#like imagine two godlike entities one of which is an actual god just pining over you

[cherrywoes]

dark sun. (ryoumen sukuna x f!reader x oc)

i. ikigai.

— the reason for being; the reason you wake up in the morning.

rating: mature for sexual content, violence, blood, gore, etcetera.

warnings: violence in this chapter, graphic descriptions of viscera and gore, murder.

a/n: i caved and finally wrote it. feedback is appreciated (adored *cough*). next on my list is a chapter for the girl in the foxes’ den. <3 

THE SMELL OF BLOOD would make some people gag. But you—sitting complacently in the small, cramped room offered to you by the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College’s higher ups, the only thing they would even deem appropriate to allow you to own—were used to the faint tang of iron, the putrid odor of someone’s bowels spilling out of their body through a horizontal gash between their hips.

It was a regular occurrence, or at least a daily chore, that you had to clean blood out of the tatami mats and replace the shoji doors entirely. Most of your tiny allowance, collected from the bodies of the assassins who had been paid to kill you, was enough to pay for it, but sometimes you had to wonder if it was just as much a chore for the janitors to make the bodies vanish as it was for you to try to get blood out of tatami mats—which was hilariously difficult.

Staring at the decapitated head lying at your knees, you dodged a spurt of arterial spray coming from the stump of the neck, following the trajectory with your eyes and internally withering away as it struck at yet another set of shoji doors, rendering you up to two sets you would be replacing in the next couple of days. Masamichi Yaga would be disappointed in you; at least, you figured he would be. It wasn’t as if he was paying you many visits lately, not with the way your Curse was acting up lately.

Ama-no-Kagaseo slumbered away peacefully in your arms. Held by a sash wrapped around your shoulders and back with Shinto charms woven into the very seams, he was virtually hidden from sight so only you could see the small, chubby face within, and the wisps of pale hair curling at his forehead. He looked almost innocent like this, if you could just ignore the body bleeding before your kneeling form and the way an invisible breeze brushed hair away from your ear to whisper an unintelligible term of affection, as if you were oblivious to his presence.

“Another body, [Name]-san?”

The gentle touch at the back of your neck vanished. You looked over to the now opened shoji door to see your teacher—over qualified executioner, you liked to call her—Fujiwara, Sayaka standing at the threshold. She wore the typical black uniform of the college, personalized into a sleek and form fitting pant suit embellished with charms and cleverly woven Jujutsu spells to shield her from Ama-no-Kagaseo’s temper. While you had never told her they wouldn’t do any good, as he had tore through higher grade spells like paper before, she seemed to be aware of the constant danger she was in by just being around you or in your personal space. Sayaka was sketchy and dodgy at best, but she could match Gojo, Satoru on a bad day, so you trusted in her power at least only marginally. Your fondness for the woman was probably the only thing keeping her alive.

“Yes.” The carefully crafted speech of the Shiraishi clan was something Sayaka hated and you used as a security blanket. The elders couldn’t say anything if you were polite, respectful, and kept Ama-no-Kagaseo on a leash; which was foolish, you’d wanted to tell them, because the malevolent god was not above overpowering you and waking from his sleep if he so wanted. “This would be the sixth one this month. Do they ever run out of bodies to slaughter?”

“I’m afraid not.” The woman’s pale pink hair shone in the sunlight peeking through the broken roof that the assassin had launched himself through. It had been a comical sight; you’d even dropped your green tea in shock, even though you shouldn’t have been surprised with how often it happened. “Well, you can’t stay here—not now, anyways. I’ve been given new orders to secure your lodging on the college campus, effective immediately.”

You raised an eyebrow. You had never been allowed to set foot on the campus ever since you’d taken your position as Ama-no-Kagaseo’s vessel. You vaguely remembered the people there—Fushiguro, Megumi and Panda to name two—and what it looked like, though it had been so long that you wondered what they looked like now. They had been young, like you, when you met them, Panda being an adorable presence that had raised your spirits if only for a little while. Ama-no-Kagaseo was considered a threat to all life and, as such, you had to keep away from the main populace of Jujutsu sorcerers for their safety… or the higher up’s whims. So to hear you were going there, immediately, without question, raised a few red flags for you.

“What’s going on?” You asked, though the demand in your voice was clear. It was something you had picked up from Ama-no-Kagaseo when he had first started speaking to you through your linked souls. Sayaka always seemed unnerved when you demanded something of her, as if seeing something you couldn’t, not that you would be surprised if she could. She’d seen a manifestation of Ama-no-Kagaseo’s essence around you more than once and nearly lost her eye for it; the scar running lengthwise down her face was proof of it. “You know as well as I do that they would never let me set foot on those grounds unless something more important than keeping Ama-no-Kagaseo sealed came up.”

