#Heian Period

[acquired-stardust]

Kuon Playstation 2 2004

[candy69gurl]

hiii 🤗🤗 im new to your blog, i know you write dark fiction i was wondering if youd be open to some fluff? Like soft sex with sukuna?

Infernal Passion

Heian Era Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, slight non-con, loss of innocence, size kink (Sukuna in true form with 2 dicks, 4 arms and abdomen mouth), mentions of violence (Sukuna eats humans but gentle only with you), use of nicknames, belly buldge, pussy eating, fingering (Sukuna has nails), nipple playing, raw sex (cumming inside), breeding kink, mentions of lactation

wc - 2.4K

ART NOT MINE !

"—Oh, Uraume, bring the new offering to me." Sukuna grumbles, his voice low and menacing. "Tie her up securely and make sure she knows her place. I won't tolerate any resistance from her." He smirks cruelly, savouring the thought of what's to come.

Uraume enters the room, dragging you by the arm, your eyes wide with fear.

Uraume ties you to a wooden post, leaving you bound and vulnerable. Your eyes are filled with tears, and your breathing has turned shallow, each gasp echoing softly in the dimly lit room. The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the many who faced the same fate as you.

"Ah, such a delicate little thing." Sukuna's eyes rake over you, taking in every detail of your body. "I can already taste the fear in your blood. It's going to be a delightful meal." He reaches out, gently running a finger down your cheek, his touch cold and calculating. "Such a sweet dessert after a huge feast."

"P-please d-dont eat me.. I-I don't want to die.. I beg of you", you plead, your body already limb under his gaze.

Sukuna's eyes narrow, studying your pleading expression. "Very well, I shall spare you this time." He leans in closer, his breath warming against your skin. "But you have to give me something in return.

"What do you have to offer me?" Sukuna asks, his gaze intense. "You must give me something truly valuable to earn my mercy today." He steps back, crossing his arms, and waits for your response.

You are trembling against his piercing gaze, words stuck in your throat.

"Yes, yes, I can tell you're frightened," Sukuna says mockingly, "but I assure you, I am quite patient. What do you think would please me enough to forget your insignificant life?" He watches you closely, examining your trembling form and the fear etched upon your face. "Perhaps your body could provide some sort of entertainment... Tell me, have you ever served a man before? Or perhaps multiple men?"

Tears stream down your face as you desperately search for words. "N-no." You whisper, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, "I am... pure, untouched." Your voice wavers, and you bite your lip nervously, hoping that your submission will be enough.

Sukuna's eyes gleam with interest as he studies your reaction. "Pure, are you? That could be intriguing." He takes a step closer, towering over you, his massive form looming over your tiny frame. "But I require more than just words, little one. Show me how much you value your life, and maybe I'll decide if it's worth keeping." He gestures Uraume towards his chamber, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Inside, you will find what I need. Fail me, and I will eat your heart and make you suffer until your last breath."

Uraume approaches you, their expression softening slightly as they untie the bonds restraining you. "Fear not, dear one. Lord Sukuna requires your purity intact." They whisper gently, helping you stand and guiding you towards the chamber, "We shall prepare you for his pleasure."

Within the chamber, a warm bath steams gently, and a pristine robe is laid out on a nearby stool. Uraume helps you undress and step into the water, washing away the dirt and fear clinging to your body. Their gentle hands work over your tense muscles, and their movements are confident and practiced.

As you relax in the warm water, Uraume carefully dries you off and helps you into the robe, adjusting the fabric to fall just right over your slender form. "You are ready now, dear one." Uraume's voice is calm and soothing, and their eyes never leave you. "Remember, you must please Lord Sukuna if you wish to live." They lead you back to the main room, where Sukuna awaits, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Well, well," Sukuna drawls, his gaze raking over your body. "Look at you, all cleaned up and ready for my pleasure." He runs a hand through his hair, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Sukuna motions for you to approach the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as you move cautiously towards him. With a single swift motion, he removes your robe, revealing your innocence and vulnerability to him. "Ah, so tempting."

"You are merely a morsel in comparison to my size and strength, yet your innocence and fragility only add to your allure." Sukuna growls, his massive hands tracing gently down your slender frame. "And here I thought your kind were all tough and unyielding, but you are anything but. You're soft, delicate, and, oh, so delectable." As he speaks, he pulls you closer, your bodies pressing intimately together.

His grip tightens, pulling you even closer, his erection pressing against your belly. "Your innocence is intoxicating, little one." He bends down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. You taste fear and surrender, which only fuels his desire further. His fingers trail down to where your legs meet, hesitating for a moment before pushing on your legs.

Your eyes fail to meet his, a tender blush filling your cheeks.

"Such shyness is adorable." But you'll learn quickly that there is no escape from my desires." His red eyes devouring your innocence.

With that, he sinks to his knees, his tongue flicking out to taste your essence.

The great Ryomen Sukuna on his knees for a mere human like you, you think.

Your thighs shake, his tongue is huge, one slide is enough to cover your whole womanhood. He savours your shock and fear, letting them mingle with the sweet flavour of your arousal. "So good; you taste better than raw blood." He murmurs, licking and sucking at your tender flesh, driving you wild with both pleasure and terror.

You squirm and whimper against his tongue. "Ah, so sensitive." Sukuna growls, his tongue darting out to catch the droplets of your arousal. "You're going to make me lose control, little one."

Sukuna's eyes widen in surprise at your sensitivity, his tongue lapping up the flood of wetness that cascaded onto his face. This is unlike any human he has encountered before. He cannot remember experiencing such sensitivity from others. It makes him thirsty for more, for your submission and pleasure.

Your mewls and whimpers turn him on further. "Such sweet sounds. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Sukuna's voice is thick with lust, and his tongue never ceases its relentless assault on your sensitive core. He thrusts two thick fingers inside you, stretching your tight walls as you squirm beneath him, his nails brushing your walls drawing out moans from you, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

"A-ah, too much, Lord."

Sukuna groans low in his throat, fighting the urge to claim you right then and there. "If you can't handle that, how will you take my full length inside you?" He asks rhetorically, his fingers working in and out of you, stretching your wet heat in preparation.

Slowly, he eases himself free from his robes, his two massive members standing proud and eager. He positions himself at your entrance, taking a moment to let you feel the weight of his manhood pressing against your delicate folds. "Ready to accept what you owe me, little one?" A cruel smirk curves his lips, knowing you have no choice but to submit.

"Are you going to put both of them inside me?" You are terrified at the thought of his two lengths invading you.

"Don't worry, I won't," Sukuna responds, even though he wanted to push both his dicks inside you, the thought of your tender body feeling pain from it made him rebuff his thoughts. He gently guides his upper dick to your entrance.

Your thoughts are a mix of terror and confusion. You never imagined yourself in such a position—being taken by a powerful demon who holds your life in his hands. Yet, as he slowly pushes into you, the unfamiliar sensation overwhelms you. You cannot help but wonder if this is how your end comes, consumed by this beast. But strangely, your body responds to him, arching into his touch, craving more even

You couldn't believe it. A creature of such immense power and cruelty is gentle with you. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, almost tender. It's a stark contrast to the fear and violence that defined your encounter thus far. As he moves within you, you feel a strange mix of emotions—fear, yes, but also a strange sense of safety. It's an odd sensation to be at the mercy of a monster yet feel protected.

As he continues his slow, gentle thrusts, you can't help but wonder,

Was he capable of more than just cruelty and violence? Or was this just another part of his twisted game, designed to confuse and disorient you before claiming you completely?

"Feeling good, little bird?", he coos.

"Y-yes lord."

"Just for you, little bird. I'll be as gentle as silk." Sukuna whispers, his pace slowing down even further. His two hands hold your legs, and the third one strokes his ignored dick, a strange tongue formed from his hand slides against it. His fourth hand slides down to stroke your clit. The sudden burst of pleasure elicits a gasp from you.

"It feels so good, Lord Sukuna."

"Good. Enjoy it while you can." His thumb circles your clit, tongue formed from his hand occasionally lapping at it making your body flinch, taunting you with orgasm and drawing it out until your core is begging for release.

"Please, I am going to release, my lord", you eyes pleading him to let you release.

"I know.." Sukuna's breath hitches,"I've never been so careful with anyone, especially a mere mortal." His voice dripped with arrogance.

His two shafts pulsated, straining for release.

He hisses at your tightness as you squeeze his dick, creaming it white. Your moans echo through the room.

"Ah, so sweet, hmph,"  he purrs.

Without missing a beat, Sukuna switches the shaft currently inside you with the one he was stroking. He leans down and takes the newly freed member into his abdominal mouth. The sight of his shaft being devoured by his cursed abdomen sends shivers down your spine.

Sukuna seems to notice the direction of your gaze."They both want to be in you, sweetheart. Perhaps not today... I shall claim you with one of my dicks only."

"Love you..," your tone barely audible.

"Love me?" Sukuna's eyes narrow, his brow furrowing. This affection was unexpected, especially from someone he was about to devour a while ago. Yet, there is something intriguing about it. "Love? What do you know of love, little bird?"

He continues to move inside you, his pace increasing ever so slightly. Each thrust is deeper and harder than the last.

"I just know you are never going to hurt me. That's enough for me to love you."

Sukuna laughs cruelly, his hips moving faster now. His laughter echoes in the room, filled with both scorn and amusement. "Oh, how naïve you are. Perhaps I will love you back on one condition."

Your stomach bulges with each thrust, revealing a glimpse of his massive member. It moves in and out of you, leaving behind a trail of pleasure and pain.

With every thrust, your cheeks redden, and your eyes lock onto his.

"Will you be able to bear my child?"

You bite your already swollen lips, thinking your future with the curse king.

"Answer me!" Sukuna roars, slamming into you harder; his need for confirmation is overwhelming.

You swallow hard, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Yes! Yes, Lord Sukuna! I'll bear your child!"

"Good. You deserve my love then." Sukuna kisses your neck, then his tongue slides down your sternum to your breasts, his shaft disappearing entirely before re-emerging from between your legs.

"You'll bear my child, and you'll remember me every time you look at them. You'll remember your lord." Each word carries the weight of ownership, sealing your fate.

His eyes gleam with anticipation, imagining the sight of your breasts swelling with milk. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

"Imagine it, your nipples engorged, milk from them flowing freely. Yes, that would be lovely." His grip tightens on her hip, his thrusts becoming deeper and more possessive. His mouth sucks on your nipples while one of his hands pinches your nipples, thinking about how they would look, swollen and ready to feed his future kids. With each squeeze and suckle, you whimper, your body writhing beneath him. This is a future you never expected, but somehow, it excites you more than terrifies you.

His thrusts grow longer and slower, each one filled with possession and dominance. His mouth moves from one breast to the next, licking and sucking while his hand plays with the other.

"So close, are we?" His voice was low and seductive, promising pleasure and pain.

"Please, Lord, fill me. Fill me with your seed," you speak out the words you never imagined, you will say.

"So desperate, already? You beg well, sweetheart." Sukuna chuckles, his hips pumping faster. His breathing's ragged, and his gaze fixed on your face. "Are you sure you want this?"

Your lips swollen and red from biting as you let go of your moans while you orgasm again.

He does not wait for an answer, instead driving deep into you and filling you completely. His hot seed spills into your womb, marking you forever. His other dick squirts, landing on your chest and tummy. His eyes darken, and his entire body becomes tense.

"Now, you carry a piece of me. Forever bound to me."

Once spent, he collapses onto her, his breath ragged. His mouth found the curve of her neck, licking gently. "We have a deal, little bird. You bear my children, and I'll protect you. Our bond is sealed now."

"Look at you," Sukuna murmurs, pushing himself off your body. Standing up, he steps back to survey his art.

The mess is undeniable—your chest and belly covered in his seed, your thighs wet with evidence of their coupling.

His finger circles around your nipple, sending shockwaves through your body.

"How messy and used you look right now. Covered head to toe in my filth. I've claimed you and marked my territory for you. No one will dare touch you again. I'll leave you here to rest, my queen. When morning comes, Uraume will take care of you."

