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osunism · 10 days

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Daughter of Disgrace

"Is there any place where Heaven's bastard daughters are welcome?"

Rating: Mature to Explicit [for future sexual content and graphic depictions of violence]. Pairing[s]: Satoru + Sundari || Nadja + Sukuna Warning[s]: Smut, graphic depictions of violence, major character death[s], as well as some toxic relationship elements. Spoilers for the manga, so if you only watched the anime, turn back. Sukuna is his own warning but there is cannibalism, abuse, body horror, and mild torture in this fic. Summary: 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.

🪧 Be Advised: This is the sequel to Beast of No Nation. It's recommended that you read that fic first to get the context of this one.

𓃰 AO3 || OC Masterpost || Fic Masterpost 𓃰

𓃰 Chapter Seven: Anathema

For much of his life Satoru knows that destiny’s hand is heavy on his shoulder. It has been so since the moment he opened his eyes, the sea of of his amniotic changes giving way to the miracle of his lineage’s most prized inheritance. He has known that these gifts, bestowed upon him after so long absent from his bloodline, were meant for a greater purpose. It goes beyond merely exorcizing curses. There is a calling in his abilities that as he came into his own as a young man, took shape.

The Star Plasma Incident, Suguru’s defection and subsequent terrorism.

Suguru’s death.

Satoru’s unwillingness to burn his body, not only for the spiritual repercussions, but because it meant setting fire to the only one who had ever loved him and seen him. It had been his only act of cowardice, and the first stage of his rebellion against the higher ups. They had asked him to kill the man he loved. And then they sought to tighten his leash so that he could not become him. The only one who had ever loved him is dead and they expected him to—well, not the only one. Not any longer.

But fate is not without a sense of irony.

If anyone had told him six months ago that he would meet and fall in love with Ryōmen Sukuna’s only direct descendant—his daughter—Satoru would have laughed. Loudly. Rudely. Because it was an impossibility so beyond the scope of attainability that even his near-clairvoyant Six Eyes could not see it.

And yet, here he is, staring at this woman whom history says should not exist. The higher ups want her blood too. They cannot suffer her to live despite her best efforts to prove she is nothing like her father. Satoru’s only thought when he broke free had been to find her. He had known she’d try something bold, but this…

Sundari stares up at him, her breath still coming in pants, sweat glistening on her skin.

“Yield.” Satoru’s voice is rough with desire, but solid with authority. Sundari has lost two rounds to him already. But not once has she yielded in their spars. She refuses, staring at him with open defiance in all four of her eyes.

“Never,” she whispers. “I’ll die first.”

Satoru can’t deny how hot he finds it when Sundari makes these fierce declarations because he knows her convictions are real. She would rather die than ever yield in battle. His goddess will fight him and anyone else until her body can go no longer. A fearsome creature, a warrior of unyielding and unwavering resolve.

“You always look so pretty under me,” he whispers instead, and like always, his flirtations take Sundari off-guard. Her brows go up, eyes widening slightly. Suddenly the rise and fall of her chest is slower, more measured, and he feels the slight shiver pass through her body. Before she can respond to him in kind, they hear the chattering of the students. Satoru is off of her in an instant, helping her to her feet as they dust themselves off.

“I think Hikmat-san’s almost as fast as Gojo-sensei,” Yuji is saying. Maki rolls her eyes. Of course Sundari is nearly as fast as Satoru. She inherited Sukuna’s immense power. Sundari rubs the back of her head, stretching her aching muscles before Satoru gives her a knowing look.

“Training ground is all yours, kids,” Sundari says as she passes them. “I’m hitting the showers.”

She and Satoru walk side by side in silence. With the adrenaline and heat dissipated, Sundari becomes aware of the brisk autumn air, shivering. Satoru throws his haori over her shoulders. She smiles up at him, and suddenly they are close, his hand finding hers, lacing their fingers.

“You’re such a great sparring partner,” he says. “You should spar with Yuta sometime. He could use some of your fast and loose techniques. Help him think outside the box a little.”

Sundari laughs. “If my mother already trained him then he’s all set. I learned all my dirty tricks from her.”

Satoru chuckles. “Is that why you kicked up all that dust?”

Sundari slaps her forehead. “In my defense, I forgot about your freak-vision! That usually works on opponents who just use their eyes to see and not…whatever the fuck your eyes do.”

Satoru gives her one of his smug grins, and then winks at her with said eyes. Sundari’s cheeks flush with heat and she looks away. Satoru is too pretty for her to look at for too long. Like staring at the sun. Everything about him seems sculpted with terrible beauty and purpose. One would think he’s the asura and not her mother, though Sundari sees the same frightening symmetry in her features, slightly less perfect for want of her father.

