doesn’t escape his notice that her hand is shaking.

“I suppose it was a bit unfair to spring that on you,” he muses thoughtfully. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like I was antagonizing you.”

She surprises herself with the words she says next. “Would you have a problem with it if I did? Care for him, I mean,” she clarifies.

Her words seem to surprise him, too. “Eh?” He looks at her with those unnervingly clear eyes of his. “I didn’t know you a year ago, but it seems to me like where you were then and where you are now are as different from each other as night and day.”

Lia shakes her head. “What do you mean?”

“You tried to kill yourself,” Satoru points out bluntly. “A little less than twelve months ago, you were bleeding out of your wrists in the middle of the woods, preparing to die. I don’t know what your life was like back then, but I venture to say that you’re no longer in that same headspace.

“You just told me how much you enjoy cooking now, and eating. You seem to like living here - to enjoy life with Suguru. He tells me sometimes how your eyes light up when you talk about things you enjoy. The list is long, and you should see the way his face softens up when he talks about it. You seem to be happy, and that makes him happy. If loving him is a side effect of all of that,” he goes on reasonably, “why would I have a problem with it?”

His blunt, discerning words have left her utterly speechless. She’s still frozen, rooted to the spot in front of the kitchen island with her shaky hands hovering over the salad bowl when Suguru comes in a few seconds later. “That smells good,” he says. He looks between them, sensing he’s missed something. “Am I… interrupting?”

“Not at all,” Satoru smiles blithely. “I was just about to set the table.”

*Men-go - Gojo says this in JJK 0. It’s the word gomen (which means “I’m sorry” in Japanese) said with the syllables reversed. It’s his way of turning the word a little slangy, and the equivalent of saying something like “my bad” in English.

Chapter Navigation 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Chapter Twelve: Haunted (Coming Soon)

Tag list: @therealestpussyeater

(If you'd like to be tagged in this or any of my other work, please DM me to let me know.)

#tinywoodenrobot fics #JJK #Jujutsu Kaisen #JJK fanfic #JJK fic #Geto Suguru #Gojo Satoru #Black OC #Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru #Geto Suguru x Black OC #Gojo Satoru x Black OC #Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru x Black OC

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ghost-reader07 · 5 months ago

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Title: I'd Let the World Burn (Suguru Geto x Yandere Reader)

Description: Junko is a “little” too obsessed and in love with Suguru Geto. No, like literally, it’s crazy, and very concerning. Her way of thinking isn’t normal. Someone get her therapy. But you know what? Same girl. Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to be blinded by love…. Sometimes.

And for reasons, Geto can’t seem to make up his mind...

Chapter 1 (Teaser): Blinded By Love

Suguru Geto looks at the familiar face before him with dangerous eyes. His clothes dripping wet with the scarlet, red color of the blood of the civilians he just killed. It was a chilly, dark night and there was only this person and him in the midst of all those corpses. His long, black hair fluttering slightly, his cold purple eyes as hard as stone, no emotion portrayed in them.

"Junko," He called, his voice mixed with many different, sorrowful emotions such as hatred, but also pain. Junko Ivansia, a friend of his; someone he wasn’t expecting to see right now out of all times. Damn it, why did it have to be now that she showed up? But...maybe this was for the better that she showed up now, before Satoru or Shoko got to her. He wanted her to come with him, and even if she didn’t have any jujutsu, she...was the only non-sorcerer he can't bring himself to hate. He asked himself countless times why it was this one woman, this one non jujutsu user that he couldn’t bring himself to hate. He wanted to, wanted to hate and shame her like all the rest of them, but he just couldn’t in his heart. He didn’t know what it was about her. Was it her eyes, her sarcasm that pissed him off most days, the nonchalant way she went about life? All of the snarky remarks she would often make to him and Satoru? The weird obsession she shared with Satoru about their favorite anime? He didn’t know. But what he did know was that he wanted to bring her with him in that moment. Because as much as he hated those damned non jujutsu users, this woman was the one he couldn’t bring himself to hate.

"Su...Suguru, what...what are you doing? What is...this?! You're covered in blood" Junko takes a pause, gulping in nervousness, her voice falling to just above a hoarse whisper. "Who's...who's blood is that?" She asks him. Geto took slow steps towards the woman before him, his footsteps leaving bloodied prints as he walked past the dead bodies. His eyes, however, were always fixed on her. He stops right in front of her, the distance of only a few steps between the two of them. He looks down at her, trying to discern the emotions on his face.