"I love you, my queen,"  he says, kissing your temple, letting you drift into the kingdom of dreams, where you are taking care of lord sukuna's kids.

[heian-era-housewife]

Synopsis | Sukuna gives you a lesson in Heian Period courtship. Will you find these strange customs to your liking?

Content | reader x sukuna, mostly fluff, some chasing/mention of fear, nicknames "dove", "little one".

"Ryo?" You began softly, still clutching the small poem he had left for you earlier that day. "Was dating -err- I mean courtship a lot different in the Heian Period?"

"Substantially so," he replied as he laid out your shared futon over the tatami floor.

"Was it...romantic?" You asked, climbing beneath the cotton sheets.

"For the time, yes. Though you would not have enjoyed it."

"How do you know? Did you enjoy it?"

Sliding in beside you, he took the poem from your hands and set it gently to the side, brushing stray hairs from your face as he answered. "I never engaged in such pursuits. Romance was unthinkable," he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, "before you."

"But you wrote poetry, didn't you?"

He could tell you weren't going to let this go. Heaving a sigh, he continued. "Poetry was used for many things. Heian seduction involved elements of fear, pity, and token rejection. In romance, the poetry typically came later."

You blinked. Fear? Pity? Surely he had misunderstood your question. Reading the confusion on your face, he offered a different approach.

"It may be easier...to demonstrate," he hesitated. "But as I already mentioned, you might not enjoy it."

"Try me."

Sukuna's eyes darkened. A predatory sneer crept across his features. It was as though a thousand-year craving were finally being satiated. With two little words a sleeping beast within him had come unleashed. He was free to prowl, and you were his prey.

He lunged at you with explosive force. As if on instinct, you dodged his advance, rolling from the futon and scrambling to your feet. Heart pounding in your ears, you ran from the room, steps falling fast and heavy as he took chase.

You weren't sure why you were running. It was only a demonstration, right? Besides, Sukuna would never hurt you. But you couldn't shake that look. The way he shifted from gentle lover to carnal predator. An irrational fear was taking hold.

Fear! You thought. That was the first part he had mentioned of Heian Period courtship. With gripping realization, you allowed your fright to overwhelm you, finding it both alarming and exhilarating.

Easily catching up to you, Sukuna rounded the corner quickly pinning you to the nearest wall, hot breath panting down on you as he eyed you hungrily.

"I've got you now, little one!" He growled. "Next I'm going to-"

"hnnh..." A pathetic whine escaped your lips. With his face mere inches from yours, Sukuna stopped. His eyes softening as he recognized the terror he had caused.

"My dove," he cooed, gently caressing your face in stark contrast to his actions mere moments before. "I never meant to startle you."

The whiplash was astounding. You questioned his sanity.

Dropping to one knee, Sukuna held your hands in his, sincere apologies spilling from his lips. Looking up, his eyes met yours in a gaze of pure pity.

Pity! You nearly shouted. Sukuna was taking pity on your weak and fearful state!

"Oh my gosh..." you said slowly, the point of his lesson having landed a direct bullseye. "Heian Period seduction was insane."

He broke into a wry smile, glad you were finally connecting the dots.

"Does this mean..." he gasped dramatically, "that you're rejecting my love??"

Token rejection. The final courtship component.

"But alas!" You played along. "How could I take such a cruel lover?"

"Let me show you!" He urged.

"Be gone!" You ordered.

"I insist!" He demanded.