They enter the dorms soon after, and as they make their way to the shower, Sundari wonders about something just as Satoru leans in to nip at her earlobe.

“Wanna save some water?” He asks. Sundari shoots him an incredulous look.

“Maybe we should have an emergency meeting in your office,” she says by way of response. “To discuss our upcoming plans.”

Satoru blinks. “Oooh. You are so right. So, a nice long, hot shower, and then an intense meeting in my office.”

Sundari stops walking, crossing her arms to stare at him.

“What?” Satoru asks, grinning. Leering, more like. “I’m just stating the order of the rest of our workday.”

“Uh huh,” Sundari says. “I’m going to actually shower, and you can—”

“I’ll be sure to think of you all hot and wet when I’m fucking my fist.”

“Satoru!”

He doesn’t give her the opportunity to retaliate, and they retreat to the respective showers, men’s on one side, women’s on the other.

In the shower, Sundari takes her first true sigh of relaxation. She learned early on from her mother that there is no problem that a long, hot bath or shower won’t lend perspective to, and she’s not been wrong. Sundari lets the steaming water run over her from head to toe and feels all the soreness in her muscles melt into a languid exhaustion that tells her she and Satoru may very well just cuddle on the couch in his office and nap.

If she is with him, she doesn’t care what they do together.

After her shower, Sundari checks her phone, finding it annoying that the destruction in Tokyo has led to lack of service or spotty service at best. She doesn’t have anyone she wants to contact, save her mother, and since Sukuna took her, it’s been silent. She wonders if her mother will ever have it in her to do her duty. The longer she shirks it, the more people at risk of falling prey to her father.

Sundari tries not to hate her mother for her weakness, but in that moment, she understands. If Satoru were in Sukuna’s place, Sundari would at least try to save him before killing him. But somehow, she doesn’t think her father wants to be saved. One might even say it’s impossible.

Sundari gets dressed, pulling on a pair of loose sweats, a long-sleeved shirt, and piling her braids atop her head. She makes her way to Satoru’s office, finding it empty. He must still be showering. As she waits, it occurs to her she’s never actually been in his office before. She looks around, brow furrowing. It looks like any other comfortable office, but it feels distinctly lacking in personality. There are no knickknacks on his desk, no corkboard of polaroid photos. There is a distinct lack of a person in this office and Sundari finds herself feeling despondent. She knows he works virtually around the clock, but she has never considered what it costs him.

She feels a pair of strong arms slip around her waist. She smiles as Satoru rests his chin on her shoulder.

“Snooping?” He asks in a teasing tone. Sundari huffs out a small laugh.

“Hardly,” she admits. “There’s very little snooping to be done that you’ve not told me yourself.”

Satoru plants a gentle kiss on her shoulder, traces his lips along the curve up to her neck, relishing in her shiver and then her body pressing back against him. He holds her tighter.

“Well, what do you want to know?” He asks. “I’m an open book.”

Sundari’s hands come up, tracing her fingertips over his knuckles. She finds herself loving his hands. She’s never met anyone as strong as her before, and no one strong enough to consider she deserves protection. She smirks.

“Did you think about me in the shower?” She asks. Satoru, to his credit, replies without missing a beat.

“I sure did, that’s why it took me a little longer…” He nuzzles her neck, planting a soft kiss behind her ear. “Plus, you know I like to let you finish first.”

He delights in the flood of heat in Sundari’s cheeks, and she resists the urge to leap out of the nearest window.

They decide to lay on the plush couch together. Sundari rests on her back, and he lays on top of her as if she is the coziest person he’s ever felt, wrapping his arms around her to rest his head on her chest. Without thinking, her hands come up, threading her fingers through his soft hair, stroking his scalp. Satoru lets out a soft groan of pleasure. Since being touched again, he’s always on her. He can’t get enough of the contact. He hasn’t felt this safe with someone since—

“Satoru?” Sundari’s voice is soft.

“Mmn?” Satoru mumbles from between her breasts. Two galactic eyes peer up at her, bleary with oncoming sleep.

“Never mind,” she whispers with a soft smile, stroking his brow with an unhurried thumb. “Go to sleep.”

He blinks, slowly. Sundari massages his temples, and his eyes slip closed as the sun sinks behind the hills and trees. Eventually, Sundari’s eyes close too, and at some point, sleep slips around her and takes her into the dreamless dark. Satoru’s weight is a comfort to her, one she is loath to give up, but she has her Divine Vow to consider. Melancholy wears her brain to exhaustion, and she slips deeper into sleep, willing her mind to be silent.

