#jujutsu kaisen sukuna

[pinknipszz]

heian era sukuna x reader →

(a/n: loosely inspired by that one jessica rabbit scene; this is also borderline uraume/reader bc theyre so cute ugh)

people don’t understand how you can love the king of curses. his figure was grotesque—beyond repulsive—with four heavy hands that could snap your limbs into two if he so pleased. they can’t get past the four eyes either, but you found them charming. how could you not when he looked at you so sweetly? 

“where is my husband?” you inquire for the nth time, your voice as sweet as molasses as you tug at the ends of uraume’s sleeves. the humble servant doesn’t answer immediately; they know not to, and you don’t mind. while you wait, you watch the passerines tease the fish in the pond from your spot on the engawa.

uraume dips their elegant fude into the shallow inkstone beside you. calligraphy and whatnot. “lord sukuna is tending to matters in the southern provinces,” they answer with the same amount of patience they had a few minutes ago, and an hour before, and another before that. they must be used to it now.

“do you think he misses me?” comes a light brush against their pale hand. uraume exhales through their nose at your question, but not from exasperation. never that. “yes,” they say with utmost sincerity, like it’s gospel truth, before painting one long, flourishing stroke. “very much so.”

content, you cease your ministrations and fall on your back, giggling at the way your hair splays beneath your head. “he loves me,” you coo and cup your sun-kissed cheeks. “my husband loves me, and i love him too.” you think the edge of their lips twitch up into the barest hint of a smile.

but it vanishes before you can get a proper glimpse. sighing, uraume gives you a knowing look from the corner of their eye as they dip their fude back into the inkstone. you turn to lay on your side and watch how it absorbs the ink. “the servants, though adequate, have been quite bothersome lately.”

they finish the kanji in several swift strokes. 麗. rei for beauty. uraume continues. “there’s ill speak of your relationship with lord sukuna.” you count the passerines, letting the unspoken question hang in the air. shall i do something about it? it’s uraume’s turn to wait patiently for an answer, an ultimatum.

but you don’t give one so easily, preoccupied with an image that resurfaces in your mind: a group of servants—fresh off the cut and eager-eyed—gossiping by the water well. you don’t think they saw you, unless they were stupider than you thought, but they were loud enough to hear.

uraume is watching you, properly now, as you blow a stray strand of hair from your face. when they lean in to gently tuck it behind your ear, persimmons and plums permeate your senses. “do not bother with them. they talk because they do not understand why i love him,” you decide with finality.

“and why do you love him?” there’s a hint of fondness in their voice, reserved for you.

you look up through your delicate lashes, smiling cheekily. “he makes me laugh.”

(masterlist) | (a/n: would yall hate me if I wrote uraume/reader's pls be honest)

[lexiene]

Watching you eat bc your preggy with his babies~

[faintrustle]

King SUKUNA and his cute ribbon

[bratbby333]

rough game...c'mere, brat — ryomen sukuna

𓆩♱𓆪 synopsis gamer!bf sukuna loses his game. while he's taking his anger out on you, he goes a little too far. 𓆩♱𓆪 word count 2k 𓆩♱𓆪 cw established relationship, language, choking, use of safe word, rough sex, hints of cnc, degradation, cervix fucking, smut/angst/comfort 𓆩♱𓆪 an from an anon request! sorry it took so long my love...thank you for being patient with me xx not beta read!

nsfw 𓆩♡𓆪 mdni

“Fuck this dumbass shit,” a grating voice broke through your peaceful silence. The clattering sound of a discarded headset and the angry glide of a chair echoed through the hallway, making your shoulders tense. Not even a minute later, Sukuna’s heavy footsteps stomped toward the room, shoving the door open. 

“Rough game?” you inquired, your eyes still focused on your reading. He took quick strides toward you, scowling as he tore your book from your hands. Before you could reprimand him for interrupting your quiet time and discarding your book so haphazardly, his hands were anchored under your armpits and pulling you from your chair. He tossed you onto the bed, your body bouncing against the mattress. Not a single word was exchanged as he clambered on after you, but his hungered eyes scaling up and down your body told you everything you needed to know. 

Shock reverberated through your body at how quickly this was unfolding, but the aggressiveness of his actions paired with the animalistic look on his face sent pangs of desire through your core. It was typical for Sukuna to be irritated after a particularly infuriating game, but not like this. Anticipation swirled through your stomach, excited for what was to come. He fucked you so good when he was pissed.

His hands clawed across your body as he tore your clothes away, his feverish kisses turned into battling tongues and clashing teeth as he leaned over you. He ran two digits between your slit before spitting a fat glob of saliva onto your cunt, thumbing at it as he licked the palm of his free hand, wrapping it around his length. He jerked himself off as he pumped into you, his thick fingers dragging against your g-spot with every plunge. His tongue darted from between his lips, the muscle lapping hungrily at your nipple, sucking harshly before latching on, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub. Your back arched toward him, fully immersed in the shockwaves of desire that coursed through you. With a couple rough rubs of his shaft against your clit, he was sinking deep inside you, bottoming out immediately. 

You had seen him get like this on multiple occasions– he got riled up pretty easily when it came to his games. The fact that you got any sort of foreplay before the main event was a shock to you as his hips rutted against you. But even then, it still wasn’t enough to prepare you for what was in store. Sukuna gave you no time to adjust to his pace as he pummeled your pretty pussy. His thick cock tugged in and out, the less than optimal amount of lubrication making the stretch of his girth borderline unpleasant. But the sensation of his head rubbing against your sweet spot made your tummy churn with lust, your arousal flooding through you, dampening your cunt after a few of his mean strokes. 

He felt your walls flutter around him in an attempt to adjust to the abruptness of his intrusion. He stared down at where your bodies met as he bullied himself deeper, your face twisted as you worked to accommodate him. Small whimpers left your lips as he fucked into you, every brutal rock of his pelvis made the head of his cock carress you in just the right way. Sukuna loved when you struggled to take all of him. Even with the work he did to open you up with his fingers, he knew it wasn’t enough to get you good and ready. But he was hungry, starved even, frustration ripping through him, his carnal urges taking over. This wasn’t enough for him tonight. He needed an outlet to channel his anger into…he needed to break you. 

A dark growl emanated from his sternum as he repositioned, pressing your legs toward your chest. You had just barely gotten used to him before the new angle pushed his cock way deeper than your body wanted to allow, and so soon at that. Something was off today. Your eyes frantically darted across his face as his vicious thrusts began to slam into your womb. Sukuna’s dark, demented expression was bone-chilling. And then it clicked. He didn’t care if it felt good…he was happier when it didn’t, when he was the only one getting off. His ego had taken over. He wanted it to hurt, wanted to take all the rage he felt out on you. And that scared the shit out of you.

"Ahh!...'K-kuna...Sukuna!" you yelped, your palms pressed into his abdomen as his hips ruthlessly slammed into you. His hands pushed into the back of your thighs, your legs shaking from the deep stretch. The thick head of his cock brushed meanly against your cervix with every thrust. 

"Yeah, brat...take that shit, say my fuckin' name," he growled, pressing your legs deeper. One of his hands was planted by the side of your head, the other wrapped around your throat while he leaned his full body weight against the back of your legs, folding you into yourself, the pressure against your ribs coupled with his bruising grip around your windpipe labored your breathing, making your head spin.

"I...can't....h-hurts," you rasped, your voice a broken whisper as his fingers dug even deeper into the sides of your neck. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, slamming himself against you with hungered rage. 

He was so caught up in his own bliss, ignoring your mumbled pleas for relief as he bulldozed into you. He didn’t care. The sadistic chuckle that broke through his chest solidified that fact. His eyes were dark, his brows furrowed deep. He was lost in the sloppy sounds of your pussy sucking him in, spurred on by the whines that seeped through your constricted windpipe as he slammed into the soft wall at the back of your cunt. The rough huffs of your breathing and your fragmented whimpers got him off even more.