"If you must," you cried, falling theatrically into his arms, laughing.

~~~

Back under the sheets of your futon, Sukuna eyed you thoughtfully, a soft twinkle in his eyes.

"What?" You asked.

"You enjoyed that more than I imagined," he conceited.

"I suppose I can see the appeal," you admitted, reaching for the small parchment beside you. "But, if it's all the same to you, I think I prefer the poetry."

"Me too," he whispered, kissing you goodnight. "Me too.

Please feel free to check out the video that inspired this little story. ⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ While the video is relatively lighthearted and informative, there is mention of nonconsentual actions and use of the "r" word in a factual context.

[glader13]

Me and the Devil pt.2

True form/Heian period Sukuna x Heian period Reader

Part 1

A/N: 18 and up

You woke up alone the next morning, wondering where Sukuna went. You wrapped yourself in one of Sukuna’s robes, walking out of your shared room and into the rest of the estate. You first wandered into the dining hall, seeing no one there but the other concubines. None of them dared to look at you unless you engaged with them first. Their behavior was not caused entirely by fear of Sukuna but by you. Your reputation for killing your village was only reinforced when a concubine stepped out of her place, bullying and harassing you like those from your past. You burned her, creating ashes from her flesh, a vibrant warning. You guess your village and family were right: there is a darkness in you.

But he loves it. He loves how you tripped over the heavenly precipice, becoming his. Perfectly fallen.

“Have you seen Lord Sukuna?” You asked one of the concubines. She quickly shook her head, mumbling no.

The sun gently shined through the windows and the vine-covered archways as you went looking for him, asking other servants for his whereabouts which were still unknown. You decided to take your search outside, testing your luck in the garden. As you walked through the garden, underneath the cherry blossom trees, you thought of the night before. You still felt Sukuna’s touch lingering on your skin, his promise to protect you. You scarcely smiled, feeling confident in knowing what you felt towards him, but doubting if he felt the same way. Before, you would go everywhere with him, and attend his meetings with the different leaders collecting their tribute. But now, ever since he’s become a target, he kept you here. Out of public, out of sight. He always brings you back gifts to still provide you with a gateway to the outside world. But you yearn for the freedom you once had, you yearn to be by his side.

You know he’s protecting you, but who will protect him? A foolish thought, but it keeps you up. The thought invades your mind as you spend time in his arms. Rounding a corner in the garden, you heard his voice, strong against Uruame’s concerned one.

The sorcerers are turning them against you. This is the fifth village who have given in to their influence,” Uruame folded the letter, “I fear an uprising, Lord Sukuna.”

“Let them try,” you could hear Sukuna’s smirk, “it’ll be foolish anyway.”

“But the land, you rule it all. What if they-”

“It’s just dirt, I can take it back whenever I please,” he interrupted them.

“What if they get here? What if they harm her?” Uruame’s voice was a whisper.

That’s when you felt something more terrifying, more powerful than fear. It was stomach-churning, causing you to sweat. You were paralyzed, so weak that you fell to your knees, scarcely breathing. Your vision was darkening, the ground beneath you blurred and moving, as if it would give way underneath you. You focused on the ground, clutching the grass for some stability as you were feeling that you were in the presence of the devil himself. Or something much worse.

“Let them try. They’re dead the moment that idea crosses their mind,” he said.

You shakily got up, seeing Sukuna standing by himself as Uruame went off to do a task. You quietly walked behind him, kissing the markings that decorate his back and shoulders as you wrapped your arms around him. He relaxed underneath your touch, asking why you weren’t in bed, to which you explained.

“I’ll be leaving on business to a nearby village,” he said taking your hands, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, so you’ll be alone for a little bit longer.”

“Take me with you,” you kissed his shoulder again, “I miss being by your side.”

“It was … different then,” he sighed, “it’s much better if you stay here.”

“I can handle my own,” you walked in front of him, placing a finger on his lips, “I’ll bring my weapon, I’ll be safe. Especially with the King of Curses around.”

_

“Lord Sukuna,” you stood at the entrance of his room, “Are you prepared to leave?”

He looked over, standing up from where he was sitting as he gave you a curt nod. You didn’t move, not knowing where you stood in his eyes, the words that you heard a couple of moments ago were still burning, leaving a mess of questions in your mind. Without looking at you, he motioned you over with a hand. You fixed your kimono and the flowers in your hair and adjusted your katana before walking in front of him. You felt heat envelop your face as you couldn’t meet his eyes, though you could feel them on you. His gaze was piercing, feeling like lightning.

The warmth from the closeness of his body told you that he was towering over you. You bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze, feeling your heartbeat throughout your body. Sukuna didn’t say a word, confused by your sudden change of character, you never shied away from meeting his gaze. He smiled slightly, feeling comfortable with making you look at him. He held your face from your chin, your body shivering when you finally met his crimson eyes.

“Since when have you been afraid to look at me?” He teased you, and you looked away again, unable to talk, “So unlike you,” he whispered in your ear and you shivered again.

Despite enjoying this, he did wish that you would meet his gaze, that he would hear your voice. Just as you couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t tell you why he wants you, why he keeps feeling the softness of your lips on his from those nights ago. He didn’t know why he couldn’t get it out of his mind, why you have taken residence in his head. He looked you over, still in awe of how power and beauty can balance in you.

“It fits you well,” he told you, his fingers rubbing the silk fabric.

He still stood in front of you, and you finally found the courage to look at him. His arms were folded as he looked at you as if you were a puzzle, his eyes drinking your form, no doubt noticing how well the kimono suits your body. You took a breath before speaking, “Is everything okay? Did I do something to upset you?”

“No,” he said, “And yes, I am prepared to leave.”

The ride was quiet, Sukuna was stuck in his papers, occasionally mumbling something about numbers. He rarely looked at you, causing another sting. He usually would have said something, at least acknowledged you, but now he’s treating you like the other concubines that he keeps. He has to be angry, you bit the inside of your cheek, you were too pushy with him allowing you to go. You felt embarrassed to look at him, feeling that you crossed a line, so you stared at the rolling landscape. He’s always leaving you guessing, he’s a riddle that you’ll never be able to solve. But when you’re with him, you feel like his queen. Yes, he opens up his bed and body to you, but you want a piece of his mind. You want his heart. A foolish hope, you are aware, but you can never fully bring yourself to extinguish it. You love him, and there’s nothing that you can do.

“I believe that you are mad at me,” you announced, causing him to look at you, “Due to my intrusion, I shall sit here until you’re done.”

Sukuna’s crimson eyes shined with amusement as he said, “I’m not mad at you.”

“But you haven’t said one word to me,” you folded your arms, “Am I not worth your time? Is my usefulness over for you?”

Sukuna’s laugh bellowed in the space, “Quite a needy thing you are.” You felt your heart jump at his words.

“Your usefulness has never run out, it never will,” he said, “But you do cause me problems. I seem to not be myself when you’re around. And when you’re not around, it’s emptiness. What did you do to me?”

You smirked, understanding his dilemma. You leaned forward, your voice sickeningly soft and innocent, “Do I frustrate the King of Curses?”

He got closer to you, once again holding your face and instead of looking away, your smirk only grew. Sukuna felt himself slightly smile, something in him shifting, though he didn’t what it was. But he knew that he wanted to keep the look on your face, your lidded eyes brimming with desire, all to himself. He was getting lost in your eyes, going past the point of return. It was driving him mad, for his thoughts to be consumed by a human.

“Did you put a hex on me?” His voice rumbled through your body, as you mumbled maybe.

He leaned even closer, his lips inches away from yours. You held your breath, hoping that he would close the distance, gracing you with a kiss, but he didn’t. He traced over your lips with his thumb as his mind could only form one coherent thought, which was that he wanted to taste you. It was the only reason why he would ever get on his knees for a human, to put himself below. He kissed the inside of your thighs, your soft skin warm against his mouth as he stared up at you. Your eyes were closed, and your lips were curled in a soft smile, Sukuna strangely felt in awe again, as if discovering another reason why he so easily got on his knees. But, you were only smiling, and he needed to hear your voice. You gasped feeling Sukuna’s tongue languidly lick from the top of your pussy to the bottom.

You breathed heavily, feeling his tongue in between your folds, as his fingers were digging into your soft skin. He didn’t pick up the pace, slowly maneuvering his tongue around, ignoring your aching clit. The only time that it would get attention was when his nose would occasionally bump into it, causing you to moan. You were a heavenly sight to Sukuna, with closed eyes and beautiful noises coming from your lips. He loved how you were falling apart by his tongue, your hips desperately grinding against his mouth, the word please and his name the only thing you could say. He smiled against your cunt, knowing what you want, but still not giving it to you. He kissed your cunt, the filthy sounds echoing in the small space. You nearly screamed, feeling Sukuna’s fingers spread open your fucked out cunt, before his lips went back to abusing it.

You arched your back, your fingers getting lost in his pink hair. It was messy, as he sloppily made love to your cunt. The seat below you had a stain, and each time Sukuna would stop and smile at you, a trail of saliva would be visible. He eventually gave you what you wanted, and you could have sworn that you were going to pass out. Ecstasy and euphoria flooded your senses as he sucked on your clit, nipping and pulling on the sensitive area. Shamelessly, you guided his head, making sure that his mouth stayed where you wanted it to be, your thighs keeping him in place. Sukuna would have normally lashed out and stopped altogether if a concubine had touched him without permission, but with you, he didn’t mind. He wanted to please you.

“Cum on my tongue,” he breathed against you, causing you to squirm and moan, “I want to taste you.”

So you did, as he murmured good. He didn’t give you time to recover, long strokes of his tongue left you shivering as he cleaned you up. His lips found yours, locking you in as his tongue deepened the kiss, “Look at how good you taste.” His words caused you to moan again.

He would have done more, but the announcement of their arrival caused him to stop. The two of you walked to the chief’s estate, everyone in the village moving out of the way when the two of you walked past. This troubled Sukuna as he thought back to Uruame’s words of caution, an uprising is sure to happen. Usually, they would have bowed, cowering from his sight, but now they look him in the eyes as he walks by. They are bold. The chief was late, causing Sukuna to grow even angrier at his insolence.

The two of you sat in the grand room in silence, as servants stood ready to refill your cups once you needed them too. You stared out into the windows, seeing the beautiful village nestled in a valley from a vantage point, it was quite large and decently populated. A prime spot for Sukuna to rule, a prime spot for sorcerers to gamble and take control over. Once the chief arrived, you could tell the type of man he was, reminding you instantly of everyone in your old village, in your family. He was a greedy man, exuding more power than he ever would have. You weren’t even there in his eyes, being referred to as one of Sukuna’s favorite concubines.

“Don’t kill him,” you said seeing Sukuna tense, “At least not over that,” you then directed your attention to the village chief, “Your tribute payments, have stopped, why is that?”

He scoffed at you, “That’s not a woman’s place.”

Sukuna leaned forward, his large frame almost blocking the chief entirely from your point of view, “She’s equal to me, so it is her place as much as it is my place.”

“They promised me protection,” he was smug, “They promised that you are going to get sealed,” he pointed at Sukuna, “So why should I fear an extinct curse?”

“Sorcerers? That’s impossible,” you jumped in, “They don’t have anything to seal him away, it’ll be suicide.”

You looked at Sukuna, seeing if he wanted to join in, but his arms were crossed, his eyes were focusing on nothing, yet you could see that his mind was running. Running with possibilities of him being sealed, his power stripped. With the possibility of losing you in the process. You focused back on the man, “He has burned villages, and killed anyone who had tried to stop him, what makes you think that they can win? You wouldn’t be standing on your feet if it wasn’t for him. They lie and cheat, they’ll leave you when they can’t handle their responsibilities and the consequences. They can never be trusted.”

You thought of your time as a sorcerer, sold away by your family because of the darkness in you. You thought that you would be comforted by fellow sorcerers, people just like you, but you were wrong. Beaten by those who deemed themselves to be protectors. Beaten by people who were like you. No one was there, no one cared about your cries for help. The scars on your body prove it, the scar across your chest, a testament to your survival, of your anger. You can never trust a self-proclaimed savior.

“You were dead when they arrived, and you were dead welcoming them in,” you said, “You will never be safe with them.”

He laughed and it caused your blood to boil. Heat enveloped your face as you stood up, which caused Sukuna to finally snap out of his daze. Red flames sprouted from your hand, causing the chief’s face to drop. Sukuna smiled at you, more than ready to let you take control of the negotiations.

“Once we bring you the heads of your protectors, the tribute that you owe to Lord Sukuna will be quadrupled,” you frowned, “quite merciful for your insolence.”

You walked out before momentarily being followed by Sukuna who told you that a bath was being prepared before you departed. You nodded, falling slightly behind as you thought back to inside, how he fell quiet.

“Why did you go silent, if I may ask,” you said.

“We may be attacked,” was all he responded with. But he gave you a look that silenced any further questions.

You and Sukuna walked through the village to kill time until the bathing room was ready, and every time you asked him why he needed a bathing room prepared, he would tell you to not worry. You only frowned, hoping that last night would mean something different. You kept on thinking of his head in between your thighs with a mixture of pride and worry, you don’t want to become a glorified whore. You felt your cheeks heat up when you caught a pair of his eyes looking at you before he pulled you closer. He didn’t say anything, and you took the quiet to take in the beautiful village, despite its failure to uphold its bargain. It was nestled by a clear running spring that people used to fish or swim. There was a bridge that connected to the other side of the village, decorated with lanterns.