Satoru wakes up, first.

The sleep he’s gotten is perhaps the best he’s gotten in over a decade. It is a rare moment of true respite, where he does not feel the prickling need to be constantly aware. For a handful of hours, he is allowed to simply rest. After all, he is in the arms of his goddess. His goddess, whom he stands to lose if he doesn’t figure out how to break a Divine Vow.

First, he must deal with Sukuna, then he can deal with the gods. One world-altering crisis at a time.

Slowly, Satoru gets up, and watches as Sundari’s lower eyes open to slits. He gets off her, and then she closes her eyes and continues to sleep. She doesn’t question his motives, and they’ve coexisted enough to learn how to speak without words. Instead, he kneels next to her, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead. For a moment, his expression is pensive, but there is a soft bend to his smile, a dimness to the usual lambency to his gaze, and even a slight slump in his shoulders. He knows he shouldn’t allow himself a moment like this, not when there’s so much to be done. But he has no choice, and even if Sundari won’t let him save her the way she’s saved him, he can at least try.

Fighting her father seems like a great first step. But there’s other loose ends he must now see to, and he gently brushes a stray curl from her face. A tiny eye narrows at him.

“Spit it out, Satoru,” she grumbles. Satoru will never get over how cute she is when she’s grouchy. He smiles.

“There’s something I have to take care of,” he says. “It shouldn’t take long but I don’t want to worry you.”

Four eyes sharpen and focus on him as Sundari shifts to sit up. She is frighteningly intuitive, can tell there’s something worming around the gray matter of his regenerating brain that he is struggling with. She holds his gaze, fearless and demanding, a goddess demanding answers from her equal. Satoru feels a momentary stab of guilt in his belly. He told her he considered her his equal, and that he wanted her to share in this future he envisioned. It had been a rare moment of vulnerability for him, giving a solid foundation to something that for a few years, had been a source of fear.

He’s only ever shared his vision for the future with Suguru, and that love is lost to him.

He doesn’t want to lose another; he didn’t think he’d ever find connection like that again.

“Satoru!” Sundari reaches up, cups his face, brings him back to himself and the present with his name alone, and those four garnet eyes turning to liquid crimson, soft and concerned. He reaches up to grasp her wrists, rubbing circles with his thumbs in a tender gesture to soothe her. She takes a slow exhale, relaxing. Since rediscovering his love of being touched, Satoru never wants to go a day without touching her, hugging his loved ones, or feeling another living thing against him again.

“I’m going to Jujutsu Headquarters,” he says quietly; so quiet the soft, velvet shadows around them could steal the words away. Sundari is quiet, and he can see her connecting the constellations in her mind, cross-referencing conversations with her knowledge of Japan’s stringent and conservative jujutsu society. Her main eyes flutter, sooty lashes making them stand out as her pupils shrink and expand. Her lower set of eyes narrow and he knows he’s seeing Sundari when she has decided on a very permanent course of action.

“I’m coming with you,” she says at last. Something in Satoru’s heart breaks and heals at the same time. In this moment, Sundari reminds her of Yuta. That devotion, that unwavering loyalty, that iron will and determination. Where Yuta gives the appearance of a fragile bloom reinforced by a shocking amount of steel in his soul, Sundari is an unassailable fortress, guarding a generous and loving heart, and a soul that burns as brightly as his own.

Somewhere between them, where infinity always exists, there’s a balance of their natures. The ruined edges of his soul where Suguru had torn himself away feel like they are struggling to reach toward something.

Her.

“Are you sure?” He asks. “Once we go there’s no going back.”

Sundari does not waver. “I’m sure.”

In the end, Satoru realizes there’s no need for subterfuge. The higher ups summon him as soon as they receive word of his unsealing. How fortuitous for them that the culprit of what they declared a grievous crime, has decided to accompany him to this summons. They likely think that they have the two betwixt hammer and anvil. Sundari shares a smile with the darkness of the long corridor when she thinks on how wrong they are.

They come to stand before a large, ornate door. Satoru’s breath has never been steadier, his heartbeat never more consistent.

“I didn’t want my students to see this,” he says softly, and Sundari looks up at him, her lower eyes trained on the door. She doesn’t reach for his hand, but there is a feeling of warmth that passes between them. The business they are about is ugly, bloody work. There will be time for anything else much later.

“Are you ready?” He asks, and Sundari knows he’s asking himself as much as her. She turns all four of her eyes toward the door. Without another word, Satoru pushes them open, and they step into the darkness, the doors shutting behind them.