“Su..kuna,” you stammered, your words caught in your lungs. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, attempting to pull his fist away, but he wouldn't budge.

You were dazed, your eyes watering from the ache between your legs as you slapped his arm, "W-wait–ahh!– shit…’s too mu..ch." You wedged your arm between the two of you, rubbing quick circles against your clit in hopes to alleviate the burn. 

But his pace was unwavering and your body couldn’t adjust. His eyes were locked on yours, a demented grin on his face as waves of fear raked through your body…an unvoiced message ringing clear between the two of you: He heard you, but he’s not stopping.

He dipped down to suck harshly at the sweet flesh behind your ear, biting at the sensitive skin. “Stay still n take it, brat…let me have this.” His words echoed in your head as he leaned back, straightening the arm that was anchored around your throat as he mercilessly rutted into you, every smack shooting both pain and pleasure through your trembling frame.

The rough plunges of his cock iinn and ooutt of your sticky walls burned so beautifully. As much as you wanted to surrender to the waves of arousal that were threatening your floodgate, it was too much. The discomfort outweighed the enjoyment. Not this time. It was all too much.

“Fu..ck,” you squeaked, your throat raw and face flushed as anxiety gnawed at your spine. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your vision going dark. “R-red,” was all you could manage through the tightness of your throat. Your eyes glazed over, stars visible behind your heavy lids from your depleting supply of oxygen. Your trembling hands clawed up and down his forearms in hopes he’d hear you. But he didn’t. His rhythm persisted, the vulgar sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass drowned out your desperate pleas. He was splitting you in half, every rut of his hips sending you closer to your breaking point.

“Ple..ase–unghh…can’t,” tears welled in your eyes as Sukuna smiled down at you. “Too much, huh? Can’t take me like ya used to?” His jaw was tight as he taunted you, his grip around your neck tightening even more as he jostled your head around. Your fearful eyes flipped a switch in his brain as he pulled out and shoved all the way back in, delighted with the way your writhing body attempted to get away from him. His brow arched with amusement as he watched your face contort. This was a game for him. He was getting off on toying with you. A broken scream cut through your lungs while you gasped for air, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Red–fu..uck!–RED!” A perplexed look painted your boyfriend’s face before realization set in. You gasped as his grip loosened and his hips stilled against you. A lingering hint of disappointment flashed through his eyes as he pulled out, pushing himself off you to allow your legs to fall against the bed. You wheezed and coughed, the pulsing ache in your abdomen fully setting in as you worked to regain your composure. 

"You don't have to take this shit out on me all the time, 'Kuna!" You swiped away the spit that was dribbling from the corner of your mouth. "You were too rough this time."

"You've never complained about it before," he huffed with a roll of his eyes, his ignorance sending pangs of anger through your body.

"Can you take me seriously for once in your life? You hurt me, Sukuna." You muscled your body away from him, propping yourself up against the headboard. He stood, circling around to you before taking a seat next to you. You avoided his gaze, your stomach churning and head buzzing while you worked to quell your fear.

He watched as your chest heaved, eyes brimming with tears as you massaged your neck, your body twitching from the throbbing pulse in your abdomen while irritation prickled under your skin at his obvious indifference. Sukuna dipped down fast, catching your fallen tears on his tongue, a smug grin on his face as he pulled your hands away from your throat, holding them against his chest. A groan escaped him at the sight of the purple bruises in the shape of his fingertips decorating the delicate flesh of your throat, the look of your fucked out disposition turning him on once more. “I’ll be gentle…if you wanna try again,” he suggested, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Sukuna,” you warned, shooting daggers toward your pink haired boyfriend. “I’m being serious. It really hurt,” you whined. Your face contorted at his lack of compassion as you rubbed away the trail of spit he had left on your face, but you weren’t surprised in the slightest. He huffed before shifting closer to you. A heavy silence settled in the room as your breathing began to return to normal. 

"I...'m sorry," he grumbled, unsure of how to comfort you. It was the first time you’d ever used your safeword. His face was neutral, but confusion flooded his mind, knowing for certain that he’d been far rougher than that in the past. He thumbed the back of your hands before placing a kiss on each one. “I didn’t mean to hurt you… that bad,” he glanced at your face to make sure that comment didn’t upset you. “I thought you were enjoying it, didn’t know that when you said it hurt you actually meant it.” 

Your head shook side to side. To be fair, you usually said things like that to boost his ego, especially after he lost a game. The dirty talk exchanged between the two of you during one of your sessions was definitely…specific–not for the faint of heart. You sighed deeply as you worked to calm your nerves, the pain in your core subsiding. It was an honest misunderstanding. You couldn’t stay mad at him for long, either. 

“It’s okay,” you conceded, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on his cheek, before pulling back, a coy smile on your face as you looked up at him. “Just listen to me next time, will ya?” A raspy “mhmm” vibrated through his chest as you curled your body against his. 

“Give me 20 and we can try again…but go easy on me.”

“No promises, doll.”

“Sukuna…”

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚

an took a break from my gamer!bf sukuna series n i forgot how much i enjoyed writing for him. sending a big thank you to the anon who requested this...i hope you enjoy my love.

also!! i'm almost at 500 followers??? thank you guys so much for your support on my writing...i literally cannot believe it! i love y'all sm xx

tag list @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @youliveincassisworld

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[daeydream]

a/n: the Sukuna brainrot.....the Sukuna brainrot..... ಥ‿ಥ

"I fucking hate you."

Pouting from where you were lying on his chest, you grin as you feel Sukuna's arm grudgingly wrap around you and lay still in the tense silence.

The very tense silence, you might add.

Not making any effort to remove the silence, you continue to peacefully lie in his arms, still giving him the silent treatment, but happily accepting his angry cuddles.

Cuddles were cuddles, am i right?

Even if Sukuna was giving you a side eye, a scowl and his scariest glare.

"what?"

Sukuna scowls down at you, already knowing that he is going to be fatally struck by a pout and that adorable little smile on your smug little face.

He looked at you.

And was smacked with love and adoration, but he suppressed it with all of his might because he was supposed to be mad at you!!!

"i'm trying to be mad at you."

"is it working ryo?"

Gritting his teeth, as you rested your chin against his chest, your eyes all doey, all cute, inoccent, and he was falling straight into your trap.

"no!"

'yes.'

It was working.

And he hated that it was working.

"Come on, ryo!! i already said sorry."

He didn't say anything, but the way his arms tightened around you, said words he was too proud to say.

"i'm sorry, ryomen."

Reaching up to grab his face, you began peppering his pretty face with small kisses, his grip loosening for a second before immediately tightening again.

Was that a blush forming on his face?

....

nah, you were hallucinating.

"do you forgive me yet?"

rolling his eyes at your teasing smirk, he instead scooted you around, making sure that you were comfy before resting his hand on your waist, his other large hand coming up and tilting your chin so that he could look you straight in the eyes.

"shut up and kiss me."

And with a happy hum, you cheerfully followed his wishes, already knowing where this was headed.

To the bedroom, covered with bruises and a high chance of not being able to walk the next day.

But it was worth it!!

And it's part of loving the Ryomen Sukuna.

And no matter how much he denies it, he most definitely loves you.

DAEYDREAM 2024 ©

[mononijikayu]

night we met — ryomen sukuna.

Feeling the gravity of this moment, he tightened his grip on your hand. You looked down at him and smiled—a gesture that sealed his newfound faith in this bond. At that moment, Ryomen Sukuna felt as though he had been reborn. No longer just a boy lost in the festival's chaos, but a person with a role, a duty, and a place in the world. His life, from that moment forward, was to be lived for you, in devotion to the path you would guide him on. You had become his guardian, his mentor—his goddess—and he, in turn, devoted himself to be your loyal follower.