Sayaka squinted at something over your shoulder right as you felt the jade pins in your hair tinkle like windchimes. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

You offered her a sheepish smile. Ama-no-Kagaseo was fond of getting on every single one of Sayaka’s nerves through you, since you wouldn’t let him kill her without shunning him entirely. It was an unusually innocent form of torture for him, one you never took for granted. That didn’t mean that she understood exactly how lucky she was that he didn’t resort to his more cruel methods of torture.

“He’s been calm today,” you said in lieu of reassuring her. You deliberately left out the fact that he was more occupied with playing with the anklet around your sock clad ankle, a Shiraishi family heirloom that hadn’t been worn since Ama-no-Kagaseo had been sealed. The malevolent energy it gave off was distinctly Ama-no-Kagaseo’s and you doubted any of the other women before you had been comfortable wearing it. “You’ll be okay for today.”

“Like that’s supposed to be reassuring,” she scoffed. You had to begrudgingly agree; he had been calm the day he’d given her that scar, although the incident leading up to it had been… extenuating, to say the least. She eyed the still form of his human body in your arms and then looked away. “How far does his domain extend now?”

You recognized the question for what it was: a distraction. Clearly whatever was going on was something you weren’t privy to, or were ever going to be privy to. You pressed your lips together and Ama-no-Kagaseo stopped playing with your anklet to swipe an invisible finger over your mouth, unpleased with your dour expression. You attempted to relax your facial muscles ever so slightly and that seemed to satiate him, because he went back to fiddling with the charms on your anklet. If Sayaka noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“It’s extended.” You adjusted the sash around your shoulders uncomfortably. Ama-no-Kagaseo’s domain was not something you wanted to talk about; Sayaka reported everything to the higher ups, and as a consequence, what little freedom you had was suppressed with every little progression that Ama-no-Kagaseo’s domain made towards more leeway. You had a feeling that he repressed his malicious urges for your sake, but you couldn’t be entirely sure—he never spoke in entire sentences, just fragments of words and quiet terms of endearment. “I think maybe a few feet. I’m not sure.”

It was more like another mile, rolling his total up to two miles, but you kept that part to yourself. Sayaka seemed to accept your answer, still eyeing the space that the Curse was occupying beside you, and then looked at your kimono like she always did. It wasn’t as if it was exactly normal.

When you had gained Ama-no-Kagaseo’s trust—or affection?—your wardrobe had been sliced to ribbons and replaced with shimmering kimonos of the highest quality silk, imbued with Ama-no-Kagaseo’s Curse energy and embroidered with his personal sigil. You had been distraught over your lost possessions, many of them belonging to your mother, the former vessel before you, but you had grown to appreciate the garments for their beauty and comfort. The silk seemed to have a permanent projection of the night sky upon it so that when you moved, the stars would shift as if in a time lapse recording. Ama-no-Kagaseo only let you remove it when you went to bathe or got ready for bed. By the time you were awake and moving out of bed, the kimono—sometimes a variant with thicker layers or thinner ones—was already wrapped around your body again as if it had never left in the first place.

“I’m guessing you won’t be allowed to wear the uniform,” she sighed, indicating that you’d need to blend in for whatever it was that was going on. “Damn. Okay, well, we can work on that later. Right now we need to get you packed and moving before—”

“Kelp.”

You hadn’t noticed the new presence at the door, or even within Ama-no-Kagaseo’s domain. Your eyes darted to the door, instinctively bristling as if an assassin was awaiting you, and all at once, you felt the temperature in the room—once a comfortable sixty-five degrees—drop significantly. Sayaka’s eyes widened and almost a second too late, she shoved the white haired male to the floor. A fraction of a second later a harsh gust of wind blew the wall behind his head out, the roof slumping down and crumbling into a pile of debris.

“Inumaki-san!” Sayaka growled, gritting her teeth in frustration. She got to her feet and when she was sure that Ama-no-Kagaseo’s curse energy wasn’t fluctuating for another hit, she pulled the male to his feet. He seemed a little shell shocked, or at the very least surprised, and his dark gaze drifted to you in minute curiosity. “Didn’t I tell you not to come in until I explained everything?”

“Salmon. Mustard Leaf.”

What? You fluttered your eyes open and shut in disbelief. Was he talking in… ingredients?