Sundari doesn’t know what she expected from the inner sanctum of jujutsu society’s most powerful patriarchs, because patriarchs they are. She can immediately see that all the assembled higher-ups are men, hiding behind their rice paper screens in a paltry attempt to be intimidatingly mysterious. She has half a mind to open her domain here and kill them all, but Satoru has a way of doing things.

“You understand the position you’re in, Gojo Satoru?” A gruff and iron voice says from the velvety darkness as Satoru stands at the center. Sundari doesn’t budge.

“I understand the position you’ve put me in,” he says. “Regardless, that’s not going to stop what’s coming.”

“And you brought the abomination here with you!” Another voice, Sundari’s lower eyes cut to her right. She can make out the silhouette of the stooped old bastard behind the illuminated screen.

“You were tasked with the explicit instructions to gather Sukuna’s Fingers and carry out Itadori Yuji’s execution. You have done neither, and as a result Sukuna caused incalculable destruction and all but collapsed the Japanese government in a state of panic! You no longer have the protections of jujutsu society. You are anathema.”

Sundari lets out a quiet and derisive snort, rolling her eyes. She wishes they’d get to the good part, already.

“She’s not an abomination,” Satoru says. “She’s a powerful ally. And for the record: that’s not why I’m here.”

There is a beat of confused silence. Sundari allows herself a slow, excited grin. Ah, finally.

It happens so fast she almost forgets to savor it. These old, conservative men. These men who have dared to collar Satoru and want her to bow her head to their yoke as well. She is not one to take pride in her father’s blood, but he is the King of Curses, and she is his daughter, there is no shackle she will accept from anyone, not even the man she’s fallen in love with.

These men, who have driven so many sorcerers to ruin, come apart like wet tissue paper beneath her hands and his. He wears his infinity like a raincoat, the blood spray never touching him. She wears the blood like war paint, reveling in the slaughter of the people who thought they would ever be able to kill her or Satoru.

Satoru moves like a deadly crack of a whip, so fast she almost can’t see it. He’s strong enough that his punches crater sternums, much like hers. Bedlam carols into the flickering lantern-light of the room; and Sundari almost wants to sing as she kills, dragging a gasping and gurgling old sorcerer through his screen, fingers digging into his throat until the skin bursts and she forces her way past tough muscle, her fingertips scraping the blood and lymph-slick bones, which she crushes to fragments in her preternatural grip, leaving the body limp and lifeless as she moves away. She is a deadly brushstroke across their lives, and when she’s done, her arms weltering in the blood and gore up to her elbows, blood splattered across her face, she lets herself laugh. In this moment, she is exactly like her father.

They leave in silence, Satoru and his blood-splattered goddess, and though her hand is covered in blood, he takes it in his, lacing their fingers with a tight squeeze. He pulls her into his arms wordlessly, and they vanish as dawn begins to color the sky.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. “Good & Plenty” by Alex Isley, Masego, Jack Dine

It’s been some time since either of them have been in his apartment, but it’s easy to break into when your seals keep everyone else out. Sundari smirks as she looks out over Tokyo which, for the most part, is still intact enough that normal life has not been entirely disrupted in some parts. Still, the dawn spilling into the living room reminds her of the first time she and Satoru met earlier in the year.

“Just like the first time,” Satoru says, remembering as well. “Uh…only with more blood.”

Sundari lets out a laugh and they retreat to his bedroom, stripping as they go. Satoru opts to run the shower, and they scrub themselves clean, sharing smiles and laughter without words. And then, they run a bath to soak in to finish off. At some point their utilitarian shower becomes a rare moment of self-care. The tub is large and deep enough for both and she settles between his legs easily, leaning back against him with a satisfied groan.

They don’t talk about it. There’s not much that can be said. The self-proclaimed leaders of jujutsu society declared them an enemy for crimes neither of them committed. They merely responded in kind.

“Tell me about him,” Satoru murmurs. “You fought your dad in Shibuya, what can I expect?”

Sundari blinks. That’s what he wants to know about right now? She supposes she can’t blame him, but if he’s asking her, she knows it can only mean that he’s uncertain he can clinch a decisive victory. And the time of their duel is fast-approaching. She doesn’t understand why she feels conflicted about it.

“My dad’s as powerful as you are,” she says. “And he fights like an actual demon. You’re the more refined martial artist, but my dad knows how to do hairpin turns with his tactics. I don’t think he was trained in jujutsu conventionally.”

“Seems to run in your family,” Satoru teases and she elbows him as he laughs.

“It’s not just that…it’s his domain. When he expanded it in Shibuya, it was open…like mine. What’s worse, is it attacks any and everything until he dismisses it. Oh! Aaaand he can shoot a powerful exorcism arrow made of divine flame.”