GENRE: Heian Era to Cursed Womb Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining;

masterlist

listen: the night we met by lord huron

note: i finally got a break after two exams. i still have one more. but i wanted to pop in and give this to you before i disappear into my books again. i hope you enjoy this little thing~ i love you~

FATHER THOUGHT THAT THERE WOULD BE MORE NEED FOR RETAINERS TO COME WITH THEM. As they navigated the bustling streets of the city, Ryomen Hiromi couldn't shake off a palpable sense of tension, despite the festive atmosphere. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated the cobblestone paths, and the air was filled with lively chatter and laughter. Yet, an underlying unease lingered—perhaps a whisper from the gods, you mused, familiar with the capricious nature of the divine. Your lips tightened into a straight line, your hand unconsciously drifting to the hilt of your sword. Beneath the surface festivity, an undercurrent of anxiety was palpable.

This might explain why your father had insisted on bringing as many men as possible. The Ryomen family was never short of loyal retainers, and Masaomi had been eager to accompany you. Your father's protective instincts weighed heavily on you, his warnings echoing in your mind. As the sole remaining heir of your distinguished family, his concerns were magnified by the elders’ incessant uproar. Though you understood the necessity of your high profile, it sometimes felt stifling.

As you continued through the lively streets, the festival's atmosphere was electrifying. Lanterns hung from every post, casting dancing lights over the faces of the revelers, each absorbed in their own joyous celebration. The air was thick with the scents of street food and a cacophony of laughter and music, creating a chaotic symphony. Yet, despite the jovial chaos, a tug of unease pulled at your consciousness.

You maintained an even pace and a neutral expression, blending seamlessly into the crowd. The presence of your uncle Hiramu was reassuring; his experienced hand rested nonchalantly on his sword, his eyes scanning the crowd with practiced vigilance. His readiness to protect offered comfort and a reminder of the ever-present potential for danger.

Ryomen Hiromi experienced the weight of the festival differently. While others were drawn into the spirit of celebration, your senses were heightened, alert to any discord. The subtle narrowing of your eyes and the stiffness in your shoulders might go unnoticed by an ordinary onlooker, but they were clear indicators of your tension. The flickering shadows cast by the lantern lights seemed to hide potential threats, and every burst of laughter could be masking whispered conspiracies.

You knew you couldn't afford to let down your guard, not when the stakes were so high. This mission was critical, especially to you, marking a step towards your heir’s role, and the weight of this responsibility was heavy on your shoulders. The festival, with its mask of tradition and celebration, might well be a veneer for more sinister undertones.

Navigating through this sea of faces, your gaze occasionally met those of strangers, your deep hazel eyes searching for any hint of recognition or malice. Being with your uncle Hiramu brought some peace, tempering the anxiety that gnawed at your heart, but the persistent unease remained. Something was amiss, and you could not yet pinpoint it. Your instincts screamed for attention, urging vigilance as the night promised to stretch long.

Reports of strange occurrences and unexplained events had been increasing, stirring unrest among the populace and reaching the ears of Lord Isamu. Typically, such critical missions would fall to your elder brother, Akimu, the designated heir tasked with maintaining the safety and stability of Hida's heartland in your father's stead. But now, with Akimu unable to lead, the weight of responsibility had shifted onto your capable yet burdened shoulders.

Each step felt heavy under the scrutinizing gaze of the moon, illuminating the bustling night with a mocking smile. You took a moment to gather your scattered thoughts, steadying the swirling emotions within. As you lifted your gaze, your eyes began to sharpen, honing in on the play of shadows cast by the lantern light, looking beyond the immediate spectacle to the hidden corners and fleeting movements that might betray underlying threats.

This mission was about more than following in Akimu's footsteps; it was about proving that Ryomen Hiromi could stand firm on uneven, unfamiliar ground. You were determined to command respect, to show that despite your gender, you were every bit the Ryomen heir as any man could be.

As you moved away from the main festivities into quieter, dimly lit parts of the town, Uncle Hiramu finally spoke, his voice low and serious, “Little niece, do you sense it too? There’s a heaviness in the air tonight. It must be what your father was speaking of.”

You nodded, your sharp gaze scanning the shadows. “Yes, I feel it. It's as if the air itself is thick with whispers of the past. There’s a disturbance, not just a vengeful spirit, I think. Something older, deeper.”

Hiramu’s eyes narrowed as he looked ahead. “We should be cautious. These kinds of spirits are often bound to old grudges or unresolved tragedies. The festival’s energy could stir it more than usual.”

You turned into a less crowded alley, where the noise of the festival faded into a distant hum. Your elegant robes brushed against the cobblestones, your attire blending traditional beauty with practicality. The layered silk of your fine kimono was dyed in deep blues and purples, embroidered with silver threads that caught the light, mimicking the night sky. Your obi was tightly cinched, supporting the small dagger hidden within—a necessity for any noble venturing into uncertain situations.

Your father insisted that you dress appropriately. It was outlandish, you supposed. The choices were far too simple for taste, unsuitable for any young beauty of such noble stock. But this was as comfortable as it was safe. Pretense of trade being your desire here in these parts, was much easier than to be quite obvious. Anything more than this would have attracted as much attention as retainers.

“Do you think it’s tied to a particular location or event?” you asked, your voice steady despite the creeping chill that seemed to cling to the edges of the night air. “It’s getting me curious…”

“It could be,” Hiramu replied, his hand never straying far from his sword. “These spiteful little cursed spirits often attach themselves to physical locations where significant emotional events occurred. We’ll need to explore the some sites around here—old battlefields, abandoned shrines, places of great loss or betrayal. Someone is deeply angry, little niece."

Your mind raced, piecing together knowledge with the clues of your current environment. “There’s an old well not far from here, sealed up after a great tragedy struck a hundred years ago during a similar festival. A fire had broken out, and many lives were lost. It was said that the well was cursed thereafter.”

Hiramu’s gaze sharpened, his lips just as sharp when he smiled. “That’s a good place to start. Lead the way, little niece.”

IT HAD TAKEN SOME TIME TO FIND THE CURSED SPIRIT. As the moon ascended, bathing the lively festival in its serene, silver luminescence, you and Uncle Hiramu pressed on with your diligent investigation. The festive air, alive with the thrum of activity and the laughter of revelers, contrasted sharply with your growing tension. Underneath the celestial glow, the reality of your mission slowly began to crystallize, taking on a new urgency as unexpected developments unfolded. It had begun with something ever so simple and from there, unpredictable fate intervened and soon enough, the chaos ensued.

The moment of realization struck you with unsettling suddenness. You patted down the side. There was nothing but panic as you looked to the side of the obi and found nothing. One look was enough to confirm that eager suspicion: the coin purse was missing. You looked up towards Uncle Hiramu. You knew that he was trying not to laugh, but his eyes were too obvious. You smacked your uncle which prompted the laugh to bellow from his belly. All you could do was mope in the silence. You supposed that it was alright. Money was not a big deal. But… your eyes widened.

Without hesitating, your eyes swept across the sea of faces swirling around you. The atmosphere was charged with the festival’s energy, yet your focus was razor-sharp. It was then that you had spotted a distinct splash of color that stood out against the earthy tones of the crowd—a young boy with striking pink hair, weaving through the crowd with the agility and desperation of someone fleeing. You looked at Hiramu, and he nodded back at you.

It was then where your instincts kicked in. You tapped your uncle's arm and started mouthing instructions as subtly as one could towards the fleeing figure. Without needing further explanation, Hiramu caught the urgency and nodded. Hiramu took the other direction as you turned to the other.

As you navigated through the dense crowd, the distance between you and the boy closed gradually, you were certain of it. You could sense Hiramu’s cursed energy with each step below against the wide battered ground. You were certain that you were ever so close to bringing a close to the night. But first, you must unravel the night's mysteries. That boy was the key.