Despite the day being beautiful, the walkways were empty for you and Sukuna. The vendors looked at you nervously each time you stopped to look at an item. Sukuna watched you carefully, seeing if anything did manage to truly catch your attention, you were captured by jewelry that he would describe as plain. But, he saw your eyes light up looking at a matching set, a gold necklace with a deep red pendant, and a gold ring with the same deep red gem in the center.

“I can’t help but notice,” you held up the necklace to his face, “The color matches your eyes, it’s beautiful.”

Sukuna didn’t say anything, taken aback once again. In the sunlight, your eyes seem to have been glowing, making him annoyingly weak. Once again, he wasn’t sure why something stirred in him when you called his eyes beautiful when you smiled as you said it. He wanted to stay here, to keep this moment forever. He felt something drop in him, thinking this way would lead to nothing good.

“Do you want it?” He managed to ask, and you nodded.

“This is such a simple thing,” he muttered from behind you, putting on your necklace, “I can give you jewelry that these people can’t afford to even look at.”

You stared at the koi fish in the water, watching them glimmer in the light as Sukuna talked. “Well, there’s beauty in simplicity,” you said.

“I guess so,” he whispered against your neck.

The bathhouse was ready soon after you got the jewelry, which caused Sukuna’s face to lighten up a bit. You followed Sukuna up to the door before taking a spot next to it. You were still confused about the need for him to bathe right now, but you weren’t going to press him again. Seeing that he didn’t call for you, or perhaps he didn’t notice that you weren’t in there, you decided to go back into the village and explore what was on the other side of the river.

“Where are you going?” He asked, causing you to stop and turn.

“Back to the village,” you said, “You need privacy.”

“It’s for us,” he smirked, “So come here,” and you felt your heart racing.

The inside was nice, there was even a little table in the corner with a pitcher of water and tea. On a plate was a variety of fruits nuts, and other finger foods. The details of the place became, blurred as Sukuna revealed his true intention for the bathhouse. You couldn’t escape from his grasp as he bounced you on his dick, which was kissing your cervix each time you came down. You could have sworn that you were being split open as your cunt accommodated his size, the pain, and pleasure mixing into something that had your arms wrapped around him as you moaned his name. You didn’t know how many times he made you cum, but he didn’t falter, pistoning in you with renewed energy each time he discovered a new spot that made you cry for him even louder. You felt him move in you, his dark eyes shining with desire as he licked away your tears.

Each time you would beg for him to slow down, he would punish you. Drawing your lips into a heated kiss, his teeth biting your bottom lip and then your neck, as he would remove his fingers from your pulsing clit, causing you to whine. With an arm, he held yours behind your back, forcing you upright. You felt yourself tighten around him as you looked down seeing him pump in and out of you, white wisps coming from where the two of you are connected, and even coming from his neglected other cock.

“You feel just as good as you taste,” he was still bouncing you, talking as if this was a walk in his estate, “But, how would you be able to take my other cock if one is too much?”

“I …” you couldn’t talk, and Sukuna was enjoying this moment a little too much. He loved seeing your tits bounce, the necklace a beautiful touch, and he loved how your eyes were fucked out, only able to focus on him. He leaned forward, kissing your neck, his tongue was cool against your warm skin as he told you to finish your sentence, his finger back to your aching clit, and your arms were free to hold onto him again.

“I … I can,” you breathed against his neck.

“You can?” You can hear the smile in his voice, “Why is that?”

“I’m much stronger than the whores that you keep,” you said, lightly biting on his ear. You felt his laugh in your body, as he roughly kissed your lips.

Soon after, the two of you were lounging on floor cushions, you were pressed against his chest, occasionally turning over to feed him some fruit, which he took, teasingly placing his mouth around your fingers. You felt yourself beginning to doze off, being lulled by the soft sounds of the bathing pool and his arm holding you firmly.

“Uraume might be thinking where we are,” you say, “We should leave.”

“They’ll be fine,” he murmured, “Just rest.”

And when you woke up next, you were resting in his arms, in the carriage. You kissed his cheek, causing him to slightly smile. Looking into his eyes made you wish that you could stay in this honeymoon state. It made you wish that the two of you could run away together, but you knew it would be impossible. He would be hunted down without end. Even if he wasn’t, power and ambition have a permanent residency in his heart.

“We should visit that place more often,” you murmured, “it’s beautiful.”

“I have other villages and cities that the place we were just at can’t compare to, I’ll take you to them in due time,” he said.

“I would love to,” you smiled, “But I do have something else on my mind. It’s about us, and how you-”

“Why did we stop?” Sukuna interrupted you.

You removed yourself from him, sitting up and peering between the curtains. You didn’t see anything, just rolling hills. It was beautiful out there, and that made you on edge. You grabbed your katana, looking at Sukuna, who whispered for you to stay inside. You felt like sitting ducks, as Sukuna thought of what to do, his eyes always shooting towards you.

“We need to go,” you said, making your way to the entrance, “Before we die in here.”

“Then what?” He asked.

“We’ll worry about that once we get out,” you told him.

As you stepped out first, the world erupted into flames, causing the carriage to be shattered into pieces and flames. You and Sukuna landed in opposite directions, and you hazily watched sorcerers approach the both of you. You shakily began to crawl towards Sukuna, seeing that a few of them decided to go after him rather than you. As you crawled to him, the world changed again and you were in a snowy terrain, your breathing visible in the air. No longer visible to the world, you were stuck in a domain.

@t4naiis @midlife-crisisperson @ag1998 , sorry it took so long, I just graduated from my university

[tanuki-kimono]

so, what did heian era women wear(with the 12 layered kimono)to tire their layers in place, since obis didn't really exist yet? would something like this work?^ (ik it looks like 6 but it was too hard for me to include 12 so pretend its twelve)

Hi again! You are pretty close to what junihitoe (Heian era "12 layered" robes) looked like yes :)

And don't be sad, junihitoe despite its name actually presented a wide array of robes number depending on wearer's eras and means ;)

Here is a video by renting shop Jidaiya showing how the collars are arranged once all the robes have been put on to obtain the desired kasane no irome effect:

And here is a pic showing the silhouette better:

You can find here a dressing tutorial explaining the order of the different layers:

[platrom]

Infinity.

CHAPTER 1.

JJK x READER

SUMMARY: In every universe, Ryomen Sukuna will find you, whether it is by chance or not. But only time can tell if you awake to discover your doomed fate.

WARNINGS: sad tones, mentions of hard labor, the concubines are rude and abusive, mentions of mold, aguri is very playful, sukuna has a bride, reader gets beat up and belittled, reader is too aware but not too knowledgeable on their world, some heavy hints to Sukuna’s ultimate control over his people

MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

TAGLIST (slashed means could not be tagged): @xhoneymoonx134 @ofcqdesi

—taglist is open! if you would like to be added, please comment. :)

i. endless

The work gets easier the longer you do it. The constant bending of your knees, elbows, and back becomes almost natural the longer you spend dragging rotten mattresses, tossing dirty sheets, and folding those dreadful covers.

You’ve also learned that harsh, morbid environments like the living quarters of your fellow maids bring disgusting conditions to the rooms.

A certain type of fungi has begun to creep into the corners of the rooms and under the beds. You’ve found the darkness serves as an outstanding breeding ground for this fuzzy, green bacteria with speckles of white that act as pores.

The sight makes you sick to your stomach.

But a part of you wonders if the living quarters above for the men who kill the spirits and the king’s favored subordinates are bright with life. Maybe life grows there— maybe bonsais and cherry blossoms litter the windowstills and butterflies flutter inside and outside their rooms. Maybe creatures like rabbits and foxes settle inside when the sun is too warm, and the subordinates of Lord Sukuna get to relish in their presence.

“(Name)!” You turn your head, grasping the ends of the gray sheets and bunching them as you rise.

A beaming Aguri pops her head into the frame of the doorway. The end of her headband is falling from her hair, letting strands loose to rest against her cheeks. The ratty accessory was meant to be a pure, pristine white, but with years of cleaning soot and dust, it has become a murky grey, nearly a dirty black.

“Shouldn’t you be cleaning the kitchen? The cooks are out on their break,” you rub your cheek with the collar of your uniform. “Uraume won’t be pleased if she sees you here.”

“Uraume is never pleased no matter what I do,” she moves towards you, lunging at you when you begin to move up to meet her. Together, you both tumble into the pile of dirty bedsheets and pillows covers that decorate the floor. She giggles as you groan in pain. “As long as my duties get done on time, there shouldn’t be an issue.”

The back of your head throbs against the itchy material of threaded cloth. “If you say so, Aguri.”

She grins, smushing her head into the crook of neck. She inhales deeply, before releasing a slow breath.

“Are you smelling me?” you grab her shoulder, tugging at her sleeve in an attempt to remove her from your side. “What are you, a dog?”

Aguri makes no movement, but merely holds on tighter. When she speaks, her voice is quieter. “What if I was a hound? Like one of Lord Sukuna’s.”

“Why would you ever want that?” you frown. The absurd statement is not anything new from Aguri, but it is the tone she holds that sets you aback.

She doesn’t get quiet or melancholic often. Even when she spoke about the grimmer things in her life or her past, she didn’t dim as much as now.

“Maybe, I would be treated better,” she sighs. “You know, they always need those dogs. The blood-hunting ones that they send out to attack traitors or find enemies. And they feed them well— the chefs give them some of the nicest meat I’ve seen… but that stake isn’t very high.”

You understand. Meat is a rarity to the poor, but a normalcy to the rich. The wealthy gorge on the finest slices of beef, chicken, pork, and any fatty animal they can find.

The poor cannot eat anything but crumbs. Bread, if they can make it. Cheese if they can get a goat or trade for it. And for most, scraps of berries or bits of rotten vegetables tossed out serve as their only food source.

There are people outside who run into estate’s dumping grounds daily. You’ve watched as they fished out slivers of carrot peels or orange centers and devoured as much as they could.

They would be killed if they were caught. They would be humiliated by all the kingdom and even the town, despite how poor they are as well.

You’ve see the bodies, sometimes. In the kitchen with the staff, with Uraume holding the knife, cutting the limbs. The chefs look green with disgust at the sight of a body being torn, boiled, and seasoned. It’s a blessing that Lord Sukuna has designated Uraume to be his main chef when it comes to humans.

You’re not sure anyone truly human could handle it. But you know for a fact, Uraume is not. And neither is Lord Sukuna.

But you’re not sure what they are, either.

“It must be nice to be cared for,” you murmur, your hands threading into Aguri’s hair. “To be well fed, groomed, and treated like royalty. Their bedding must be nicer as ours. Made out of pure cotton and sewn with the finest of threads. Pure white, like the sheeps and bunnies in our dreams.”

Your fingers tug against tangles, curves, and bumps. It’s a comforting motion for you, and her. To feel the gentleness of another person, instead of the harsh treatment you both are constantly subjected to.

The hard labor, yelling, and constant threat of death. It’s overwhelming and drowning. It’s dispiriting and crushing. Most here die at their 20s. The average life expectancy is one’s early 40s.

It’s the stress that kills them the fastest. And the slaughtering of them in the masses, as well.

Aguri whines, kneeing you in the side. “Why did you stop? I was getting comfortable!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, before a pained smile grows on your face.

You wish she would never have to worry about her life. You wish you could protect Aguri with your life, and that would be enough.

“How about we sneak into the kitchen? I heard the head baker made some new pastries with a special strawberry cream.”

Aguri perks, staring at you with wide eyes. “Can we?”

You wink. “As long as we don’t get caught.”

In an instant, she tugs at your arm and pulls you up, sprinting out of the room.

Her laughter is all you need to match her pace.

I hope you stay like this forever, Aguri.

ii. bastion

Lord Sukuna marries Akazome Emon on the night of your birthday.

You have the pleasure of preparing for the ceremony. The tables, the food, and all the decorations are overseen by Uraume, while the maids of the estate fulfill the duty of beautifying the already breathtaking garden where the celebration will be held.

The wedding has no more than fifty guests. It’s small, for a king as powerful as him— but it’s fitting and understandable.

Lord Sukuna has enemies who drool at the chance to even brush shoulders with him. To be able to infiltrate his palace is a feat that no man or woman has ever achieved. All concubines are checked thoroughly and every servant goes through a lengthy process before they are admitted to work for the king.

But the news of his bride will spread quickly. The parchments will fly and the whispers of mothers will flood the ears of the neighboring kingdoms.

His Queen will become an immediate target as a way to crumble his spirit and overthrow his authority. Riots will begin in the streets, and wars will rebirth.

In a matter of hours, the world will be in chaos once Lord Sukuna marries his bride.

Though, a small voice in the back of your head believes that the king thrives in danger and destruction. It is the motto of the Sukuna estate.

You purse your lips, staring at the sheer sheets that line the wooden poles now cemented into the corners of the garden. Tree peonies line the ends of the box-like structure, while chrysanthemums are sparsely dispersed around the seats.

The gardeners are exceptional at their job, you crouch to inspect the flowers. Your eyes trace over the delicate ridges of the baby pink in the peonies, and the fluffs of white in their centers. They are beautiful, bright, and voluminous; fit for royalty.

The maids have gossiped about the bride’s bouquet after one of the florists had dropped the sketch of the design on the garden’s ground.

It appears that her bouquet will be filled with nippon daisies at the center and lavender rimming the daisies. It was an odd choice for a woman as exquisite as Akazome Emon to have such common flowers be the choice for her bouquet— especially for them to be the kinds of flowers the poorest of the kingdom eat.

You wonder if her choice of flowers mean something greater than just to look nice, but you’ll never know. The privilege of accessing books was never one you had.