Satoru’s brows go up. “Wait? Fire? How?”

Sundari shrugs. “I don’t know. I think…I think I used to be able to do it too, but I haven’t been able to remember how to summon it. I think he has a binding vow around his.” It’s not like she could have asked him since he was busy fighting Megumi’s shikigami.

“If you plan to beat him you have to finish him as quickly as possible,” Sundari warns. Satoru makes a small groan. “Satoru, I’m serious. This is…he only ends jujutsu duels one way. I don’t want to see you sustain any more hurt than is necessary to win.”

Satoru grins. “Aww, Sundari, are you worried about me?”

Sundari sighs. “Of course I’m worried about you! My father scares the shit out of me. I’ve never seen anyone with such callous disregard not just for human life, but life in general.”

Satoru frowns, leaning into to nuzzle her neck, pressing comforting kisses on her skin. It’s rare she admits to fear, he’s learned, and so when she does, he listens. Her father frightens her, he knows, because she fears whatever evil is in him, has been passed to her and will manifest beyond her control. It’s something he was working on with her before Shibuya, and he takes her hands in his, reminding her to remain present. She is not Sukuna, just his daughter. What lurks in him does not lurk in her. Sundari’s breaths even out, and she shuts all four of her eyes, calming her mind. She brings his hands to her lips, kissing his fingers and knuckles.

“He has nothing to lose because he has nothing,” she whispers, and Satoru wonders if it’s possible to pity Sukuna, evil as he is. Sundari doesn’t seem to, though he can’t tell from how soft her voice gets. “But you have everything to lose, Satoru. And that’s what he will seek to kill before he deigns to kill you.”

Satoru is quiet in the wake of her grave words. Sukuna’s cruelty sounds not unlike a curse, but Sundari sounds like he has wounded her before. Or maybe her mother finally told her about what her father was really like. Either way, he files it away to parse later.

They leave the bath, toweling dry and retreating to the bedroom where they both slide into bed without so much as a scrap of clothing between them. He kisses her—really kisses her—and her arms comes around him as he slots himself between her legs. For long minutes it is just them kissing, the heat between them building and building. Satoru’s lips travel along her jawline, tugging her earlobe between his teeth, making her whimper.

It’s nothing like the first time. It’s everything like the first time.

Sundari’s hands slide up Satoru’s back, relishing the sleek feel of muscles gliding beneath her touch, and Satoru’s lips trail along her throat, sucking marks into her skin. Sundari lets herself sink into the sensation, lets her sense be overtaken by Satoru. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru.

“Satoru…” She moans, when his mouth finds one of her nipples, having traced the path of of one of her tattoos. He sucks the dusky bud into his mouth, holding it gently between his teeth while running his tongue over it. Sundari bites her lip to stifle a cry. Satoru pulls away from her breast with a wet pop.

“Don’t…” he says, his voice slightly hoarse. Sundari shivers as she feels his breath on her damp skin. “Be as loud as you want, baby. I wanna hear you…”

So, she lets him.

Satoru takes his time, and beneath the skylight, kisses every inch of Sundari’s body, reveling in the scent of her, the hot satin of her skin, how wet she is for him already. He slides a hand between her thighs, keeping his gaze fixed on hers as his fingertips circling her clit, gathering her slick.

“Don’t tease…” she whispers, and he grins at her.

“Why not? I like hearing you whine for me…”

A warning growl, low in her throat. Satoru feels his cock throb in response. He loves when she gets dangerous in bed, the way her fingers curl into the sheets before her mouth drops open in a strangled moan when he dips two long fingers into her. Her eyes roll back—all four of them—and she rolls her hips into his hand, her head tipping backward onto the pillows as the heel of his palm grinds against her clit, his fingers curling upward inside of her.

“Gnh…fuck, Satoru…” She moans and Satoru strokes her, fingers gliding in and out until the wet squelching of her pussy nearly overpowers everything else. It’s music to his ears, really. His hand is soaked, and she’s about to come, the rhythm of her hips becoming more frantic and desperate.

His thumb caresses her clit in gentle circles, scissoring his fingers inside of her. Sundari’s orgasm is close, a glittering edge she is desperate to splinter herself upon, but Satoru keeps it just out of reach. He wants her begging, and Sundari knows it. It chafes at her pride to do so, but she’s missed him—missed their intimacy in a way she didn’t realize until he was in her arms again.

She begs.

He rewards her, and she comes all over his hand, whining and moaning his name.