Ryomen Hiramu wasted no time as he dashed from stall to stall, street to street. He could feel it, he could feel it too well. That overwhelming power. His seasoned body kicked into high gear, and he swiftly maneuvered through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the pink-haired boy darting through the festival, speeding through the brunt of human bodies. Hiramu cursed under his breath. The child was too clever. With each step, Hiramu's determination as he ran through a corridor of small houses clamped together—one of the poorest sects of life in the quaint area.

As he closed the gap between them, Hiramu noticed an unusual, dark shimmer around the boy—an ominous aura that seemed almost palpable in the moonlit night. This was no mere act of theft; it was clear there was something far more sinister at play. The aura surrounding the boy twisted and writhed like a living thing, a visual manifestation of deep-seated emotional turmoil. It became apparent that this child was not acting alone; he was bound to a cursed spirit, a malevolent force likely fueled by intense feelings of anger, fear, and loneliness.

The realization struck Hiramu with a harsh chill. The spirit's presence suggested that the boy's actions were not entirely his own, that he was under the influence of these dark energies that fed on negative emotions. Such spirits were known to attach themselves to vulnerable souls, magnifying their darkest thoughts and driving them to act in ways they might not otherwise, turning their inner turmoil into outward chaos. Just as he drew his sword, you turned from the corner. Ryomen Hiromi threw that heavy bound haori away, looking at Hiramu.

“Shibaru One! Binding Fate!” you exclaimed, your voice clear and commanding as streaks of luminous energy surged towards the boy. He let out a sharp cry, writhing against the ethereal chains that now ensnared him under your control.

“Be careful!” Hiramu cautioned, moving closer to assist. “He's the source, he's entwined with that cursed spirit!”

You nodded, your focus undeterred by the boy's struggles as you tightened your grip on the energy that bound him. The spectral chains glowed brighter, each pulse of light strengthening the hold over the chaotic spirit within him. Your uncle's warning echoed in your mind, reinforcing your burning resolve to act with both precision and caution.

The boy’s eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and confusion, met yours. You could see the turmoil swirling within him, the innocent caught in the grip of something far beyond his control. “Hold on, just a little longer,” you murmured, your voice a blend of firmness and reassurance intended to pierce through the haze of his panic. A faint smile blossomed from your lips. “Trust me, okay?”

Hiramu understood the gravity of the situation—they were dealing with a phenomenon that was both a danger to the boy and to all those attending the festival. The cursed spirit needed to be dealt with delicately and decisively, for the safety of the boy and the peace of the community. There were too many people here that would not understand what was going on.

There was no need to make a bigger ruckus. With this understanding, Ryomen Hiramu pressed on, his resolve hardened, knowing that he and you must act swiftly to intervene and dispel the darkness that had taken hold of the young boy.

As Hiramu closed in, the cursed spirit sensed the threat and began to lash out, manifesting as tendrils of dark energy. You, realizing the severity of the situation, knew immediate action was required. "Start the purification ritual!" Hiramu shouted over his shoulder as he dodged a swipe from the spirit. "I'll hold it off! Just go and do your job!”

You crossed the tips of your fingers, your eyes narrowing deeper into the soul of the boy. You began to chant softly, the words of an ancient purification rite falling rhythmically from your lips. The boy looked frightened by all means, as the white light did what it could, purging one dark fabric from the boy one after the other.

The air around you seemed to hum with power as your words wove through the currents of energy emanating from your firm hands. The glowing chains tightened further, and the dark aura around the boy began to dissipate, sucked away into the void created by your spell. But as with all things, it tried to keep alive.

Meanwhile, Hiramu engaged the spirit, his sword movements precise, each strike intended not to harm the boy but to distract the spirit and weaken its hold. The sound of the boy’s screams pierced through over and over again, the cursed spirit overlaying against each agonizing echo. He could see the ritual's glow intensifying, the light beginning to engulf the boy, binding and suppressing the dark energy around him.

With a final, desperate cry, the cursed spirit dissipated, expelled in one painful grip. All of a sudden, your white cursed energy also disappeared. You gasped out loud as your shaking knees fell to the ground, weary from it all. It was the first time you had used that purification technique. But it seemed that it had finally worked. You looked at the empty depth of your palm.

As the ritual reached its climax, your voice rose in a powerful cadence, your tender hands outstretched towards the boy, directing the flow of purified energy. The cursed spirit writhed and howled and fought over and over, its form becoming unstable under the ritual’s influence. Sweat permeated through your sleeves, your teeth gritted, your eyes narrowed, over and over the ringing of each of your ears continued as the boy continued to fight for his life.

Your eyes shined. You had done that. Hiramu looked at you, rushing towards you. But you stopped him, coughing as you regained air. You pointed to the boy, sprawled on the pavement. Hiramu sheathed his sword back. Soon enough, Hiramu could only lift the boy in his arms.

The boy, now freed from the spirit’s grasp, collapsed, exhausted but unharmed. He was perhaps trying to catch his breath. He must have been exhausted. You, having returned to the plane of reality, rushed to his side, your own energy spent. You were certain that there was no bigger word than relief as you eagerly confirmed that he was safe. His eyes were both soft and weary as he looked at that boy. He lifted his head at you.

Hiramu's eyes remained narrowed, the wrinkles at the corners deepening as he surveyed the scene before him. Despite the successful expulsion of the spirit, his instincts told him there was more to uncover. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight that drew your attention immediately. "Something is still not right," he said, his tone heavy with unease.

You nodded, understanding the depth of your uncle's concern. You gently placed your palm on the boy's forehead, feeling the residual heat of the ritual. "He's warm, uncle," you observed as your voice echoed tinged with worry.

"Purification techniques are painful to the body," Hiramu responded, his voice a low hum, soothing yet solemn. "It’s purging the worst of the soul, after all. Still, it must be said. You did well, little niece."

The corners of your mouth twitched into a slight smile, a rare break in your usually stern demeanor. "Such praise is rare, uncle."

Hiramu let out a soft snicker, his usual stern facade momentarily giving way to familial warmth. "I compliment you all the time," he claimed, though his smile betrayed the playfulness of his exaggeration.

"That sounds like a lie, uncle," you retorted, your weary eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection.

"Yeah, yeah," Hiramu dismissed playfully, but his attention quickly returned to the matter at hand as the boy began to stir. You blinked, taken aback by the sudden movement. You had been so focused on your exchange that the boy's awakening caught you momentarily off guard.

"What do you intend to do with this boy, niece?" Hiramu asked, his tone shifting back to the gravity of your situation. His question hung in the air, pressing you for a decision, reminding you of your responsibilities. “You’re the only one who can decide the lad’s fate.”

“Uncle—”

“You are my better, even if I am your elder and uncle.” Hiramu added, watching you become flustered as he watched the young lady shift in her position. “What do you think is right?”

You took a deep breath, your gaze shifting from Hiramu to the boy who was slowly regaining consciousness. You could see the confusion and fear flicker across his young face as he came to grips with his surroundings. He seemed disoriented, his eyes darting around, trying to make sense of what had happened to him.

Your voice rang out with a firm resolve, words carrying an air of unwavering determination. You met the older man’s gaze with a steady intensity, your expression betraying no hint of doubt. 

"We'll bring him back with us to the manor," you declared, leaving no room for argument. "I'll send word ahead to let them know."

Hiramu's response was laced with a sense of foreboding. "They won't like this," he cautioned, his words heavy with the weight of tradition and expectation. You understood exactly what he meant—the elders, with their adherence to protocol and rigid adherence to tradition, were unlikely to approve of your deviation from established norms. But your determination remained unshaken.

"That is a matter I will handle myself, uncle," you asserted, your voice steady and resolute. You were acutely aware of the potential consequences of defying the elders, but your concern for the boy's well-being outweighed any fear of reprisal. "Do not worry."

Hiramu sighed, a reluctant acknowledgment of your determination. Despite his reservations, he knew better than to stand in your way when your stubborn mind was set to its desires. 

"Very well," he conceded, his voice tinged with resignation. At that moment, he placed his trust in your judgment, knowing that you would do whatever was necessary to ensure the young boy’s safety and well-being, even if it meant challenging the traditions of your elders. “What else?”