It wasn’t like you could even read or write to begin with.

“Work faster, Uraume will be out soon! The ceremony must look spotless for our king,” the head maid is running around like a headless chicken, straightening creases and perfectly spacing the seats from each other. Maids back out of her way as she sways around, screaming orders at anyone who looks her way. The flock of you are sent scattering as guards begin to enter the grounds.

For such a wonderful day, the workers of the estate are tense and on edge.

“Did you hear that Lady Emon appointed Lord Sukuna’s other suitors as his concubines?” Two ladies veiled in crème colored robes brush past you as you adjust the deserts on the table. The material looks smooth and soft— like velvet. It’s a type of cloth you’ve heard Uraume describe to her seamstress about her robes. “For a future Queen, she is keen on throwing any woman she possibly can at the man who will bring her unlimited power.”

Along their necks lies an engraving of blood-red roses lined with heavy, black ink. When the ends of their robes rise, around their ankles rests a gold chain intertwined with bits of lavender.

They must be concubines.

The king was known to lavish his mistresses in the finest of jewels and clothes from raids against neighboring estates.

“What are you looking at?” a nauseatingly saccharine voice snaps. A blur of black and white drops into your view and you stumble backwards. “You stupid whore, who are you to look at me?”

Your mouth runs dry and your tongue becomes heavy. Instantly your head falls to the ground with your hands under your forehead and your eyes squeeze shut. “I’m sorry, my lady. Forgive me, please.”

She scoffs, before yanking at the shoulder of your uniform to bring your face up to hers. Strands of fine, black hair lay across the front of her face, the ends brushing against the white of her makeup. The pigment on her lips is a bright, vibrant red that contrasts the paleness of her face and the darkness of her hair.

She’s breathtakingly deadly.

She must be one of Sukuna’s favorites. Her aura is so fierce, but her features are somehow delicate and sharp.

Her nails dig into your arm and the corners of her lips slide down her face. The iris of her eyes are a deep brown, nearly blackened by the anger that spreads through her body. Her eyebrows are tightly knit, the perfect arch in her brows now flattened into a hard slope.

“You dirty, proletariat brat. You must wish this was the life you lived, huh? You must wish you were worthy of Lord Sukuna the way we are,” she spits as the the tips of her nails dig deeper into your skin. You have no doubt the moment she releases your arm, blood will gush from the indentations of her nails on your skin.

The other concubine steps forward. She’s just as stunning as the other, but her features differ vastly. Instead of a foxy look of slender features and slim eyes, her jaw is soft, her lips are round, and her eyes are wide like a doe’s.

“It’s astonishing that Uraume allowed the scum of the estate to even step outside of the dungeons today,” she frowns, bending down to invade your space. She scans your features, trailing over the dust that clings to the creases of your clothes and the swatch of white paint across the back of your hand.

You’re surprised as well that Uraume allowed you to participate in preparing the ceremony. Despite your promotion, you still worked in the lower parts of the castle, commonly referred to as “the dungeon.” Rats, cockroaches, and snakes are common sights in the halls, and fuzzy spores are found on every end of each room. The maids of your levels speculate that the ground level of the estate is littered with ceramic vases, gold plated portraits, crystalline walls, and the smells of roses and joy.

It’s been awhile since you’ve smelled anything but must and damp walls, hasn’t it?

You bow your head, shutting your eyes. This battle cannot be won— the concubines will win. The aristocracy always succeed, even if they are wrong. It’s an endless cycle engraved in the history of your people. Prosperity and wealth do not come to those born into poverty— it runs in the veins of those fortunate enough to have lived at a time where a man was willing to adopt a boy, or for those who have leeched themselves to the top.

The voice in the back of your head brings you to believe that these two are the latter of the group.

“Now, you want to show some respect?” the concubine tightens her grip around your arm before tossing you back to the ground. A glob of spit lands on your cheek as the other scoffs, kicking your chest. You curl into yourself, clutching your head noiselessly.

The faster this goes, the sooner I can go to finish my duties and head to bed.

You pray someone will step in and separate the two from you; you want nothing to do with these concubines. Their sight of their perfectly primped hair and glassy skin was only supposed to be a glance for your own entertainment, to relish in the joy of the world above you. It was meant to be a taste of a world you would never exist in— a distraction from the harshness of reality that existed inside the walls of the estate.

The sight of the swaying cherry blossoms, the freshness of the grass beneath your feet, and the gentle breeze in your hair were meant to be figments of your imagination that you could play in your head until your final days in the manor. The tulle that surrounded the wooden posts were meant to design the gown in your dreams, in a life where you would find a loving husband and spend the rest of your life with a lover who would destroy the world to merely bring it to your feet.

Now, you recognize that you stepped out of place. You thought too hard and believed too much in an unattainable fantasy. In no life were you destined to be happy.

In no universe did you belong with plates of fluffy, sugary cakes and tender meats and soft cheeses. Doughy breads coated with flour were never meant to be placed on your table for dinner.

Instead, you were meant to eat a bowl of leftover bone broth and a slice of stale brown bread. You would never live to pluck a berry off a bush, or lay in a bed of flowers in the cool evenings.

Those were impossible tales for girls like you. They were realities for women like them.

Please, make this punishment quick and easy. Let me go to my room and speak with Aguri until my mouth runs dry and my eyes close shut. Let me sleep ‘till my next day of cleaning and collect the ribbons and threads of color that Aguri loves.

Let me make it to my room tonight, please. That is all I ask for today and forever.

The last thing you hear before a blow is made to your head is a terrified scream, the crashing of glasses, and the sound of rushing footsteps.

#© platrom, plot / writing / banners & headers. do not repost, reblogs are appreciated! please consider leaving a comment and a heart! <3

[pinknipszz]

adagio for strings 1/4

↷ ˊ- true form!ryomen sukuna/f!reader | next >

"you know where to find me, and i know where to look."

(a/n: gift for my baby @mania-sama)

sellers of the market shout at you for standing idly on the edge of the street, their sun-kissed faces pulled taut from age and ire. they kept a keen eye on you as they mutter to themselves over what trouble the illegitimate daughter of a whore and a local businessman would stir.

but you, so bony and brittle, find their fears irrational. how could you possibly be capable of anything else, other than swatting away the mosquitoes that threaten to drink all that you had left?

you thought that the day was too pleasant to waste away, so you had crawled out of the woven walls that keep you cool from the summer haze. it is more like a pile of scraps than a house, but it feels like home. it doesn’t look down on you with hate and pity and everything in between. when nights grow too cold, you pull the walls closer and hug your body. when the sun smiles at you relentlessly, as if it was laughing at your predicament, you push back further into the shade.

home is the only thing you could control, and for that, it is your prized possession. your stomach twists into tight knots at the idea of leaving, but you want to stretch your legs. the calluses on your feet are softening. if you don’t get up and move now, your feet won’t be ready for a sprint down the gravel streets if a mob finally decides to chase you out. so you visit the market, silently greeting their looks of apprehension like an old friend. 

you grip the hatchet that you stole, remembering how the old farmer had chased after you, throwing rocks and curses laced with venom, when he realized that the village vagrant had snatched his favorite tool. that was many years ago. you don’t know how he’s doing now. maybe he found a better one, something sharper to hack bamboo stalks with, and has long forgotten about you. or maybe he hammered a headsman’s block near his front porch, where he sits sharpening his sword, waiting for you to come back. 

mindlessly tracing the grooves in the weathered wood, you limp from stall to stall. the closest seller eyes you warily. her gaze flits between your haggard appearance and the dull weapon at your side, her lips tight and nose turned upwards, most likely upset over your proximity to her precious baskets of fresh pomelos and persimmons. it leaves a bad impression on her more than you. she is an esteemed seller with the finest fruits, and you are people repellent. bad for business.

she watches you with ferocious intensity, half-expecting you to reach for a fruit to quell the gnawing hunger in your gut. she knows how you feel. she could see it in your eyes, in the bones that peek under the dirty robes that you stole from a dead man you had found on the side of the road. she knows about your hunger, but she doesn’t offer a single fruit, even when she has baskets upon baskets to spare, like you are nothing more than a thief or a pauper. if selfishness was a monster, you wondered if it would look like her.

but miraculously, she doesn’t say anything. the feeling never gets old. you don’t know if it is the dull hatchet or the rest of your unsightly figure that frightens her just enough, but it leaves you with sick gratitude for whatever gods are up there. if you could only have a handful of good things in this lifetime, let this moment be one of them. you flee deeper into the market before the seller could reach for something to hit you with.

it is busier than usual today, you realize, limping past a group of giggling kids drawing figures in the dirt. the shouts are louder here. those wise enough to not waste their attention on you continue their hollering, eager to reel in unsuspecting customers with a net spun from deceptive words. you don’t know a lick of business. what it meant or how it worked. based on what you’ve seen, however, is that the loudest caught the most fish. you don’t think twice about the quiet sellers you had seen during your last visit that are no longer here. 

sometimes you think it is just the laws of nature. the strongest survive and forget the weak, who are branded for death the second they leave the womb. it’s a promising thought. the sellers who had been too meek to adapt with their competition had been overturned by the changing tides of an uncertain economy. they were weak, unfit to survive. you don’t know if your assumption is correct, but you find that things in nature can easily be applied in real life. you scratch the itch under your jaw.

further along the path, you see a stranger standing by a stall that sold fowl meat. the stark white of their hair, reminiscent of winter nights, ceases your limping. their robes are clean, and they wear socks with sandals. they aren’t local. you have never seen something so close to snow standing in the heat of summer. briefly, you wonder if thirst and hunger finally caught up with you, until the stranger turns. their muddy eyes rake over your form, picking apart your robes and hatchet and matted hair. they hold a small bag of pomelos.

quite a sight for sore eyes, you think bitterly. while they don’t entirely look like a pompous bastard, anyone with clean clothes and warm food in their belly is sure to look down on you in one way or another. so you continue to watch the interaction in silence, even when the stranger looks away in favor of the butcher, handing him a heavy satchel of gems you never knew existed. then they leave, with a bag of raw meat, for the other side of the market, the opposite of where you are standing. 

you pull yourself to where they stood, dropping your hatchet to hold out your hands. you wait expectantly for your fill. “the hell d’you think yer’ looking at,” the butcher spits, eyes narrowing at you. fury rolls off of him in waves at your audacity. “got a lot of nerve to show up here.” you don’t know why he’s so upset. well, everyone is upset with you, but you don’t know what unsettles him today. perhaps the white-haired stranger was someone important, and you shouldn’t be standing in the footprints they left in the dirt.

“trimmings,” you rasp, your voice curling around each syllable harshly. it is the first word you utter in weeks. it is also the only word you said during your last visit, and the one before that. seriously, you would think that the butcher had it down to routine by now. he scoffs but reaches for the bloodied basket anyway, throwing it in your chest. your weak arms catch it quickly before you peer inside. it is mostly fat, but food is food. you can’t wait to savor it back home. 

“t’s the last time yer’ getting anything from me,” the butcher breathes and leans in to jab a roughened finger into your shoulder. “better get out of here before i hang you on a jointed hook.” the cruel threat falls on deaf ears. you know the butcher wouldn’t do that. not because he is kind, no. far from it. your dead body simply has nothing to offer. there’s no way to make money off of you, unless someone decides to throw your bones to a dog. nonetheless, you retrieve your hatchet and scurry off without saying a thank-you or a goodbye. 

there’s no point in wasting a breath on a man who looks at you with equal hatred. with one arm, you hold the bucket close to your chest protectively, while your other hand holds the hatchet. you follow the path from whence you came. the dirty robes cling to your skin uncomfortably, and your raw feet ache, but you can’t afford to let your guard down, not when you finally have proper food again. the sun dips into the horizon, and sellers are dismantling their stalls. soon, they will reach home, and so will you.

the hatchet continues to work its miracles, warding off evil like a talisman. however, you know deep down that you shouldn’t overdo it. it won't be long until someone calls you out on your bluff. when they realize that you can’t even lift it past your waist, they’ll come rushing towards you with bags over their heads and poison on their pitchforks. you let your mind wander. perhaps you could pay another visit to the butcher and weasel through a hole in his house, tiptoeing around for his favorite cleaver. you quite like the thought.

you hardly hear passing gossip over the pulse in your ears. however, one frantic conversation bleeds through your excitement. you pay no mind to it at first, thinking you are the subject that leaves them so tense, which is nothing out of the ordinary, but the words “white” and “monk” and “curse” stop you in your tracks. you nearly forgot about the uncanny stranger who stood out like a sore thumb, much like you for reasons entirely different.

the hairs behind your neck stand pin-straight, and you tilt your head towards them. it is two ladies who frequent the market often, you realize. their houmongi kimonos juxtapose with the plain wear of village folk. their wealth couldn’t be any more obvious. kamo. the name tastes like metal in your mouth. great. more pompous bastards. you want to resume the walk home, but something in you feels inclined to listen, to eavesdrop on what leaves their pretty little heads spinning.

so you listen and you eavesdrop, keeping yourself a safe distance away to ensure they don’t see you. 