“It’s their blood,” he says in a cold, nonchalant voice, as if he was talking about nothing more than the weather. He looked down at Junko, his purple eyes staring like a silent, deadly storm. “What… What happened? Everything was okay? I just saw you last week! Now you’re killing people?! Wh…what?” Junko takes a step back, not evening noticing that she did, or that she was starting to corner herself between Geto and a nearby ally wall. He noticed how she unknowingly corned herself against the wall. He chuckled lowly and took a large step forward, now towering above her as his hand slammed against the wall right beside Junko’s head. He leaned his head down, close to her face, his breath making contact with her dark skin.

The smell of blood was strong in the air, even if they were outside. Junko gags a little, the blood from his clothes getting onto hers. What happened to the man she loved? The man who held her heart? Sure, she thought he was a little weird and unhinged, but not like this. Junko always thought Geto was odd when they first met, almost creepy even. The way he would give her odd nasty looks from time to time then go to laughing and smiling at her the next minute. She could tell he didn’t like her much when they first met, but that never deterred her from thinking he was...well hot. He still hung around her, along with Shoko and Satoru, when they happened to meet her on a mission and she unintentionally helped them. Then they all kept running into each other. They became friends eventually. This was her friend. While he may not act like it and even denied it sometimes, they both knew they were. So... what was going on?!

"Oh...okay, it's not okay.... tell me what's not okay. I'm sure we can figure it out" she smiles nervously up at him. Geto snorts through his nose and rolls his eyes. Junko, ever the mediator and problem solver. Always wanting to talk things out. But he could feel his heart ached, hearing her sweet, naive words. How could she say things so easily when he's doing such horrible things? How can she not hate him? Why wasn’t she screaming or panicking at this point? It angered him how little she seemed to feared him in the moment. It didn’t make any sense.

"Idiot," He scoffs, his hand tightening into a fist against the wall. He looked at Junko with eyes full of pain, like a broken boy. "Some things, cannot be figured out." He says, his voice almost a sorrowful whisper. Junko was shaking, she seemed nervous now, he could see that. Yet she still smiled at him like everything was okay, even if she was forcing it. He could tell, it was nothing like her usual bright smile. "Of course they can, anything can be figured out. Sometimes you just have to think. So....come on Geto, you're trapping me between the wall, let me out so we can talk" she says, ‘smiling’.

(A/N: Guys please let me know if you'd like more chapters! This is a teaser/introduction chapter to a several chapter fanfic idea I have for Jujutsu Kaisen 💜. But I'm still unsure if I should go forward with it 😅. I have the more chapters planned and mostly written I just want outside opinions on if I should scrap this idea or not. Thanks so much for your feedback!)

#Yandere #black oc #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #geto suguru #jjk suguru #suguru x oc #clinically insane #i want him bad #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen shoko

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real-hot-grl-shi · 8 months ago

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y’all 😐

should I make a series with my ocs & jjk bc I got a really good plot/idea, and I already made most of the characters sooooo yeah 🩷

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luminiamore · 8 months ago

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ᴜᴋɪʏᴏ

❦ ════ •⊰ ☯︎ ⊱• ════ ❦

𝖎 𝖆𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖒𝖊.

𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖙𝖍.

❦ ════ •⊰ ☯︎ ⊱• ════ ❦

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧..

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - complete

𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 - complete

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐜 - inprogress

more chapters tbd..

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hazzelle-kento · 5 months ago

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And I’m Back … Now w/ Gojo x Reader 💖

#gojo x chubby reader #gojo x black reader #jjk fanart #anime fanart #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x oc #gojo x poc reader #poc reader #poc #gojo x brown reader #gojo fluff #Biggirlri

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zamtheartist · 3 months ago

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Taleah sitting in Gojo's chair like Holi Would (no pun intented)

#gojo satoru #gojo x black reader #black oc #taleah #procreate #digital art #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x oc #canon x oc #jjk oc #gojo x black oc

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osunism · 3 months ago

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Muse's Fanfic Masterpost

⚠️ Please read before following/interacting. ⚠️

A rebloggable version of this.