When the waves of her climax begin to recede, Sundari’s gaze is soft and blurred with pleasure. Satoru licks his fingers clean, savoring her taste, before leaning in and pressing a warm, loving kiss to her glistening cunt. Sundari shivers again, biting her lip on a half-moan half-laugh that only seems to encourage Satoru to continue. Kisses become the gentle exploration of his tongue, and suddenly her swollen clit is sucked into his mouth, and she can’t control the pitch and volume of her cries.

Suddenly she’s spiraling, her vision sparkling as the sensations seem to rise again and again without stopping. She feels as if she will fly apart, or shatter the skylight if he doesn’t—

“Oh fuck…” she sobs. “Oh god…”

Satoru opens his mouth, spreading her lips wide to torment her clit through another orgasm. This one feels more abrupt than the last, and her thighs quiver around his head, her slick spilling onto his chin. He pulls away reluctantly, and when he looks at her, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her so soft. The violent black lines of her cursed markings do nothing to hide it, and when she comes back to her own skin and bone, she meets his gaze with a grateful sigh.

Satoru licks his lips.

“You are so fucking pretty,” he says, caressing her thighs and squeezing them. She smiles almost shyly, and he can see the heat flooding the apples of her cheeks as her gaze slides away from his. It’s always adorable to him how shameless she is during sex, yet he will call her pretty or beautiful and she blushes like a virgin. He wagers she’s never been able to be this vulnerable with anyone. He’s glad it’s him.

Satoru leans down, and Sundari welcomes him, letting him kiss her until her thoughts are nothing but fluff in her head, working her hips desperately when she feels the blunt tip of his cock nudging her slick entrance. Satoru props himself up on his elbows to look at her, brushing sweat-slick curls from her face as he thrusts into her. Sundari moans louder than intended as she savors the delicious stretch of his cock inside her. He’s so fucking big, and he fills her perfectly. Satoru hisses when she squeezes his cock with her lust-slick walls.

“Do that again and this’ll be a short ride,” he murmurs, and she rewards him with a sultry, simmering laugh that ends in him kissing her as his hips begin to move.

Sundari thinks perhaps she can do this for the rest of her life. And as she thinks that she remembers her divine vow, a promise she cannot break. For a moment, the pleasure is at war with the sadness that she won’t be able to spend the rest of her life with him, but then Satoru brings her back.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle, a little winded as he moves inside her. “Hey, baby, look at me. Stay here with me.”

Sundari nods, biting her lip, her heart too full for words. She keeps her eyes on him, and for the first time since they began seeing one another, they make love.

It’s different. Sundari knows it’s different because when Satoru buries himself inside of her, she doesn’t feel mindless, and when he withdraws, she surges with him, wrapping her arms and legs around him. This closeness is what he loves and craves, and it only serves to goad him, thrusts smooth and languid, but hard enough that the mattress and bedframe groan in protest.

When Sundari comes, it’s unexpected. She’s so present, pinned by Satoru’s warm gaze, that she cries out, tightening her hold around him as her walls spasm. Satoru lets out a soft swear, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

And now they’re fucking.

At some point the want for each other overpowers the need or closeness and Satoru sits up, grasping Sundari’s ankles to press her legs back. She folds in half easily, and he looks down, biting his lip at the sight of his cock buried in her pretty little cunt. His.

He fucks her like he wants to impress this upon her, and Sundari finds herself baffled by the fierce possession in his eyes, the grip on her ankles that may as well pass for true shackles as he holds her legs open and back, plundering her for his own pleasure.

She can’t speak, she can barely breathe, and Satoru thrusts as if his aim is through and not inside. Every impact of skin and against skin is accompanied by the wet, erotic sound of her cunt being split on his cock again and again. The tingle at the base of Satoru’s spine is his first warning, and he fights it because he wants to have as much of her as either of them can garner the strength. Sundari can see him fighting his own climax, and she maneuvers them with gentle coaxing. Satoru allows himself to be put on his back, and his goddess mounts him with ease.

And gods above she rides him. Satoru throws his head back and lets out what can only be described as a whine and a howl as Sundari bounces on his cock, marking him as hers as much as she is his.

It’s everything like the first time; it’s nothing like the first time.

Satoru lets himself come once, and then shifts them again, putting Sundari on her hands and knees before forcing her into an obscene arch. He grips her hips, pulling her back against his cock in a punishing and brutal pace that sees her supine, fingers curling into the tangled sheets in a white-knuckled grip, her voice begging and pleading, chanting his name like a mantra.

“Want me to come inside you, baby?” He demands as he turns her over, forcing her into a mating press, which she welcomes with a truly whorish moan that Satoru is going to think about until the day he dies. She’s babbling, now, even as he attempts to fuck an impression of their bodies into the mattress. Satoru makes her come again, stroking her clit and that tender little plane inside her pussy all at once.