“We might stay a day longer, to make sure that this is the only concern.” You retorted back to him, pursing your lips together in a tight line. “I shall head off and see to it that barriers are strengthened. There need not be any more situations like this one.”

“Very well. I’ll go ahead and take him to our inn.”

“Make sure he’s well fed, uncle. And that he’s alright.” 

Hiramu snickers. “You act as though I didn’t take care of you or your brother.”

"I’ll check on him when I return. We need to ensure he's truly free of any residual curse," you said tenderly towards the older man.. "We also need to understand who he is. How did he get here at all, past the barriers. And how did he get this powerful. This puzzle requires quite a bit of effort.”

Hiramu nodded in agreement, his face reflecting his approval of your thorough approach. "Very well," he replied, "We should also see if we can help him find his way. No one should be left to wander alone, much so not one who has been through such an ordeal."

You knelt beside the boy, offering a reassuring smile. "Can you tell us your name?" you asked gently, hoping to ease him into conversation.

As the boy's gaze met yours, his initially wide eyes began to soften, a subtle shift that hinted at his growing realization of safety in your presence. Despite this reassurance, he remained silent, a reaction you attributed to the lingering shock and confusion from the events he had endured. Understandingly, you accepted his quiet, knowing well that pushing him to speak before he was ready could only cause further distress.

You addressed him with a gentle, reassuring smile, your tone soft yet imbued with an underlying strength. "Take all the time you need, little boy," you encouraged, your words floating warmly in the cool air, offering him the space and time he might require to recover from his ordeal. Your smile, kind and patient, was meant to communicate that he was under no pressure to reveal anything before he felt comfortable.

Straightening up, you prepared to continue your duties, aware of the responsibilities that still awaited your attention beyond this encounter. You glanced towards your uncle, who had also been through a trying time, his vigilance unyielding as he supported your efforts. 

"Get some rest. You too, uncle," you added, acknowledging his fatigue and your appreciation for his steadfast support. "I’ll return with haste."

As you turned to leave, the boy's eyes followed your every move, wide and contemplative. In the quiet aftermath of your promise, his gaze lingered on your retreating figure, a mix of newfound trust and lingering uncertainty playing across his features.  His eyes, filled with a depth that spoke of both fear and curiosity, seemed to hold a thousand unasked questions. 

As he watched you disappear into the crowd, there was a palpable sense of wonder about whether he could find his voice, not just to speak but to share his thoughts, fears, and perhaps his hidden stories. The boy was silently grappling with the idea of opening up, of letting someone else into his secluded world.

You, aware of his watchful eyes, felt a twinge of responsibility and hope. His silent scrutiny did not go unnoticed, and it reminded you of the delicate task ahead—not just protecting him from external dangers but also nurturing his trust and confidence to the point where he would feel safe to express himself. The boy's quiet contemplation as you walked away hinted at the significant role you would play in his life, potentially being the first to hear his voice when he finally chose to speak. 

As you melded with the festivities, the distance between you growing, you carried with you the weight of his unspoken thoughts, hoping that when you returned, the boy would be ready to break his silence, allowing you into his world. Until then, he shuts his eyes. He lets the sleep take him to the nether world, where nightmares still come to follow.

HIROMI THINKS THAT SLEEP WAS ALL THAT WOULD FIX THINGS. Hiromi returned to the heart of the festival, your task of reinforcing the protective barriers around the periphery completed. Your work, involving the meticulous weaving of energy to strengthen the existing magical defenses, had left you sharp and attuned to even the slightest disturbance. The process was arduous, as you needed to locate and neutralize any lingering curses that could threaten the festival's sanctity. Each of these encounters, a dance of skill and arcane prowess, tested not only your abilities but also your mental fortitude and resolve.

The challenges were varied, ranging from minor nuisances that were swiftly dealt with, to more stubborn, malignant energies that demanded all your focus and power to dispel. Yet, you managed each with precision and control, your extensive training and natural aptitude shining through. With every curse you unraveled and every barrier you chose to further fortify. As Akimu ensured the festival grounds remained a safe haven, you would do the same. This land must always be free from the influence of dark forces.

This vigilant defense was crucial, not only to protect the attendees but to maintain the balance of energies within the festival area. Any breach could lead to chaos, potentially unleashing harm on the unsuspecting revelers. Your successful fortification of the area thus served as an invisible shield, one that allowed the festival to continue in joyous celebration without the shadow of malevolent interference.

As the sky began to lighten with the approach of dawn, you continued that prideful vigilance, keeping a watchful eye on the worshippers gathered for the festival. Amidst the joyous celebrations, you remained ever alert, scanning the crowd for any signs of disturbance or danger. It was in the stillness of the early morning hours that you noticed a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

Despite the dim light of dawn, you sensed a presence nearby, a stirring of energy that caught all of your attention. Instinctively, you turned your gaze toward the source and saw the pink-haired boy, his eyes open and alert. You approached him quietly, your movements fluid and deliberate. You could sense that something had changed, that your encounter earlier had left an impression on him. With a gentle smile, you greeted him, your voice soft but reassuring.

"Good morning," you said, your tone warm with genuine concern. "How are you feeling?"

The boy's gaze flickered between curiosity and caution as he studied you, trying to parse the intentions behind your unexpected approach. Despite the swirl of doubt clouding his young mind, there was an undeniable sense of comfort that seemed to emanate from your presence—somewhat a stability in the tumultuous sea of his current experiences. Sensing his hesitation, you understood his reticence; after all, to him, you and uncle Hiramu were nothing more than strangers who had suddenly entered his life under unusual and likely frightening circumstances.

However, you sensed a deeper narrative woven into the fabric of the boy's aura, a story that extended beyond his current fear and confusion. You were determined to unearth the role he played in the festival's strange occurrences, driven by a conviction that his involvement was not merely coincidental. This was uncharted territory, a situation that neither you nor the festival had encountered before. Yet, you believed that new challenges were always opportunities for growth and understanding, reminders that there is always a "first time" for every occurrence in life.

Respecting his silence, you chose not to press him further for answers. You recognized that trust needed to be earned, especially in such delicate circumstances. It was then, in a moment of frailty, that the boy's strength seemed to falter, his body leaning as if he might collapse. Reacting swiftly, you stepped forward, kneeling to catch him, your movements guided by a blend of concern and readiness to support him.

As he rebounded slightly, stabilized by your quick intervention, he blinked up at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and bewilderment. In that brief exchange of looks, a silent understanding began to form. Your actions spoke louder than any words could have; they conveyed a promise of protection and empathy, laying the groundwork for a trust that might soon allow the boy to share his story and perhaps reveal the mysteries surrounding the events that had drawn you all together.

As you extended your hand toward him, he hesitated momentarily before his eyes blinked in a mix of confusion and curiosity. Observing his uncertainty, you offered him a tender smile, softening your expression to ease his apprehension.

"Are you alright, young one?" you asked, your voice low and soothing, cutting through the noise of the surrounding festivities.

In that moment, the boy found himself unexpectedly captivated by your presence. There was something almost ethereal about you, a radiance that seemed to emanate from within, casting a gentle, enchanting glow in the soft light of the festival’s lanterns—ones which still light up the dark morning glory. Your form appeared haloed by this light, lending you an otherworldly grace that was both comforting and awe-inspiring.

Your eyes, warm and inviting, seemed to draw him in further. They were deep pools of compassion and understanding, reaching out to him across the void of his own confusion and fear. As your eyes met, he felt a profound connection; it was as though you could see into the very depths of his soul, understanding his fears and yearnings without a word spoken.

The world around both of you seemed to pause, creating a bubble of serenity amidst the chaos. To the boy, this wasn’t just a simple meeting; it was a pivotal moment that would redefine his understanding of safety and hope. Even before he knew your name, Hiromi, he saw in you not just a protector or a higher power, but a guiding light, a beacon of hope illuminating his darkened world.