I reserve the right to set and maintain boundaries with my blog and my writing. As a rule, I block ageless/blank/minor-run blogs. This blog is run by a real adult and so I only want to interact with other actual adults because my content lends itself to being adult-oriented.

Every original female protagonist I write unless otherwise stated is a dark-skinned Black woman. Sometimes I will include art or a model for closest approximation, but for the most part I make this explicitly clear in the narration.

I usually only write OC/Canon ships. That is central to all of my writing. I know a lot of people are weirdly hostile about OCs being shipped with their favorite characters but I promise you it’s not and never will it ever be that serious. If you’re a dick to me about what I choose to write, at best the only attention you’ll get is a block.

That being said let’s just get this out of the way: I write characters who like to fuck. Sex is going to happen in my work so if that gives you the ick well…you’ve been warned.

I do not take requests. Writing is already very taxing for me given my health issues and schedule, and I want to focus on writing things that I personally enjoy, this includes prompts I choose to participate in.

For my roleplayers and those who like to ship one another’s OCs and do collaborative worldbuilding and headcanons: please ask me first before taking things from my personal sandbox. I’m very protective of my little corner and would rather do things like that with those whom I’ve established a close rapport.

Do not ask me about BioWare [Dragon Age and Mass Effect] content. Yes, my work is still available to read. But I no longer have any interest in creating content for that fandom, so don’t ask me about it.

My purpose and goal in my fanfiction is not to be strictly canon-compliant, and my interpretation of canon events and characters may and likely will differ from yours. Canon is not sacrosanct to me. If you find my work disagreeable because of this, feel free to go read something else suited to your tastes!

If you like my work, pleasepleaseplease share it. Liking my posts or giving kudos on AO3 doesn’t do much if you don’t share it for others to read. Comments are highly encouraged and appreciated as well. It’s always good to see feedback on how people interpret my work. It also helps me refine my writing in order to get my stories across more clearly.

Due to the frequent racist hostility and unpleasantness in other fandoms I inhabit, my comments on AO3 are moderated as a rule. Act like someone raised you right before you interact with me. This includes checking your racial biases at the door.

Below is a list of all my current works. Since I’m currently only active in the JJK fandom, those are the works that’ll be listed! Once other fandoms get active, this list will be sorted and updated!

⛩️ AO3 𑁍 FFN 𑁍 Parallax OCs 𑁍 Sonder OCs 𑁍 Headcanons & Meta ⛩️

Fic Status Key

[♡] - AO3 version.

[⭑] - Tumblr version.

[♤] - Fanfiction(dot)net version.

[🚩] - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

[🔏] - Commissioned Fic

[∞] - In Progress

[☥] - Rewriting

[☯] - Complete

[📿] - Parallax

[🔮] - Sonder

[🪄] - Lost Worlds & Endless Nights

Relationship Key

🧿👹 - Satoru/Sundari

⛩️⚔️ - Sukuna/Nadja

🧿🧜🏾‍♀️ - Satoru/Asabé

⛓️👸🏾 - Toji/Akasha

⛓️👩🏿‍🦱 - Toji/blackfem!Reader

Relevant Tags

#muse writes

#fic rec

#jjk x oc

#jjk x black oc

#jjk fanfic

#jjk fanart

#fic: [ficname]

#series: [seriesname]

#ch: [charname]

#oc: [ocname]

#otp: [shipname]

noun [📿] par·al·lax ˈper-ə-ˌlaks ˈpa-rə- 1. the apparent displacement or the difference in apparent direction of an object as seen from two different points not on a straight line with the object. especially: the angular difference in direction of a celestial body as measured from two points on the earth's orbit.

Nadja Hikmat, an immortal warrior tasked by Heaven itself to hunt Ryōmen Sukuna, falls in love with the sorcerer instead. From that fateful meeting, a ripple of unforeseen changes echos across the sea of time.