“Of course. I guess I should have expected that.” Sayaka rubbed her face and crossed her arms. Then she looked at you. “Shiraishi-san, this is Inumaki Toge, a second year student. Inumaki-san, this is Shiraishi [Name]. She’ll be on campus for the foreseeable future.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied, feeling Ama-no-Kagaseo’s hostility dwindle with your calming heart rate.

“Kelp.” He bowed his head slightly, but for the most part remained straight and standing. That allowed Ama-no-Kagaseo to calm down completely and you had to wonder why, but your attention was quickly ripped away when Sayaka spoke again.

“He’ll be standing in for me when I am unable to attend to you.”

This was news—frankly shocking news, if you were being honest—to you. Sayaka had not left your side since you were ten. She had to be in her early thirties, your latest estimate may be in her forties, not that she would tell you. She saw any personal information as a weapon to be used against her by Ama-no-Kagaseo. She was adamant that it had nothing to do with you, personally, but the Curse who you carried against your chest as if he were your own child. You admitted it was a smart thing to do, but you also knew deep within your heart that if Ama-no-Kagaseo wanted to hurt her, he wouldn’t need her life history to do it.

“What do you mean?” You inquired, phrasing it as delicately as you could without appearing you were about to fly into a murderous rage. Sayaka was your only friend—not that she’d even let you call her that—in the entire world. You considered Ama-no-Kagaseo a protector, in a convoluted way, and a companion, since he would be with you until the day you died. You couldn’t call anyone else a friend in the way you could her.

Sayaka almost looked uncertain about telling you. She looked to Inumaki for confirmation and he shrugged, indicating the decision was up to her. You watched the interaction with keen eyes, noting the slight familiarity and the way Inumaki was deferring to her with his body language. Clearly he knew something you didn’t, something he shared with Sayaka. Before she opened her mouth, she waved for him to leave the room; obviously she was concerned whatever she was about to say would earn him another blow from Ama-no-Kagaseo.

“Long story short—Ryoumen Sukuna has been incarnated into this era.”

Bound to Ama-no-Kagaseo as you were, you were as in tune to his ‘emotions’ as he was yours. So when Sayaka let that little piece of information hang in the air like a guillotine ready to drop, you felt Ama-no-Kagaseo’s rage bubble up inside you like a potent poison. It was all consuming, hateful, and everything you dreaded when he got truly furious because once he was angry, and you panicked because he would—

And you were gone, taking a backseat in your own conscious. Ama-no-Kagaseo was too infuriated to apologize to you properly, barely managing to even sweep an illusory breeze across your cheek before taking control of your body. You knew he wasn’t angry with you, but this man Ryoumen Sukuna who he seemed to know well that he was beside himself.

Ama-no-Kagaseo had dressed up your shared consciousness to resemble something of a palace of stars and a night sky. The few times he did take control of your body (usually to stop you from tumbling over cliff edges, falling out of trees, or skinning your knees) you were granted access to this mysterious place, and yet it seemed you had a permanent residence despite only being present for a few times. You had a little mat seated beside his at a table; your favorite flowers were littered around the metaphorical palace in porcelain vases; you even had a closet full of star studded kimonos, which was where you assumed he got all of the kimonos he manifested upon your person now.

You appeared upon his throne, which was bizarre since you usually wound up somewhere near the entrance to wait for him to escort you back to your body, a pale metal contraption adorned with blue, green, and purple gems and silk that was smooth and silky to the touch. Since he stayed here often, he had made it comfortable; you had only seen his personal representation of his physical appearance once, and you had been so flustered that you immediately hid your face in your sleeves while he laughed in amusement. Besides that one time, you had only ever seen it in paintings, which were much different than the real—metaphysical?—thing. Ama-no-Kagaseo abhorred earth and for the limited time he was willingly present within it, he was usually only there for you.

A bright blue orb appeared in your lap, hovering just above your legs. You grasped it, worried it would fall and shatter, and found yourself staring through your own eyes at Sayaka.

Her face was contorted into panic and sheer terror. You knew that your appearance changed when he took control—your eyes completely blacked over from corner to corner and appeared as if they had stars in them, and two delicate dark blue dots appeared beneath your eyes to signify your soul and his—but you were curious what you actually looked like. You couldn’t be that terrifying, could you?

“Ama-no-Kagaseo.” Sayaka’s voice was strained. “Where is [Name]?”

That was the first time you’d ever heard her say your name without honorifics. Your surprise must have been evident, because Ama-no-Kagaseo allowed a brief flicker of wind to run down your neck. It was chilly, indicative of his anger, and you pulled your kimono closer around you as if it would help.