"What's your name?" you inquired gently, noticing his silence but undeterred by it.

When he remained mute, your smile broadened, radiating kindness and patience. "It’s okay if you have no name," you reassured him, your voice a soft anchor in his stormy sea of thoughts.

Upon hearing this, he looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of amazement and relief. Here was someone offering not just help, but a place and a presence in the world.

"I’ll give you one," you promised, a simple offer that nonetheless promised him a new beginning, a sense of identity and belonging that he had long craved. This simple gesture of naming was more than a label; it was a gift of a new life and a fresh start under your protective gaze.

You smile warmly at him, feeling the weight of the moment as you prepare to give him a name—a simple yet profound gift that could anchor him to a new beginning. When you smile at him, he thinks he found heaven. monsters like him do not deserve heaven. Yet the goddess you were, embraced him in the warmth of tender night. Names were important. In the family, it was.  Sensing the importance of the choice, you think carefully, choosing a name rich with strength and history. The family histories had such good names to choose from, you think.

"Would the name Ryomen Sukuna suffice for you?" you ask gently, observing his reaction to gauge whether it resonates with him. “Now that you are with us, you will gain two lives. The past and now the future. Will you accept it, little one?”

The boy looks up, his eyes widening slightly as he processes the name. It's clear he is unfamiliar with its origins or meanings, but there is an undeniable flicker of intrigue in his gaze. Ryomen Sukuna, a name that carries echoes of a mystic and power to it. Entirely opposite of what he had known. The boy, now Sukuna, thinks this could imbue him with a sense of might and courage, perhaps reflecting the new path he might choose to follow under your guidance. And then, maybe then, he can serve you. With this new name.

For a moment, he remains silent, contemplating the name, rolling it over in his mind. Then, slowly, a tentative smile begins to form on his lips. It seems to suit him, or at least, he is willing to step into the mantle it could offer.

"Ryomen Sukuna," he repeats softly, testing how the name feels as it comes out of his mouth. His voice is unsure at first, but with each repetition, he seems to grow more comfortable, more accepting of it.

Seeing his acceptance, your smile broadens. "Yes, Ryomen Sukuna," you confirm with a nod, affirming his new identity. "It’s a strong name, one that I believe can help guide you to become whoever you wish to be."

The boy nods, a sense of new identity beginning to settle within him. The name, though ancient, now starts a new chapter in his life, one filled with potential and promise. You extend your hand to him once more, this time as a gesture of warmth. A future worth looking forward to.

"Now, you must be hungry, Sukuna," you suggest warmly, ready to introduce him back into the celebration, not as an orphan lost amidst chaos but as a newly named participant with a protector by his side. “There’s still some stalls open. Some are not yet done with the festival. Do you want something to eat?”

He looks at you for a moment and then tenderly nods. As he takes your hand, his grip is firm, and his initial hesitance seems to wash away with the rising sun. Together, you walk back towards the heart of where the fullness of the festival had been, your steps synchronized. Ryomen Sukuna, newly named and newly empowered, walks beside you, no longer just a passive spectator but a young boy with a nascent but growing sense of belonging and purpose.

Your role as his protector, and now the giver of his name, has created a bond between you, one that promises not only safety but also a future filled with the potential for transformation. As you both step into the bustling festival, the early morning light casts long shadows, yet for Sukuna, illuminated by the glow of the lanterns and buoyed by your supportive presence, the world seems less intimidating.

You had given him a name, securing a place for him in this chaos—a gesture simple yet profound. This act forged a tentative bond, knitting a fragile sense of belonging into his young heart. And now, for the first time, he truly belonged somewhere. On this transformative night, his heart was full of nothing but hope. He had a name—a name that was uniquely his, one his mother had never given him.

As you walked side by side, he looked up at you with eyes shining with admiration. Sukuna adored his new name, not just for its sound or its meaning, but because it was a gift from you. It symbolized a new beginning, a sign of your faith in him. In that simple name, he found a deep sense of identity and purpose. He hoped beyond hope that this newfound connection would last.

Feeling the gravity of this moment, he tightened his grip on your hand. You looked down at him and smiled—a gesture that sealed his newfound faith in this bond. At that moment, Ryomen Sukuna felt as though he had been reborn. No longer just a boy lost in the festival's chaos, but a person with a role, a duty, and a place in the world. His life, from that moment forward, was to be lived for you, in devotion to the path you would guide him on. You had become his guardian, his mentor—his goddess—and he, in turn, devoted himself to be your loyal follower.

This rebirth was not just about a new name but a whole new existence shaped by the promise of guidance and protection under your watchful care. As the festival carried on around you, with its myriad lights and shadows, Sukuna walked confidently by your side, secure in his new identity and the journey ahead.

[ryo-sukuna]

ive heard you like your women untrimmed, is that true

MY CHILDREN ARE HERE DAMN IT

However, I will say this

When have you seen a deforested area or open plain with no growth and thought “Now that’s beautiful”

No- YOU GO TO THE JUNGLE- you go TO THE FOREST

It’s lush with life, it’s greenery thriving and you take in its natural beauty

It’s natural beauty, that will only ever be corrupted by man’s arrogant and selfish hand, actions and words.

Because foolish men find it as a nuisance or unappealing.

I’ve never seen a lively tree and said “Cut it down it’s hideous.”

[justanotherlifeff]

Love is meaningless

[True form heian era Sukuna x reader. I may have taken many creative liberties with his backstory alongside certain spoilers so be warned!]

Love is meaningless, this was something Sukuna believed for most of his life. He can proclaim it precisely because he understands it. Being born a wretched curse by his foolish starving mother was not a start to life he had appreciated, but it was what it was. Fate was that he absorbed his twin for nourishment, fate was that he was born monstrous. One can only live with fate and become stronger, after all. Of course, he had to raise himself, of course he had to get stronger to survive. The golden age of Jujutsu meant many other cursed spirits, and of course, humans were no better. Weak people shouldn’t complain about their transgressions after all. That is simply how the world is built, to please the strong.

Yet, unexpected things happen, as it is part of life as well. Some people find it in their stupid, human, hearts to love a monster. And sometimes, something as meaningless as love creeps up in a monster’s heart too if they are weak enough. Sukuna wasn’t born the king of curses after all. It was a meaningless gesture that one might call kindness, something he believed that he didn’t deserve, that started it all. Just like his mother who birthed him, this foolish girl gave him an apple from her basket when he was starving. A foolish act of kindness from a human to a cursed being. He accepted nonetheless, as a starving man would, since this was before the days when he took whatever he wanted.

The days when he was weak enough to be considerate. For some reason, you kept coming back, with food every time, and for some reason, he didn’t leave the outskirts of that village after the first few encounters. He convinced himself that it was because your cooking was amazing, not because he wanted to see that smile on your face again, not because he was getting addicted to that kindness. Why would a human be kind to the likes of him after all? Surely, he was being delusional. However, weeks turned to months, and you wouldn’t stop visiting the small cave where he was living at, since no one would give him shelter or a job due to his monstrous features. Somehow you weren’t afraid of the four arms, the four eyes, the odd markings on his body. Somehow, you made conversation with him at one point as you watched him eagerly eat whatever food you brought him and somehow, he found himself replying. Hope was something that the weak shouldn’t have and yet, he found it in you, he made that mistake.

Looking at water in streams was something he hated, because it showed him his inhumanity and made the struggles he faced his entire life be something that was acceptable. Who would care for a monster after all? And yet, one day, you looked at him and called him beautiful with a blush on your pretty little face. He didn’t know how to reply to that, as someone who never encountered a situation like that before and yet, he couldn’t sleep all night, thinking of those words. He awkwardly called you beautiful too the next day.