“this is the third time this week,” one who wears a sparkling pin says first. she leans closer to her friend’s side. “you know about the rumors. nothing good comes out of seeing him.” him. for a moment, you think that she’s referring to the white-haired stranger, until you hear what she says next. “the monk-child is just a bad omen. it’s the cursed object we have to worry about.” it comes out of her mouth like a slur. you think it’s a euphemism for something else.

but you don’t have time to dwell. you must return home, so you do.

you like to think that things would have turned out differently if you had stayed at the market a little longer. maybe then, you would have heard them talk more about the supposed monster among men, and how the villagers suspect you having something to do with it. how your sudden appearance somehow aligned with the monk-child, another bad omen second only to you. you would have heard them chortle over the troops they had sent to your home while you had been away. 

maybe then, you would have lifted your hatchet over your waist for the first time in your life, and hack down on their shoulders, through the thick material of their beautiful kimonos, and into unmarred flesh. but no amount of dreaming could save you from the anguish, as the grip around your bucket and hatchet slacken. they fall to the ground, and the fatty meat spills all over. your finger twitches, as well as the edge of your lips, the corner of your eyes, and the base of your spine. the sun is long gone, replaced by moonlight. 

you find it sick how you wouldn't have known who destroyed your humble home if it weren't for the insignia left behind. you recognize the colors. kamo. kamo. kamo. the torn fabric lies above the ashes and taunts you.

your legs give up under you, and you fall to your knees. the sound that leaves you is nothing short of primal. animalistic. closer to grief more than anything, when you grab handfuls of dirt and ash and squeeze hard. you think about the village. about the stranger you are wrongly accused of associating with. about the butcher and the kamo women. the butcher. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had been the one to ask for military intervention, like the goddamn coward he is. you claw at the ground until your nails bleed.

you are too angry to weep. you don’t care about the blood collecting at your knees, seeping into the robes that you had stolen, or around the precious hatchet. is this penance? your soiled hands find purchase in your hair, and they tug at the roots. how could the gods be so cruel? it still smells like smoke. the residual warmth taunts you, as if reminding you what a real fire is like. nothing that a couple of makeshift walls of a home could emulate. you shakily reach for the wooden handle.

you push yourself up, ignoring the protests of your aching body, and bite the inside of your cheek. you are staring hard at the remains when you feel a heavy weight bump into your foot. with the last bits of your patience, you look down. a pomelo. it sways side-to-side before coming to a complete stop, as if someone rolled it towards you. someone did. when you look back up, you find the same muddy eyes that studied you at the market. 

they didn’t say a word then, and they don’t now. they simply watch, hidden between trees in the distance. you reach down for the ripe pomelo and tear it open. when you bite, you realize you don’t like pomelos, but you finish anyways. you're still starving. you throw the tart flesh into the ashes with no intention of returning, before tightening your grip on the hatchet and turning towards the village. you miss the ghost of a smile on the stranger’s face.

“are you pleased with her actions?” they ask the darkness beside them. their words are met with silence.

(masterlist) | listen to adagio for strings!

[cherryyycosmosss]

Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

He sees you for the first time. ☯️

This is set in the heian era, where the reader is a princess.

Enjoy <3💗

𝙏𝙨𝙠.

"These filthy imbecile sorcerers, do they really think that joining forces with each other is going to help them decimate me?"

Sukuna groaned holding his bloodied arm as he made his way to the river through the dense forest.

He had just annihilated a group of sorcerers who had teamed up with one another thinking they could actually eradicate the king of curses, but were proven wrong and suffered the same fate as their other fellow sorcerers.

He bent down at the edge of the river and as he sank his arms into the flowing water to wash off the blood enveloped on them, he heard a faint humming echo in his ears.

It sounded sweet, innocent and almost pleasant which surprised him a little since hearing people being happy usually made him want to snap their bodies in half.

The mesmerising melody rang in his ears and he couldn't help but feel drawn to it. So, he slowly walked towards where he guessed this voice was coming from, his curiosity slowly rising but all of his thoughts came to an abrupt halt stopping him on his tracks when his eyes laid on 𝙮𝙤𝙪.

You were sitting on top of a large rock, a white little kitten resting on your lap as you hummed a song, hand gently caressing its soft fur trying to lull the kitten to sleep.

You were wearing a floral, paled turquoise coloured uchikake with lilac and white accents, its fabric flowing along the breeze of the wind in harmony with your long black hair.

𝘽𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡, he thought to himself watching you from behind a tree so that his sudden presence wouldn't scare you off.

You looked at the little animal fondly with a serene smile resting on your lips and sukuna felt his heart beating slightly faster.

He couldn't comprehend how someone could look so pristine, knowing that the world he was born in wasn't one that was run on empathy and goodwill and 𝙮𝙚𝙩, your eyes held so much kindness and affection that he knew they'd be able to mend a broken soul with just a look alone.

He knew that he could capture you right then and there, taking you with him to keep you all to himself but what he was also aware of, was that the moment he'd do something like that, all of that warmth in your eyes would be replaced with terror, fear and agony.

The thought of that glow disappearing from your eyes angered him a lot more than he'd like to admit and he just couldn't figure out why.

In just a span of a few minutes, for the first time, he felt an array of emotions that he didn't even know he was capable of feeling reminding him that even though people called him a monster, a demon or a heartless beast, maybe, just maybe, he was 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 afterall.

"My lady, where have you been, we've been looking all over the palace for you."

A woman came running, stopping right in front of you, panting as she tried to catch her breath.

"Oh honoka, I was just out getting some fresh air, you mustn't worry so much about me."

You said smiling at your lady-in-waiting.

"But my lady, it's going to get dark soon, we shall return to the palace now."

She said with worry laced in her voice.

"Fine, let's head back."

You said not wanting to make her worry anymore than you already had.

Sukuna watched you disappear into the dawn, suddenly finding himself craving the calmness your presence had brought to his heart.

However, he didn't dwell on that concern for too long because he knew he was going to see you again soon,

𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣.

[sukustar]

Compilation of Sukuna True Form in the Manga because in this profile we love that crazy man

Yes, I skipped the image where he is with Yorozu for personal reasons.

People call it ugly, to me it's fucking beautiful.

[acquired-stardust]

Kuon Playstation 2 2004

[panfrances7u7]

Tiny hug! 💖 Husband is too big so tiny wife can only hug his face

Featuring my characters: Chiyo (tiny) and Saito (giant)

[luminiamore]

ᴜᴋɪʏᴏ

𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧

..

               ❦ ════ •⊰ ☯︎ ⊱• ════ ❦

ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇɪᴀɴ ᴇʀᴀ..

“Sister, there is another curse the locals are screaming about. He’s been burning a few villages, and the casualties have been so horrifying, it’s starting to alert the Gojō Clan.” A soft and blunt tone slightly echoed throughout an empty castle. Ryojin stood, arms folded and eyes shut, mirroring the cursed spirit seated on the throne beside him.

“Is that so?” The reply was a whisper, a hint of disinterest lingering. She couldn’t fathom a reason to care; the sorcerers are always quick to exorcise a threat. The woman, the curse, opened one of her closed eyes to gaze at her brother. 

He hums in response, “He seems to be making a name for himself. I would like to meet him.” His proposal caused Akuryo to tilt her head a bit. For what?

She sighed and waved him off, “For what, Ryo? Those puny sorcerers will get rid of him by the end of the today.” 

“That’s the thing, sister, they’re scared of him! He’s killed every last one that’s tried to exorcise him!” Both of his eyes widened as a bright, deranged smile began forming on his face. He laughed maniacally; he was excited. And it just hit Akuryo that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him this happy. Now, her interest is piqued.

He goes on, “I’d like to fight him. Do you think he’s stronger than me?” His tone was smug as if he already knew the answer.

She stays silent for a moment, stronger than him? Akuryo’s cursed energy was insurmountable, and to be entirely fair, she was so humble about it. The spirit was callous, responsible for the death of a quarter of the world’s population. She went global- outside of Japan entirely. 

She was a force to be reckoned with, and she couldn’t be stopped. She refused. And her brother, Ryojin, became a curse user all too quickly. 

The many sorcerers, from the Kamo Clan, the Zenin, the Inumaki, Fujiwara- hell, she even managed to get the Gojō clan to realize she was a severe threat to their survival; it was almost pitiful how they all failed to exorcise her. 

It was as if they weren’t the strongest sorcerers of their time. They couldn’t touch her, and she barely had to use her cursed techniques. Akuryo kept this in mind as she contemplated Ryo’s question. While he belonged to no clan, his cursed energy was almost on the same level as hers. Almost. 

She had half a mind to kill him for it, but she refused to lose the only person who cared about her; that human part of her had never left. 

“No,” She replied earnestly and huffed out a breath before she began again, “However, I’d like to find out. Shall we?” 

Ryo tried. He did, but he noticed he managed to get Akuryo interested. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t suppress the chilling laughter that erupted as soon as his sister spoke. The sound echoed through the vacant castle, startling nearby crows. A real challenge, he prayed to himself it would be. And a real challenge it will be.

               ❦ ════ •⊰ ☯︎ ⊱• ════ ❦

They strolled, following the sound of screams that grew louder the closer they got. She began to sense his potent, overwhelming energy, and for the first time in decades, a faint smile adorned her beautiful ebony features. She wasn’t one to hand out praise so quickly, but even she couldn’t deny how formidable his entire aura was.

She could tell he wasn’t stronger than her. He had the potential to surpass her power if one day she happened to die; she could also make out that much. The thought of it made her shiver in anticipation. Who is this curse? Who was the spirit that could invoke such a reaction from her, of all beings? She wanted to know desperately. 

There was a hint of something else underlying his intense energy, making her heart beat faster. If she was confused, she made no show of it. She didn’t know what this feeling was, and if there was one thing she hated, it was not knowing.

 She spotted a nearby castle, its presence evoking a sense of petrifying dread. She stopped abruptly, her brother following suit once he realized why. Someone else is here.

Out of nowhere, a freezing mist makes its way toward the both of them. Akuryo blocks it with her hand before it has the chance to reach her vicinity, the ice that formed shortly after shattering completely. Oh?

“Show yourself, curse user,” Ryo spoke for his sister, his tone utterly tranquil with a subtle pinch of annoyance. He didn’t appreciate attacks from afar.

There was no response, only the same attack coming quickly than the one before. This time, it was Ryo who blocked it effortlessly. He steps forward, closing his eyes when he stops. He breathes in, taking in the scent of the destroyed village. The minute his eyes open, medium-sized balls of hot melting lava and fireballs from his relaxed hand race in every direction, setting large fires on everything they touch.

“You hit someone,” Akuryo whispered to her brother. Her ears tingled as they quickly picked up on footsteps hurriedly rushing away from them. 

Ryo clutched his sister’s hand, and with a swift step, they were directly in front of the castle. The gate loomed large, crafted from pure bone and metal—human bones, to be precise. Akuryo found herself internally commending his design style; the bones’ patterns were intricate and captivating. 

She was in awe, but she didn’t know she was. She was familiar only with feelings of rage and indifference, requiring significant effort to provoke even the slightest hint of upset from her. She was evermore eager to meet this curse.

With a mere wave of her hand, the gate fractures into pieces, the sheer force of the action causing the wind to whip her hair back. 

A path of dried blood and scattered bones led to the castle door. As Akuryo approached the towering entrance, a deep, authoritative voice called out before she could make contact,

“I will kill you,” His voice, she thought. It’s so.. sinister, arrogant, mildly flirtatious? It demanded attention, and it definitely had hers. Her cheeks would’ve been red had her skin been light enough. What the hell is happening to her? 

“Do you promise?” She replies, her tone low and light, but even he could tell she was amused rather than scared. Sukuna had never faced a challenge, never encountered a curse that aroused anticipation within him. Sensing her energy before Uraume rushed at him with the upper side of their arm severely burned, he found himself undeniably intrigued—deeply so...

             ❦ ════ •⊰ ☯︎ ⊱• ════ ❦

previous chapter

a/n: let’s assume uraume wasn’t that good in reversed cursed technique in this era so she couldn’t heal herself that fast :)

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ 1000 Years Too Late

❥ heian!era sukuna x fem!reader

warnings: TRIGGERING & HEAVY spoils for the recent jjk chapter, if you don’t wanna be spoiled nor triggered, please don’t read.!

❥ trigger warnings & tags: mentions of death, suicidal thoughts & attempt, struggles with grief, reincarnation of sukuna’s deceased lover, unwanted pregnancy, depression, (sukuna inhabited a different body when he was with you) etc...

note: punishment for all my hunnibuns, since yall didn’t submit for the summer event. also i added a lil twist on the jjk plotline to fit this

it was over. they won, but you lost. lost the one thing that mattered to you.

you knew this was going to happen, but nobody can prepare you for death. how could they? especially for this one. they would judge you and shun you away from the academy, if they knew how you felt.

you watched as they rejoiced, reuniting and celebrating the end of sukuna, while you stood there sulking—trying so hard not to wallow in your sorrows.

he was the love of your life and now he is gone.

you stood at the spot where he died, trying so hard to feel his spirit or his energy, but there was nothing. he was truly gone. the two of you had fallen in love by accident, you couldn’t remember how it began, but you could remember how much the two of you loved each other. despite you both being on opposite sides, you couldn’t hate each other.

it was unfortunate how the world turned out for the two of you.

you entered your apartment and you immediately tensed up—immediately being hit with the cologne he used to wear. should you even be here? everything reminded you of him, the last plate in the sink that he used, the smell of the aftershave he used this morning, his crimson red slippers by the bed and his side of the bed that had grew cold.