Beast of No Nation [♡] [⭑] [♤] – One night, the King of Curses took an over-curious fugitive of heaven to task. Over the course that night, and the many that followed, she found herself continuously drawn to the jujutsu world. [☯] [📿] ⛩️⚔️ || 🧿👹

If [♡] [⭑] [♤] – One night, Satoru meets a woman with strange tattoos who sears a place on his mind and memory. Who is she? [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

Crystalline [⭑]– The night Itadori Yuji takes in Sukuna’s Finger, Satoru sees Sukuna’s cursed energy erupt in Roppongi and finds a familiar face at its epicenter. [🔏] [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

We Might Even Be Fallin' In Love [♡] [⭑] [♤] – The miracle of existence bridges the infinity between them. [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

Daughter of Disgrace [♡] [⭑] [♤] – In the aftermath of Satoru Gojo’s sealing, Sundari must choose rebellion in order to free him. Lucky for them both, rebellion has always been her preferred modus operandi. [☯] [📿] ⛩️⚔️ || 🧿👹

The Godslayer Project [♡] [⭑] [♤] - Coming soon...

The universe conspires to keep one pair's love kept safe. Nadja and Sukuna walk Samsāra, no matter the form, recognizing one another's souls everywhere they meet. Here is how their meeting ripples across the multiverse. [Or: I am in love with these two and here are some AUs I'm cooking up.]

Highball [♡] [⭑] [♤] - The price of peace has a cost. The scales must balance eventually. [Yakuza/Found Family AU]

noun [🔮] 1. the feeling one has on realizing that every other individual one sees has a life as full and real as one’s own, in which they are the central character and others, including oneself, have secondary or insignificant roles: In a state of sonder, each of us is at once a hero, a supporting cast member, and an extra in overlapping stories.

A collection of fics in my sprawling JJK multiverse featuring various protagonists, including the Reader!

The Unforgiving Roads That Lead to You [♡] [♤] – Roxanne Abaza, the only foreign-born special grade sorcerer in existence, is called to assist with the wrangling and exorcism of Ryōmen Sukuna. What ensues is more than she bargained for. [☥]

Halfsleeper [♡] [⭑] [♤] – A young widowed sorceress seeks protection under the aegis of the Honored One, but he has a better idea for keeping her out of the clutches of her dangerous clan. [∞] 🧿🧜🏾‍♀️

Unsanctioned [♡] [⭑] [♤] – Bodyguard/Yakuza AU. Toji Fushiguro, who is in disgrace after having an affair with his boss’ now ex-wife, is now tasked with protecting her as the mercurial grounds of Tokyo’s Underworld begin to shift into uncertainty, putting the entire syndicate and anyone associated with them in peril. [∞] ⛓️👸🏾

Before It's Gone [♡] [⭑] – Toji’s been darkening your doorway for a while and is only now realizing what you already knew. [☯] [🔮] ⛓️👩🏿‍🦱

These are playlists for the fics and characters within my JJK ‘verse. It cannot be overstated how much music plays an integral role in my creative process, and it makes me happy to share it with you all to expand the picture I paint with my stories. A ☮︎ indicates a link to the Spotify version of the playlist. Keep in mind that due to licensing issues [yuck], my personal music library tracks can’t be played on some services so there might be more or less songs, different versions of songs, etc. Still bangers, tho. Enjoy.

🎧 [ fugitive of heaven ] [☮︎]– Nadja Hikmat's playlist. Like her immortal life, this playlist has been curated across decades, evoking imagery of a wild, twisting sojourn through many eras. 🐍

🎧 [ godslayer principle ] [☮︎] – Sundari Hikmat's playlist. Expect atmospheric haunting, psytrance, hard techno, some house, R&B, trap, and strange chanting. 🔱

🎧 [ ritual + bone ] [☮︎] – Roxanne Abaza’s playlist. Witchy, just like our girl likes it.

🎧 [ highball ] [☮︎] – The soundtrack for my Parallax AU: Highball.

© 2024 Hajara Asiri. Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost anywhere without permission [reblogging posts is okay]. This includes feeding any of my writing to an AI as well as copying my masterlist format. I only upload on Tumblr, AO3, and FFN. All general banners and dividers by @cafekitsune.

☕️ Member of the @pixelcafe-network.

🇵🇸 Palestinian Resources - A guide to Palestine as well as resources in order to help with relief efforts for individuals and families. You can also check my main blog for fundraisers I boost as well.

🇵🇸 Nominal - A Palestinian-owned jewelry company with many beautiful and inspired pieces in silver and gold.

🇵🇸 Olive Odyssey - A collective of Palestinian farmers who tend to the ancient olive groves in Palestine. They make a delicious olive oil, and also sell the Palestinian spice seasoning, Zatar. Supporting them puts much-needed funds in the hands of Palestinian farmers, as well as helping families in Gaza.

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