“Yesyesyes…!” Sundari whines, her breath coming in staccato gasps, eyelids fluttering.

“You’d look so fucking good full of my come, tell me.”

Sundari tells him, moaning and whining about how much she wants him to fill her up, wants him to put a goddamn baby in her, and something in Satoru’s mind snaps. All at once the tension in the base of his spine, the tightness in his balls, releases as his thrusts become ragged and desperate, emptying his come inside of her, burying himself deep with a harsh groan.

Sundari leans up, licks a stripe along Satoru’s throat, tasting his sweat as he releases her legs which fall uselessly around his hips. He lays down on top of her, meeting her lips in tired, sloppy kisses before he buries his face in the crook of her neck, kissing the soft, sweaty skin there.

“I love you, Sundari,” he mumbles into her skin. “Fuck. Don’t leave me, baby. I just found you.”

Sundari feels her heart constrict. She can’t even tell him she won’t leave. They both know how this ends. She holds him tighter, stroking his damp hair, blinking away tears.

“I love you, Satoru,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his temple. It’s all she can do, for now.

They sleep for most of the day, reveling in the last few stolen moments they can get away with before they rise to dress. Satoru watches Sundari grab her cursed tools from the ancient trunk her mother gave her. One of the weapons is a long trishula, a faded cloth tied around the base of the trident-like blade. Satoru’s eyes go wide at the sight of the weapon, the cursed energy distinctly powerful. He notes that the inside of the trunk is covered in sealing sutras, ancient and weathered, and written in Sanskrit. It’s why he couldn’t see how powerful Sundari’s arsenal was before. But that trishula…

“Sundari,” he says as she dresses, and she looks back at him, holding the weapon in her hands, looking at once like a woman out of her own time and something otherworldly. What’s it like, he wonders, being half-celestial in origin? “Is that…?”

“Hiten?” Sundari finishes with a smile. “Nah, mom said she could never figure out how to steal dad’s cursed tools. This is Lalita, named for the goddess who ironically, I was named after.”

Satoru’s confusion makes her giggle. “It’s a lot. Come on, we’re burning daylight, we heading back to the school?”

Satoru allows himself his characteristic grin and Sundari tries not to be worried about it.

“Nah, we are making a stop in Kyoto,” he says and it’s Sundari’s turn to look puzzled. Satoru closes the distance between them and holds her close.

“Ready to meet my parents?”

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© 2024 Hajara Asiri. Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost anywhere without permission [reblogging posts is okay]. I only upload on Tumblr, AO3, and FFN. Title and footer banners by me. Dividers and support by @cafekitsune.

#呪術廻戦 #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #muse writes #jjk x oc #jjk x black oc #oc: sundari hikmat #ch: gojo satoru #otp: ah! his goddess #fic: daughter of disgrace #series: parallax #jjk smut #gojo smut

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altraviolet · 2 months

Text

Stylesheet!

After I finished TEG, as I was going back through and editing, I realized there were quite a few words that changed spelling/configuration over the course of the story. I jotted these down in a couple places. Although I had many reference .docs for the story, there were little details missing from those notes, like the use of NeoCybex vs Neocybex.

Many months after the editing process was done, I found out there's a name for this list! A stylesheet! If you were to have a novel traditionally published, your editor would generate a stylesheet while reading your story. They would use it to keep details consistent across your novel, and give the stylesheet to you afterwards for reference. Having unknowingly generated myself one, and having learned more about them since then, I highly advise you make one for yourself when writing a very long story.

Here are the TEG stylesheets:

Oooh, so fancy, lol. Here's what it says in full (with slight editing for clarity), if you're curious:

Editing notes 2/17/2024

- Shadowzone – one word, does not need to be capitalized → Ratchet's disdain lol → Nemesis and Lost Light (use) italics on just the ship name - CONTINUITY: he never transformed in the Shadowzone - Soundwave's thoughts are italic and don't have a period at the end - “alright” will be used (as opposed to “all right”) - “Neocybex” no C - “reticles” yes [not "reticules"] - Security Team: capital security mech: lowercase - supernova (one word) - free REIN (I mistakenly used “reign” throughout the story) - FORGOT TO WRITE UM GIVING SW A STOOL. FUCK. (maybe I'll put this in a sequel, heh) .:comms start small. Next word caps:. - Movie Night: capital - jam: verb, not jamb - MESSAGES: format like pg 299, sans serif italic (this is a formatting note for messages sent in the story, regarding font in the ebook) - Crystal Club (capitalize) - Ex-Decepticons meeting - alt-dimensioner(s) - magna-clamps - work: pleasure activity (2938 use of the word) - labor: forced labor (2938 use of the word- Mirage and Skywarp use these words in a very distinct way) - tonekey one word - thumbs-up no apostrophe - crucible → lowercase c - sparkpulse? 2 words - space bridge? - groundbridge? → one word