you were alone, left alone once again. you lied down on his side of the bed, cuddling under the plush blanket, staring up at the ceiling—darkness clouding the room. ‘why’d you have to leave me? how am I supposed to move on?’ a tear trickled out of your eyes and then the flood gates opened.

you spent the whole night crying your eyes out, heart yearning for him once again.

the following days had gotten worse for you, you felt like you were decaying—mentally. you hadn’t left your place, ignoring the calls from your coworkers and your parents, you hadn’t showered, you had no motivation to nor have you eaten anything. his death took everything out of you, all you could do was drink. drink the pain away.

you sat in your bed tossing back the bottle of jack daniels that was sitting inside one of the kitchen’s cabinets. you had been drinking so much that the burn that accompanied the liquor had faded and it started to taste like juice. the vibrating sounds of your phone made you tense up, irritating you by the second while you ignored it; making you pick up—ready to drunkenly curse out the person on the other side.

that is until you heard their voice, the voice of your boyfriend's killer, the only one who knew of your relationship with the king of curses. yuuji itadori.

“hello? y/n–sensei?” you cringed, swallowing back your anger as you answered him back.

“hello yuuji, what’s up?” there was a pause on the other end and you took the opportunity to take another swig of the dark beverage.

“we haven’t seen you in a while….i just wanted to see how you were doing….” you had to stop yourself from chuckling, swallowing more and more of the bronze drink.

“im fine. is that all?” your words came out harsher than you intended, but that would’ve been a problem if you were in the right state of mind. “i'm not buying that. im coming to check on you, sensei. I’ll be there soon.” he said, hanging up on you—making you curse in frustration. you threw the bottle at the nearby wall, the glass shattering into a thousand tiny pieces and staining it with its contents.

you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him, he was a kid after all—being pulled into this mess, having to deal with everything as well. but, you didn’t know what else to do? who else to blame?

you got up from your bed, sulking on the way to the bathroom; stripping off your clothes and stepping to into the shower—turning on the water to boiling hot; the water burning away your thoughts. this was the only time you hadn’t thought about sukuna, the shower freed your mind. all you could think about was the pleasing feeling of the scalding water piercing your thoughts.

after a good ten minutes in the shower, you got out and put on something comfortable, waiting for the teen to come to your place. and a few more minutes, he was there, staring at you—like he could see right through you. “you miss him, don’t you?” the pink haired boy spoke, not wasting anytime. you looked at him and chuckled, before going into your favorite cabinet; the liquor cabinet. opening the strong bottle of vodka, you quick downed some; ignoring yuuji.

“before i killed him—,” he paused, seeing the look on your face after he said that before continued, ignoring your eyes. “he told me to go to this place, must’ve been his castle years ago, and told me to find this crate with your name on it.” he went out into the hallway and grabbed the crate, bringing it in to show you. it was filled with a bunch of letters, all signed to you.

“i never read any of them, y/n–sensei, i figured it was something special for you. help you get closure.”

“closure?” you stifled a laugh, raising any eyebrow at the boy. you burped, picking up the bottle of alcohol and shoving some more of its liquid down your throat. he could see that you were drunk, but you were also hurting.

“how the hell would you know what i need? hm?”

“because it’s not good to carry everything on your shoulders. trust me i know.” he put his hand onto of yours, eyes holding sincerity, but you couldn’t see that; heart wouldnt let you. you pulled away from him and stood a few feet back—face contorted into a scowl. “you should go.” yuuji opened his mouth to protest, but he knew shouldn’t. instead, he turned on his heels and head for the door, before saying one last thing.

“sensei, if you ever need help, im one call away.”

you avoided those letters like the plague. walking past them each time you went to retrieve a new bottle of your liquid medicine. you didn’t have the strength to, you feared that it might push you over the edge.

sukuna was on your mind heavily as you sat on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television—with a bottle in the other hand. you decided on a channel, a romantic movie playing on the big screen. you laughed in disgust at the main character, so helplessly in love—stupidly in love. you cringed when the character experienced her first heart break, rolling your tired eyes at her dramatics, that is until she received a letter. a letter from her lover.

it was like you were watching a movie about yourself. like someone was controlling you life in a way. you looked at the letter’s sitting on the island before looking back at the tv, before you got up and went over to the crate. You swallowed thickly and rummaged through them, pulling out one that had caught your eye. you ran your hand over the black ink, his handwriting thick and neat, envelope smelling just like him.

carefully tearing it open, you stared at the contents, finding a seat at the island.

‘ a thousand years ago, i ruled the world. i was nefarious, everyone bowed down to me—they respected me. i was king and then there was you, my queen. ’ you paused, taking a minute to process what the hell he was talking about. you took another swig from your personal mini bar before looking at the letter once more.

‘ i know you’re confused, i can see your face scrunching up in my mind. cute. ’ you giggled, heart swelling at you imagining him, imagining you.

‘ you were born a thousand years ago. you were everything i was not. you completed me, even though you were just a human, you made me feel more than just a curse. you made me, me. ’ your lips were trembling and you had to bite them to stop yourself from crying. he always had a way with words.

‘ you were fearsome, a little cruel at times (my kind of lady), but you were respected. however, some people didn’t feel the same and they had it out for you. you were cursed, one that would ultimately end up taking your life. after a passionate night of love making between you and i, we shared a kiss and that was the last one we ever shared. you died in my arms that night ’

plip. plip. plip.

your tears stained the letter, heart breaking into a thousand pieces. you knew that he was crying as he wrote this letter, words smudged where he was writing—that was rare for him. he was heartbroken just like you were.

' I watched the light go out of your eyes. i had to bury you. i was filled with emotions, one that i know a bit too well. rage. i killed everything and everyone in sight, trying to find a way to get you back…..it took me forever to find one. until, i met you again. the day that I saw you, i knew i had to keep you safe. you were fighting against me and i had to act like i didn’t know you, it was all part of my plan. i fell for you ten times harder and you slowly did as well. however, i found out that the curse reincarnated with you and how to break it. ’

you sipped the last of the burning booze, wiping your eyes that continuously watered with sadness. you pinched the letter, no longer wanting to read the rest of the letter, but you knew you had to. you had to know why, why the love of your life had to die.

‘ i found out the way to break it about a week ago and by the time you’re reading this, im probably already gone. the only way to break this curse was for me to die and i didn’t, you would die and be reincarnated over and over again if you continued to fall in love me. i couldn’t do it, I couldn’t see you die another thousand years later. i couldn’t lose you. so im doing what i gotta do. im sorry. ’

oh. the paper got wet.

the black ink smudged with your rainfall of tears. you couldn’t stop, your heart aching, breaking into a thousand pieces. why did the universe hate you? what did you ever do to deserve this? why did you have to live?

the bottle of bacardi fell to the floor, as you stumbled getting up—vision blurred with your sadness. you stepped on the clear shards, pricking your feet as you walked, not caring about the stinging sensation coursing through them. you staggered towards the bathroom, gripping the sink’s cool porcelain, & opening the medicine cabinet that lied behind the mirror. you picked up a random pill bottle, whipping the cap off and pouring a small handful into your mouth.

swallowing it with the help of the water from the sink’s faucet, you slid down to the tiled floor—sitting there until the drugs took full affect.

your eyes were getting weaker and weaker by the second, heart beating crazily in your chest and all you could do was lay back and smile. you were finally at peace, ready to be reunited with your love. until you felt a buzzing in your pants pocket. you weakly reached in and pulled out your phone, seeing the missed notification from itadori. oh. you smiled and opened the device, going to your text messages and pushing the little microphone icon.

“goodbye, yuuji.”

the effects of the pills consumed your body, putting you in a comatose state—a white light taking over your mind.

the sounds of medical machinery caused you to stir, eyes lids heavy as you tried to open them. the brightness of the lights above you, made you cringe, until you relaxed and was able to open them completely—taking around your surroundings. you were in fact, still alive.

you noticed there was tube inside of you mouth and you started to panic, that is until who hand came over and unplugged it for you, allowing you to gasp for air. “you’re lucky to be alive, y/n. thank yuuji for that.” shoko’s raspy voice rang in your ears and you met her eyes, tears welling in them.

“and did you know that you’re pregnant?” shoko asked and your eyes widened, there was no fucking way. after all that drinking you did, how can something like that survive in you?

almost like she could hear your thoughts, the brown haired woman spoke once more, “there seems to be some cursed energy in there. i don’t want to or need to know how, but i do need to know what do you plan on doing with it?” your mind was running a million miles per minute, a kid? a fucking fetus? you couldn’t, you couldn’t raise it—not now, not ever. not until you got help.

just as you were about to respond, there was a knock on your door and in came the pink haired teen. he smiled and looked at shoko, whom nodded her head and exited the room—leaving you two to have a mini staring contest. until, he decided to speak first, “I’ve got your text last night…I nearly raced over there—scooping you up and bringing you over here, auntie.” the name he called you made you raise an eyebrow.

“i went back to get a few things for you and I found the letter. it’s not your fault, you couldn’t control the past more can you control the future. it’s not his fault either. my uncle did what anyone would do in his situation, he might’ve dragged it a couple of times, but he lost the love of his life.” yuuji said with a little eye roll, causing you to chuckle.

“i know about your situation too…whatever you decide, im here every step of the way. you don’t need to do this on your own. he broke the curse so you could live, so live. “

you took those words to heart as you laid in the hospital bed, recovering. there was no doubt that you missed him and needed ryomen—but you know that dying now would make his death a waste. he died so you wouldn’t have to suffer, he was man; a cursed man yes—but he was the bravest man ever and you would forever love him.

“i got the last bag yuuji! tell fushiguro to help you with that one!” you shouted to the pink haired boy, grabbing the last bag from your empty apartment. you had recovered fully in shoko’s care a few weeks ago, you also signed up for therapy—to help you understand your feelings and better your mental health. you decided on getting rid of the unborn fetus, you were in no shape to carry such a thing. you weren’t strong enough and you knew sukuna would understand.

you sighed, looking around once more, taking in the memories before you moved to your new place. however, just as you were about to go, a white envelope caught your eye. you thought you shredded them all, but it seems that one was forgotten. setting down the bag of clothes, you leaned against the island and quickly opened it—heart thumping in anticipation.

‘ my love for you will never die. don’t fret my queen, ive might’ve been a thousand years too late, but i will forever love you a thousand years more. until we meet again. — ryomen . ’

you smiled, tears pouring out of your eyes while you kissed the letter, before bringing it over to the stove and lighting it on fire; burning it to a nice crisp.

that was the end of your story, but the beginning of a new one. take care, sukuna. and see you in hell.

[tanuki-kimono]

Other formal outfits of Heian ancestry - Kariginu, Hoi and Nôshi attires

(as worn by samurai of the Edo period - great charts by Nadeshico Rin). You can find more about samurai ranks and their regulated attires under the tag "samurai kimono".

The Kariginu

狩衣 Kariginu first appeared during Heian period where they were informal attires worn by kuge (nobibilty) men for activities such as hunting and 蹴鞠 kemari ball games.

Kariginu rose to formal status during Kamakura period when it started being worn by the buke (warrior class). In Edo period, it was worn by upper-ranked samurai (4th rank and above).

Edo-period kariginu designates a patterned clothing (different from the hoi, see below), often decorated with the family 紋 mon (crest). Colors were not regulated.

風折烏帽子 Kazaori-eboshi - black-lacquered hat made of silk, cloth or paper, originally worn by Heian nobility. Many eboshi shapes exist, this one is a upright style (tate-eboshi 立烏帽子) with top folded to the left.

末広 Suehiro - a type of formal folding fan. TN: the fan drawn here ressemble more a 中啓 chûkei, as suehiro have curving ribs which don't seems to be the case here (find more about fan types here)

指貫 sashinuki (or 奴袴 nubakama) - large bouffant pants. Also, note the bare feet! Rin doesn't comment this but this was probably a way to put it below sokutai and ikan (which do have socks)

袖括 Sodekukuri - decorative sleeve ties. Originally appeared on Heian clothings (like kariginu, nôshi, etc) where they were used to tighten sleeve cuffs.

The Hoi

布衣 Hoi is a variation of 狩衣 kariginu (see above).

During Edo period, it was worn by some hatamoto (6th rank samurai) via explicit permission of the shogunate - setting those rewarded by this honor apart from other vassals of the same rank.

Compared to kariginu, hoi were plain solid color.

It is worn here over a 熨斗目 noshime, a samurai kosode (=ancestor of the kimono) with stripes or lattice pattern at waist area.

As for the kariginu, note the bare feet!

The Nôshi

直衣 Nôshi was a type of everyday robes which were first worn by males of the imperial family during Heian era. Formality placed it then above kariginu.

Overtime, their use spread among nobility, and by Edo period, they were a "tad-formal" attire worn by Shogun's family for worship celebrations.

立烏帽子 Tate-eboshi - upright lacquered hat

袍 Hô - round-necked robe with large boxy sleeves

檜扇 hiôgi - formal folding fan made of cypress, also of Heian history. Those were unpatterned as painted ones were for women

指貫 Sashinuki (or 奴袴 nubakama) - large bouffant pants

[redsamuraiii]

Onymoji Closing Credits

[platrom]

Infinity.

CHAPTER 2.

JJK x READER (Kenjaku x Reader)

SUMMARY: In every universe, Ryomen Sukuna will find you, whether it is by chance or not. But only time can tell if you awake to discover your doomed fate.

WARNINGS: maids are treated poorly, mentions of bad healthcare, reader has no education, mentions of traditional society view on women, Kenjaku exists and seems kinda manipulative, reader isn’t listening to herself, Aguri kind of pressures reader, societal imbalance, kenjaku looks like someone we all know and love 🤭