Small compliments turned into teasing and at one point, neither you nor he had to say it out loud that you loved each other. It was simply something that happened. However, you had to keep it a secret from the village, and he understood why. Loving something like him had its consequences as they would kill you for being with a curse. He understood the consequences but his hunger for you was far too much to ignore. It started with kisses, and then he wanted more, so much more. And you let him take what he wanted with a smile on your face, that same smile he fell in love with. Even your old kimonos started looking like ones that queens would wear, your simple hairpin was better than the highest quality jade to him. You were beautiful and you were his and that was the best thing that happened in his wretched life at the time. Or at least, he was foolish and weak enough to believe so.

During his days as the king of curses, he saw the women he fucked as no more than pieces of meat that exist for his pleasure. One might think he wasn’t capable of being gentle, of having any other expression than the ruthless and deranged smile that adorns his face. Yet, his first time was so different, as he looked upon your beauty with nothing but wonder in his eyes, not believing his own luck as you were naked underneath him, that beautiful tint of red adorning your face. Perhaps that was when he found himself loving the color red so much, it was never about the blood of the thousands he killed later in life. You looked beautiful even with your old kimonos, but you looked divine without it, and he wasn’t shy enough to keep that opinion to himself, mostly because he wanted to see that blush on your face when he says it out loud. He wanted to hear you call out his name in that affectionate and yet pleasured voice when he was deep inside you. He wanted you, all of you, even if he didn’t deserve you.

The weak gets trampled on, it isn’t something they should complain about as it is the way of life. He almost had you, the day you came to him with a worried expression on your face and told him that you may be expecting his child. For a moment, he dreamed, despite being weak. He asked you to elope with him, that he would protect you. He knew that the child he sired would be cursed too, and that you were unmarried, so of course, overall, you would be killed if he left you alone. He loved you far too much to even consider that. “Come with me, Ill take you far from here and protect you. I’ll make sure nothing hurts you or our child. I’ll get stronger for you.” He told you with that gruff tone of his. To his surprise, you agreed. However, you were a kind little thing full of hope. You wanted to see your parents one last time before leaving with him forever. He didn’t understand it, but he wanted you to be happy, so he suggested making a binding vow. A part of him felt wary as all these felt too good to be true.

The vow was simple, it was to live as long as you can. He was still new to forming binding vows, so he forgot to acknowledge the fact that breaking the vow didn’t mean much if someone else killed you. Only that your death would be far more painful. Things were peaceful, too peaceful. He ate the food you cooked him, talked with you about a future together, looked at the sun set together. Like every day, you left him after that with a kiss on his cheek. Yet, he felt uneasy enough to sneak near the village that night after hearing the commotion.

It didn’t take long to find you, as you were right there, in the middle of the village square, or at least your severed head was. The blood splattered everywhere indicated the effects of the binding vow, your entire body exploded when your head was cut. Perhaps you were weak and ended up telling your parents, perhaps somehow, they found out that you were pregnant with his child, he would never know. That village burned that night and not a single person there survived. As he stood there, watching whatever was left of you burn with the village, it was almost as if he achieved enlightenment. The weak shouldn’t complain, so he wasn’t complaining. He would get stronger so that he would be the one taking, to fill the void that was created this day. His hunger was endless because he would never eat the food you cook again. Love is meaningless, because without you, this world lost its meaning.

[yoonluve]

YUJI VS SUKUNA

#jjk257

[thecuriousquest]

The King of Curses and His Concubine

Trigger Warning: NSFW, heavy yandere themes, dominant behavior, ass play, spitting kink, ass fucking, dub con, concubine, mentions of murder, psychological control

@murderofravens

—————————————————————————

Sukuna pulls you over his knee. You think you’re about to get a spanking. You don’t necessarily like it when he does punish you in this way, especially since you haven’t done anything to deserve it. However, you’re more than surprised when he grabs the fat of your cheeks and pulls them apart. His gaze lingers on your fluttering hole. You can’t see the smile on his face, the predatory smirk full of sadistic satisfaction. Even more, you can feel his hard cock poking your stomach as you lay bent over his lap.

You hear him swirling something in his mouth, can tell his tongue is moving with the motion, amplifying the sound. You look over your shoulder just in time to see his mouth form the shape of an O. You watch the saliva shoot forth from his lips as it coats your asshole, seeping into it slowly.

The lines on his face contort into a feral and sloppy grin as he plunges two fingers deep inside of you. In and out. In and out. Fast, then slow. Fast again, slow again, faster and faster as he targets your sensitive walls. He spreads his fingers in the shape of a V while keeping them inserted inside of you.

Oh, you’re a writhing mess over his lap. You can’t stand it. His beefy fingers, his strong hand pumping between your cheeks. You were scared at first, but now you’re about to come repeatedly.

And you do. You orgasm on his lap over and over again. He is completely taking control of your overstimulation, not even giving you an inch of room to plead for anything. Even if you could talk, which he took great measures to get you to a point of brain fog, you wouldn’t ask for him to stop.

Incoherent babbling is all you’re capable of now as your tongue hangs out of your mouth while you go limp over his sturdy thigh. You come one last time, all nice and sloppily wet for him, drool and tears of pleasure pooling and mixing together on the wooden floor beneath you.

With two of his four arms, he picks you up. Your body moving with his will as you’re too exhausted to resist. You’re so docile, so compliant, such a good girl. He moves you on his lap, your back to his chest. Sukuna uses his other two hands to spread your thighs widely. His hard cock lines up with the edge of your asshole, nestled nicely between your cheeks. His spit and pre acting as a lubricant.

Sukuna pushes your body down roughly, and you cry out. You don’t even have to do any work. He enjoys bouncing your body on his cock. You’re all under his control. You just have to comply and try not to move as much as possible. Like a large train trying to fit through a small tunnel, his cock fills you up completely. You look down and watch as Sukuna brings the hand that was holding your left thigh up to your puffy little clit.

You can’t help but let your head fall back against his shoulder. He’s pushing you into yet another orgasm. You can feel it as the rough pad of his large pointer and middle finger circle and swirl on the little button of nerves.

“Good whores deserve all sorts of rewards, my cock being one of them,” he whispers in your ear, his voice sultry and powerful, even the softness in which he speaks right now is still filled with authority.

“M…m…mas…ter!”

“You can’t even say it. Pathetic. You really are just a sloppy, submissive little slut. It’s a good thing you’re pretty, because you really don’t have much in that head of yours.”

He laughs as he induces another orgasm while he pumps your ass with his thick and veiny erection.

You feel him fill you up, and as goes flaccid, he decides to hold you closely; two arms wrapped beneath your breasts, and two arms hugging your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder while you lean back against him, panting and sweaty, thoroughly exhausted.

“You really are the best one out of all of them. Maybe, I should kill the others and just have you,” he says more to himself as he brushes your nipple with his thumb.

You hear him, but you don’t dare say anything. Sukuna has always been kinder to you because you are his favorite concubine, but he is still a cruel master. You always keep this in mind, never letting your guard down around him just because he can be so fickle.

“Would you like that, Y/N? Would that please you?”

You only let the silence hang between you two as you formulate the correct response.

“If it makes you happy, Master…then it makes me happy as well.”

And if you are responsible for the death of those twenty-five girls, then so be it. You know better than to give any other kind of response to Sukuna by now. By the many, many excruciating lessons he has taught you before, you damn well know better by now…

[damnatiomemoriae13]

I do a little writing too, I humbly offer you all a lil teaser from the fic I got in the works. I found the idea of the hungry and horny impulses getting a little muddled for him amusing and couldn't resist working it in. <warning for suggestive content, not quite smut part of the prelude>

o0o

“Give yourself to me.”