Because I was editing in both a typesetting software and on AO3, I had to edit the entire story twice. (I should've also edited my “all the story in one doc” file, but that was just too much. I'm super hoping that doesn't come back to bite me). Even though it was very easy to search for terms in the typesetting software, I had to note down every single instance of certain changes so I could go into individual chapters on AO3 to edit. Here's my sticky note for changing “thumb's up” to “thumbs-up” on AO3:

Search both ok: magna-clamps thumb's up corrections (11) Ch 14, 17, 35 (2), 43, 44, 47, 48, 49, 51, 8 Crystal Club Neocybex Security Team Movie Night if... then Ch 12 (2)

As demonstrated, this is a pretty disorganized way to accomplish anything xD

But! Now I know what ✨stylesheets✨ are and I can pass that knowledge to you!

I learned most of what I know from this YouTube video by Autumn Bardot. Autumn goes through what a stylesheet is and why you should use it. She also has a very helpful and handy stylesheet available on her website, which you can find HERE.

I'll go through Autumn's stylesheet template and give you an example of each from TEG.

1. Oxford comma or not I do use the Oxford comma. Here is an example:

He would've struck immediately, but cataloging the Autobot's strange field, blood, and features had distracted him.

The Oxford comma is the comma before the word "and."

2. Spelling of character names Obviously, this is very important. Rodimus, Megatron, Nautica: these are all names that a spellchecker is going to pick out. Make sure the spelling stays consistent throughout the story.

3. Spelling of proper nouns

- capitalize - all caps - italicize - different font Lost Light being italicized

4. British vs US spelling and grammar “The Echo Garden” is written following US spelling and grammar rules because the author is from the US.

5. Jargon/slang spelling and usage.

- made up words - foreign words - regional words “Enceladia” is a made up word. 6. Foreign word spelling

- accents marks and placement In the fic, alt-dimensioners had their own words/terms for conjunx. Trailbreaker used coniunxe. 7. Hyphenated words alt-dimensioner(s) magna-clamps

8. Past tense of verb forms This refers to verbs that have more than one past tense. Pick one and use it throughout the story. Sometimes you'll see the convention split between US and UK English. For example: the past tense of DWELL is either DWELLED or DWELT. In this story, “dwelled” would've been used. 9. Numbers writing out “one” vs not writing out “2938” 10. For self-pubbed books; Indents for new paragraphs, font types for a text message and tech communique This is Autumn's note for authors who self-publish their books. She's reminding them to put an indent for every new paragraph and make sure font types are used correctly for in-universe things like text messages. This is not so much a thing on AO3, where paragraphs are separated by spaces, not indents. But if you were typesetting for print, you would want to be mindful of this.

In TEG, 2938 Megatron's voice is written in allcaps with no quotation marks.

.:comms are done like this:. 11. Capitalization and/or italics for Holy Books, scriptures, chapters or verses within holy books, and also well-known documents like the constitution Ultra Magnus quotes the “Code of Conduct” a few times.

Possibly also falling under this category were some mechs' handwriting: purposeful typos and UpPercaSe sTufF LikE tHis 12. Character thoughts Character thoughts are all done in italics. Soundwave's thoughts are done in italics without capitalization and without most punctuation. 13. Important details & facts Neocybex is the language they all speak. The Lost Light has a quantum feel to it. Mirage has gems embedded in his arms. 14. Anything else where consistency in your novel is important Not forgetting to have Ultra Magnus give Soundwave his stool would've been nice!! Dang xD Things I kept consistent: the location of rooms in relation to each other, characterization and characterization progression, a slow “power creep” for Soundwave as he discovered who he was. – So yeah! You can see how a stylesheet would've been really helpful as I wrote. I think if you get the template and toss stuff in there as you go, you'll have a much easier time editing by the end of a long story. I don't think this step is necessary for a short story, unless you have a LOT of information to keep track of, or perhaps mix up your spellings and want to make sure you keep consistent with the right one (color vs colour, for example). Check out Autumn's video, grab a stylesheet template for yourself, and happy writing :)

#stylesheet #writing advice #sorry about the spacing tumblr hates my word processor #this would've saved me a bunch of time #this is why it took so long to edit TEG lol #I wish there were a way to edit the entire fic on AO3 rather than ch by ch #then Search and fixing would've been much faster #ah well #we live and learn #and pass on the knowledge!#long post

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