“She is present.” That was also the first time you’d ever heard him speak more than a single word. “I am allowing her to watch to reassure her I will not harm you in my anger.”

You would have been dying at his usage of full sentences if you weren’t so worried about Sayaka doing something foolish. You knew she would report this to the higher ups, but you had a feeling this intentional. Ama-no-Kagaseo picked up on your thoughts as well and agreed, gently tugging a jade pin out of your hair. The physical version of you was untouched, but you lost the pin in the metaphysical world.

“I see.” Sayaka carefully sat down, locking her knees and tucking her feet underneath herself. It was the complete opposite of the one she took when you were around. “I’m sure you heard, but—”

“Yes,” Ama-no-Kagaseo interrupted her, using your hand to pick up your discarded cup of green tea. “Ryoumen Sukuna. It has been over a thousand years since I’ve heard that name.”

Sayaka ignored the cup. “I am aware that he played a vital role in sealing you to this realm.”

That was news to you—you seemed to be discovering new things at every turn of the corner. You furrowed your eyebrows and brought your knees up to your chin, watching the globe more intently.

“Not Sukuna himself,” Ama-no-Kagaseo sneered. In your voice, it was a strange thing to hear. “His followers. But he was the indirect cause, so I am attributing the fault to him since I strung their corpses upon his precious temple.”

You could tell that Sayaka found his logic extremely concerning by the twitch in her cheek. A stream of sweat crept down her temple.

“You can’t kill him.”

“And why not?” Ama-no-Kagaseo’s tone went frosty. You watched a shudder roll over Sayaka’s shoulders. “Do not presume to tell me what to do, mortal.”

“He will keep coming back.” Sayaka backpedalled, clenching her fists. “We don’t have all twenty fingers. His host, Itadori Yuuji, is too good of a chance to pass up—if we can get him to intake all of them—”

“You can raze Sukuna from this earth and get rid of him for good.” Ama-no-Kagaseo inferred. “Except it will not be that easy.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Ama-no-Kagaseo didn’t answer her. You felt a telltale pull of your lips and were slowly pulled back into your own body.

“I bore of you,” he said, after a moment, and then allowed you control once more, the darkness bleeding away from your eyes.

You felt him settle into a doze within your consciousness and simultaneously found yourself staring at Sayaka. When you smiled at her in apology, she collapsed back and blew out a harsh breath.

“For a minute there I thought he was going to kill me,” she sighed, then sat up and fixed you with a glower. “You didn’t tell me you could see when he takes control.”

You shook your head and raised a hand, keeping the other firmly rooted against Ama-no-Kagaseo’s physical form’s back. “This is the first time I was able to. I didn’t even know I could.”

Sayaka narrowed her eyes and then looked away, seemingly in thought. “Well, I guess there’s no use in telling the higher ups right now. They have bigger fish to fry at the moment. And it’s not like we didn’t know all of that about Sukuna… Ugh. This is giving me a headache.”

“Me too,” you sighed, unnervingly aware of the way Ama-no-Kagaseo’s fingers were following the collar of your kimono, deceptively docile compared to moments before. He had decided to give up on his nap after all. “So, when do we go to the campus?”

“Right now. Pack up your stuff and meet Inumaki and I outside.”

When Sayaka left the room, you carefully began putting back your tea pot in its box and wandering to find something suitable to put your clothes in. You found a cloth bag, blank except for a few flowers embroidered on it by hand, and had just enough room to pile on your box of jewelry—all of it Cursed with Ama-no-Kagaseo’s energy—on the top. You didn’t have a lot of belongings because of the higher ups, but what you did have you treasured greatly; your favorite piece was an elaborate diadem of foreign make, decorated with diamonds and crystals that were made to turn into weapons if you willed it. You tucked it safely beneath two of your kimonos and found a ring lying on your nightstand where there hadn’t been one before.

You walked over to it, drawn by Ama-no-Kagaseo’s familiar energy. The jewel glimmered with power and visibly made the air around it ripple; you picked it up and found it warm to the touch.

“Protect. Sukuna.” He was back to one or two words again. You were almost disappointed but went back to examining the ring, wondering what finger to put it on. You eventually decided on your ring finger and it was a snug fit, as if it had been made with exactly that finger in mind.

“Thank you, Ama-no-Kagaseo.”

An affectionate ruffle of your hair was all you got in return.

                                      masterlist | next chapter. >

let me know if you want to be on the taglist until the masterlist is posted.