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

TAGLIST (slashed means could not be tagged): @xhoneymoonx134 @ofcqdesi @sad-darksoul @qeabiiaa @moonierxh @twinklingbeautifulstars @skypperlegacy

—taglist is open! if you would like to be added, please comment. :)

i. accismus

You’ve never been inside the infirmary of the castle. Low level maids like yourself were usually sent to the dungeon nurse to receive treatment if sick.

Yet, for the first time in your life, you lay in one of the nicest rooms you have ever stepped foot in. The floor is a sterile white, but in the center of each tile is an irregular sprinkling of glistening crystals that. The four walls around you appear to be covered in some kind of film— the lining is a deep burgundy with imprints of a rosier red slicing through the edges. Thick, ivory colored columns line each side of the room, each one carved in to retain a different design of florals and swirls.

The bed you currently lay on is the nicest of all. The size is of it is twice your height and length, and the softest sheets you have ever felt are beneath your feet. A warm and heavy blanket is placed on top of you, swaddling you like a baby.

And arguably, one of the most handsome men you have ever seen is in watching you from across the room.

He smiles, watching as your eyes flit across his face. His eyes are slender slits with irises of a deep, shady blue. His lips curve at the top into a gentle bow, and the corners align perfectly straight with each other. His nose is symmetrical and straight, and his hair is slicked back into a small bun, with a few strands sweeping over the side of his face.

Are those bangs? They look a little weird— but they add to his charm, I suppose.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he steps forward, walking with his hands clasped behind his back. His attire is similar to Uraume’s— simple robes and a belt, but the color of it is black.

It brings out the specks of amethyst in his eyes.

You push yourself up, wincing as you lower your head into a polite bow. No matter the injury, you must maintain your behavior. “I work in the dungeons, sir.”

He falls into the chair beside you, cocking his head to the side. “I would have never guessed. You’re far too pretty to be a maid.”

You look up, and the handsome stranger simply grins wider.

He extends out his hand. “Kenjaku. That’s my name.”

You hesitate before allowing your hand to meet his. His fingers curl around your palm, bringing it to his face to leave a gentle kiss. You grip the sheets under the cover, trying to keep your hand from twitching in his grasp.

This is new.

“I’m (Name),” you slip your hand out of his, shoving them under the sheets. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

He chuckles at your meekness. “The pleasure is all mine, (Name).” Kenjaku leans forward, resting his arm beside yours. The close proximity makes you shy in on yourself, shifting away.

You had never been close to a man— it was forbidden in the estate. All your duty has ever been was to serve Lord Sukuna and his estate— romance, intimacy, and pleasure had never been permitted.

The trainers of the castle always said such greedy thoughts spoiled a person, and no ignorant, selfish individual would survive a day here. Selflessness was policy.

It nearly feels taboo to even be near Kenjaku— especially of a man of caliber like him. He must be an important figure to be in the infirmary a lot.

“(Name)!” a worried Aguri bursts in, sprinting over to your side, nearly toppling over Kenjaku in the process. She jumps onto your torso, squeezing you to death. “I heard what happened in the garden and I had to beg Uraume to let me see you, and-”

You put your hand over her mouth, muffling her words. You grin at her concern, but fear that her words will get you both in trouble with Kenjaku.

Rules are not meant to be broken in the Sukuna estate. Neither of you should be here. Especially Aguri.

But if Uraume permitted it, where are they? They would not have left Aguri come here herself.

A silent figure walks to the front of your bed, and you are greeted by the blank eyes of Uraume. They nod their head. “I hope you are well, (Name). I heard what happened at the ceremony.”

They turn to Kenjaku, nodding. “Hello, Kenjaku.”

He tilts his head before wiggling his fingers at Uraume. “Hello, Frozen Star.”

Their eyes twitch. Aguri purses her lips against your hand to hide a snicker at the interaction. You fight a smile, too.

“Insufferable as always,” they scoff before turning to you. Their eyes are a dark pink— nearly the color of a wild orchid—with long eyelashes that curl in a way you’ve heard the maids gossip over in jealousy.

Their face is small and sharp— it’s fitting. Stern and quiet— those are the qualities that make Lord Sukuna’s most loyal subordinate, the Frozen Star themself.

“I would like to apologize on behalf of the Sukuna estate,” Uraume bows at your feet. “You have done nothing but service your king and were punished by a concubine by completing your duties. It was decided that you would be taken to the general infirmary to be properly treated and rewarded for you efforts. The two will be punished.”

You jaw drops and Aguri snaps her head in Uraume’s direction. Even Kenjaku straightens at the news.

The concubines were punished? Because of me?

You never expected justice in a world you lived in.

But you doubt that their behavior is the only reason for their punishment.

For women to be concubines, they must come from powerful and wealthy families. There must be some voice they hold in the castle. They would scream to their family before they would fall at the feet of the king.

Kenjaku laughs, leaning back in his seat. His eyes train on your face. “You don’t understand, do you? Sukuna is all powerful— he bows down to none. He is the strongest in the world and will forever be. Their families cannot protect them from our king, no matter how many jewels they throw at his feet.”

It’s like he read my mind, you stare at Kenjaku astonished. His eyes remain fixated on your eyes, not giving away anything. He is a solid as stone.

Uraume grimaces at Kenjaku, but says nothing to dismiss his words. Aguri stays silent, watching the ground.

It must be the truth, then. Lord Sukuna is unstoppable and has true reign on his people.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” the questions slips past your lips, before you can think to speak. Kenjaku is an enigma— a puzzle. You want to play, for once.

To think like a human being. To live. To do more than survive- you wish to thrive.

Maybe, you can do it through him.

“It’s my secret,” he winks, before standing up. Uraume makes no move to stop him as he passes them and nears the door. “I hope to see you more often, (Name).”

Then, he leaves.

ii. burgeon

After the infirmary nurse had come in and determined you healthy to be released, Uraume sent you and Aguri back to your quarters to eat supper.

Nothing was said about the interaction between you and Kenjaku.

Aguri believes it is a steamy romance waiting to be unraveled— a low-level maid meets a mysterious stranger who is smitten with her at first sight will continue to meet her lover in the hours of dusk by chance— by the brushing of shoulders, the touching of hands, or the eventual meeting of lips.

You believe she is insane.

“Kenjaku doesn’t even know me,” you blow on the hot broth, stirring the bits of peas stuck on the bottom of your bowl. “And I’m not even sure what his duties are to the king. What if he’s another subordinate of he is? He would never take an interest in someone like me.”

Aguri throws her head back, sighing loudly. “You don’t know that, (Name)! He seems pretty interested in you from what you’ve told me. Staring at a woman, as she sleeps? And smiling at the sight of her awakening? That sounds like the stories of the princesses they tell children at bedtime.”

You scoff. “It’s rather unprofessional, and very unacceptable.”

“It’s fate,” Aguri declares, stuffing a bread roll into her mouth. Her feet swing under the table, knocking into yours. “You are destined to be together forever! Kenjaku is your soulmate.”

You lift the bowl to your lips, sipping the broth. A soulmate.

That sounds nice. A companion for life. But is Kenjaku that?

You’re not sure. You would describe him as a fairytale to remember for a lifetime— it would be a story you tell to younger maids the older you got— about a dashing man who spoke to you as if you were of his caliber and not a nobody. As if your presence truly mattered to him.

It was a tale to tell for the ages. A story to be passed on for centuries until history repeated for another girl luckier than you.

Maybe she will get married to a man who is her soulmate.

The thought makes you beam.

Aguri hops out of her chair, pointing an overjoyed finger at you. “See, even you like the idea!”

You know Aguri is wrong, but to disagree and wipe the smile off her face would be a criminal act. It isn’t everyday the two of you can sit, chat, and giggle like you used to.

You want to savor this moment, for as long as it lasts.

“Well,” you push your chair out, grabbing your bowl and napkin. You stick out your bowl for Aguri to place into yours. “I hope Kenjaku comes and sweeps me off my feet soon. I’ve been dying to be treated like a maiden, you know. These feet can’t carry all this weight.” You kick up your leg to your back for emphasis.

Aguri giggles, spinning around the room. The ends of her dress flutter up, dancing in circles with the turns of her body.

Even in the rags of her uniform, she is the prettiest person you have laid eyes on. Inside and out, she is unapologetically herself. And that is what makes her so beautiful.

A large part of you hopes that the interest Aguri believes Kenjaku showed to you will disappear. The attention is nice, but you don’t desire what he has to offer. No matter his status, you are content with what you have. Aguri, the ratty sheets of your bed, and the growing pile of loose beads and shiny thread is more than enough to keep you satisfied.

A small part of you refuses to believe that the intentions behind Kenjaku’s appearance as entirely pure. You’re just not sure why he choose to approach you. A night out of wedlock, perhaps?

Did Kenjaku hope to bed you, only hours ago?

The thought makes you frown. Whatever his reasons were, you hope to never cross paths with him again.

His soul is far from pure, that is sure. It is not clear in the way Aguri’s is, or even a pale yellow like Uraume’s is. His is an orb of black with streaks of blood red.

It reminds you of the souls of the concubines, but darker. They had souls of gray, with streaks of pink. Uraume refused to say what happened to them, but you fear the worst.

If Kenjaku was right, they may be dead at best. At worst, they would be fed to the tortured spirits outside the estate.

But Lord Sukuna would never care for a maid like you. Would he listen to Uraume?

You don’t think they would order a harsh punishment on the concubines, either. But you’ve never seen them with anyone of high status. Maybe the higher you were on the social status, the lighter the punishments were.

You wonder if any of them had ever been beaten and bruised in the way you had. If searing hot pikes had been slashed across the backs or whips had been lashed across their stomachs. Or if stones had been smashed into their faces.

For as horrible as they were with you, you wouldn’t wish a single punishment of yours upon them. You would only hope for mercy in the way you had desired during every beating.

A small tapping breaks you from your train of thought. Aguri stops moving, turning to look at you. You cock an eyebrow.

The room you two shared consisted of two mattresses, a tiny table with two stools, and a wooden door to exit. The walls around you were of pure stone, impossible to penetrate from any side. They were as thick as imaginable, meant to prevent maids from slipping messages and conspiring.

Too many rebellions had happened in the past from the inside. They were too messy to clean.

The tapping repeats, this time more rapid. The corners of the door rock.

Someone is trying to reach you.

No maid is permitted to leave their quarters at this time. Who could possibly be awake?

The person on the other side of the door answers for themself.

“You know, I was being serious when I said I wanted to see you again, (Name).”

Aguri squeals, slapping her hands over her mouth. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she jumps for joy. He’s here for you! her look screams.

You cringe. I don’t want him to be here!

Aguri rolls her eyes.

Kenjaku hums. “I won’t leave until I see your face, my dear. I’ve only come to see you, love.”

Love?

Your stomach churns. Is this courtship?

Aguri giggles excitedly, grabbing your arm and tossing you to the door. “I’ll cover for you, just be safe!”

You stare at her bewildered. “You can’t expect me to leave in the night with a strange man? I’ll get punished!”

“Boo-hoo! No one will know,” Aguri dismisses, rushing to grab your coat. It’s a thin, black piece of cotton that you receive during the winter to keep yourselves warm as you work. There are no sleeves or buttons, simply two ends to tie the material around your shoulders.

Aguri wraps it around you, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You only live once, (Name). Just live, will you?”

She doesn’t add it, but she wants you to live her dreams for her. A part of her must wish a man like Kenjaku had come crawling to her door, begging for her voice. So, she’s living her fantasy through you.

I’d only do this for you.

“Alright,” you nod your head. “But please, stay quiet. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Aguri lights up before wrapping you in a hug and then shoving you to the door.

“Stay safe!” is all she says before she pushes you into Kenjaku’s arms and shuts the door in your face.

His hands catch your waist, easing you to him. The front of your foot meets his, and you are met with the sight of his eyes peering into yours, faces millimeters apart.

He smells of vanilla and jasmine. Sweet, alluring, and welcoming.

The blue of his lowers, and his eyes flit to your lips. You inhale, your hands coming to his chest.

“You,” you stumble, “You said you wanted to speak with me?”

His eyes remain on your lips, studying the way your mouth remains parted as you await his answer. His hand slides to your neck and his lids lower.

The expression he holds is intimate, as if he were staring at his lover. At the woman of his dreams, the mother of his children, and his future bride.

You are none of those.

But it is nice to be treated like glass for once, isn’t it? To be adored and fawned over. To be loved.

You were not a righteous being. You were not perfect. You did wrong.

Is one mistake okay?

Kenjaku answers. “I wanted to see you, my dear. To hear your voice and your laugh. To watch your eyes light up at the sight of the sky.”

He’s romantic and poetic. His words seem so genuine and sincere.

Maybe it is okay to let go for once— to fall. It may not be forever, but it will be true; at least for you.

“But you can’t see the sky from down here,” you step back, tightening the cloth around your neck. The corners of Kenjaku’s lips rise.

“That’s why we’ll be going up, dear.”

iii. nightlight

“I never knew the estate had a balcony this high up,” you step outside of Kenjaku’s room.

It was located on the second floor of the castle, above the king’s own floor. Apparently, the king’s closest subordinates rested here.

Each room was packed with plush velvet pillows, satin pillowcases, leather couches, and gold decor. A wooden bowl of fresh fruits are presented to each door every morning and subordinates can request any meal from the kitchen they so desire.

They have their own personal bathing quarters, with a large bath made out of silver and an assortment of fresh flowers and oils to spill into the newly warmed water they can order from their maids.

To live like this is to live like a king.

A hand slides down your back. “Look at the stars, (Name). Do you know any constellations?”

You shake your head. “I can hardly read.”

Kenjaku tuts. You tilt your head.

“We must change that, shouldn’t we?”

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