It was neither a command nor a request, but somewhere in between. She blinked, four arms reaching out and pulling her in. Two hands gripped her hips, guiding her forward until she stood practically in his lap. He buried his face in her neck, nose grazing her skin as he drew in a languid breath, taking in her scent. The sting of the salt of the surf was softened by the aroma of floral perfume oils and tea leaves, lingering in her hair with something warm beneath like sunshine on a summer's day. Lips pressed to the thin skin over the column of her throat, feeling the quiet breath she sucked in. He’d considered taking her before, the temptation and desire to consume her in every sense of the word a tantalizing prospect. But something within him remained indecisive. The supple softness of her flesh in his hands made his mouth water and his cocks twitch, but he was torn between two separate compulsions. He wanted to devour her. Wanted to taste her; her skin, blood, muscle, sweat, tears. The distinction between the two impulses was muddled. He no longer had the patience to sort out which was more compelling, choosing to start with one and see where it would lead. His upper hands slowly untied her obi, face remaining nuzzled in her neck as he lazily placed kiss after kiss, feeling her pulse racing with every gentle caress. Thin hands came to rest against his collarbones, but didn’t push away. Already he could feel the heat rising across her skin.

“Spend the night with me.” He urged, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye, azure hues bearing an intensity and hunger she’d yet to see.

Her heart skipped a beat, so entranced that she almost failed to notice the sudden slack in her obi. Before she could respond he was loosening it until the coils pooled at her feet in a heap. “W-Wait,” It wasn’t that she didn’t like the idea of where things were going, but she feared she wouldn’t live up to expectations. “I don’t know if we should…” 

He paused, thumbs rubbing slow circles across the front of her hips, pleased at the subtle shift in the way she stood, thighs pressing together at the proximity and stimulation. “Are you afraid?” He asked, upper hands brushing the hair over her shoulders and nudging the neckline of her kimono lower. 

The nerves made her dizzy and her stomach flipped. No, she wasn’t afraid of him. Daunted? Most definitely, but not afraid. “No…” His warmth against her palms was steadying and she focused on it to ground herself. “I only worry that I may disappoint. Surely you could choose someone better to spend your evening with?” It pained her somewhat to make the suggestion, but the fear of letting him down was greater than her desire. 

He let out a low chuckle, a twinge of malice dancing mirthfully in his eyes. “Your only fear is of not being able to satisfy?” He smirked, “What a foolish woman. Have you no sense of self preservation?” 

Her face flushed, burning with embarrassment. Brow furrowed, her expression bordered on a pout. “I trust you.” She insisted stubbornly, a stunning sincerity in silver hues as she held his gaze. 

An astounded cackle rumbled forth from him at her admission. “Foolish and obstinate.” Nearly grinning, he hummed in mock consideration, thoroughly amused. His thumbs ceased their motions, squeezing her hips lightly as he leaned closer. “You should be more careful who you trust, little asobi.”

[pinknipszz]

heian era sukuna

(a/n: takes place in the same universe as this post; yet another thinly veiled uraume/reader imagine)

on the first day of spring—your favorite of all seasons—you awake to a pleasant surprise in the horigotatsu of your room: a big basket of flowers, all fresh and neatly trimmed. you struggle to swallow the squeal that’s bubbling in your throat. 

when uraume comes to style your hair (a morning habit of theirs), they find you cradling it close to your chest as you would a baby. “come and look at what my husband left me,” you say, beckoning them over with a flick of your wrist. they settle their boxwood comb on the edge of your vanity and approach to take hold of your basket.

they squint, turning it this way and that (for a little longer than necessary, just to humor you), before nodding firmly in approval. “the flowers are beautiful this year,” they say. “as expected of lord sukuna.” your face beams with delight, like a rose in full bloom, as you stroke each petal with delicate fingers. 

with infectious charm, you swoon, “he gives me the prettiest flowers!” in between your sweet babbles, uraume ushers you to sit near the vanity so they can detangle any knots that accumulated overnight. as they brush through your hair, they remain silent, but you know that these things will eventually reach your husband.

for now, though, they focus on the task at hand. you like it when uraume fixes your hair. there’s a kindness in their movements that’s nearly unbefitting of their disposition, warm enough to melt any leftover frost. it almost reminds you of spring. perhaps the resemblance is why he orders them to keep you company.

with cherry dusted cheeks, you look down at the arrangement in your arms. there’s simply no other answer. no room for doubt in your husband’s impeccable judgment. for a creature living by a standard so unattainable to any man, there’s something so achingly mortal in the way that love oozes from every crack in his soul.

uraume is like the flowers that he leaves on the first day of spring, except they last for eternity.

(masterlist) | (a/n: third part might actually have sukuna dialogue w talks of pregnancy bc i want to try a thing)

[satorusugurugurl]

Soo Best Friend!Suguru is in the works! It will be posted in Saturdays once Escort!Gojo is done!

But now I'm thinking. . .Nanami series next or Sukuna? 👀

Nanami maybe OBGYN provider and Pregnant!R either widowed or BF ran out on her. Or PR manager Nanami and Streamer!Reader.

Sukuna Modern AU: we see the closet scene, watch the two grow close, see big brother Sukuna in action. (Tattoo Artist!Sukuna/Nurse!Reader)

[artisticcannibal]

~Satoru Gojo as your best friend would include:

Although it wasn't really what you wanted to do, you were stuck being friends with Gojo. He said if you don't be friends' with him then he would daily disturb you and yes he did, you were driven to the highest level of annoyance from his constant teasing, irritating you, and infuriating you.

Gojo sometimes can be creepy too. "How did the noodles taste like, last night, idiot?" After all, how did he find out what you were eating on your bed at 8:50 p.m. yesterday night?

He doesn't even hide the fact how possessive or obsessive he is for you.

Insults are a love language for you both. There isn't a day that goes where you both don't threaten to kill one other.

Bunking class together and creeping around the local park, listening to music, messing around, and talking about random topics while munching on chips is your and his favorite thing to do.

Sometimes in the evenings, he will take you to his favorite location by the river and just express how grateful he is to have you, even though he had just called you an idiot five times before.

He would hold your hand and put his head on your shoulder and just doze off to sleep while talking to you. He just looked too admirable when he would sleep.

You both would be assigned for missions together and you both would make the best team anyone has ever seen.

He has never felt safer or more secure in his life than when he is around you. This trust and love he has for you is just unexplainable.

Gojo would just be overly concerned for you; one day you didn't show up to school, and Gojo became anxious imagining all the scenarios that may happen, such as you being sick, having an accident, an encounter with a cursed spirit,or doing something dumb that got you in trouble. Gojo would sneak out of class and rush to your house on the guise of needing to use the restroom. "Y/N??? Why didn't you attend school today?"

At the end of the day, Gojo would remind you how much you really mean to him. He loves you and you love him too. There isn't a day where you both can't live without each other. It's like you both are the source of life for one another. Inseparable.

This is my first fanfiction for Jjk. Please forgive me if any mistake arise.

[daeydream]

a/n: he 'so fine oh my gosh but i hope u enjoy this drabble yay! (๑♡⌓♡๑)

"when you look at the stars, do you see me?"

"what?"

turning to you with a hidden look of confusion on his pretty face, sukuna watches as you turn towards him with your other hand gesturing to the sky.

"when you look at the stars, do you see me?"

he looked at the stars.

"....no."

"oh."

"why?"

gazing at the stars, you felt a peaceful, almost calm silence pass over the two of you. Just you and him, him and you, staring at the beautiful sky.

"i thought you said i was the prettiest thing in the world.

sukuna scoffed and turned to look at you, his red eyes roving over your face, savouring the little pout now on your lips.

he leaned forward and with one large hand, he tilted your chin up so that you could look at him directly in the eyes.

"you are the prettiest thing in the world."

"but what about the stars? they're pretty too."

he hummed, before leaning down to steal your lips with his, relishing the sweet taste of your lips. No matter how many kisses you press to his wicked lips, or how many he steals from you, he always craves the feel of your mouth against his.

"No. I already told you, you are the prettiest thing in the world."

"Prettier than the stars themselves?"

He paused, smirking as he caught your hand firmly after feeling a small smack on his chest, before locking eyes with you.

"prettier than the stars themselves."

DAEYDREAM 2024 ©