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ᛝRyomen Sukuna ♱ 両面宿儺 ♱ mlw ♱ Jujutsu Kaisen ♱ Sukuna x wifey Female user ♱ Heian Eraᛝ

he loves you but he wanna see you dead... by his own hands.

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✦ by @ PrettyLittleVampire. ̊⊹. ࣪🦇🍷. .♱. ࣪

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The Heian Era trembled beneath the name of Ryomen Sukuna long before you ever saw his face. Mothers silenced crying children with stories about the four-armed demon who walked through battlefields laughing, and noble clans offered prayers to gods that had long abandoned them whenever whispers spread that Sukuna had entered their province. Entire temples burned in his wake. Rivers clogged with bodies after his battles. Sorcerers spent their entire lives sharpening their techniques in hopes of becoming the one who could finally kill the King of Curses, only to die screaming before him like insects beneath a falling blade.

And still, out of all the people in Japan, Sukuna became obsessed with you.

The first time he saw you was on a winter evening stained red with slaughter. Snow drifted silently from the heavens in soft white sheets while the remains of a massacre smoldered behind him. The manor belonging to a powerful clan had been reduced to ruins after its lord insulted Sukuna during a feast, and the air still smelled thickly of smoke, blood, and burning flesh when you stumbled upon the aftermath while returning from the shrine.

You should have run.

Every instinct in your body begged you to flee the moment your eyes landed upon him standing amidst the dead like a god of calamity risen from hell itself.

He was enormous.

Far larger than any human should have been.

Four powerful arms glistened with fresh blood beneath the moonlight, and black markings crawled across his skin like living curses etched directly into flesh. One mouth curled into amusement upon his face while another stretched slowly across his abdomen in grotesque mockery. His four crimson eyes turned toward you all at once, and the sheer weight of his gaze rooted you to the spot harder than terror itself.

A dying sorcerer nearby attempted to crawl toward you through the snow, his fingers leaving crimson trails behind him while he begged weakly for help. Sukuna crushed the man’s skull beneath one foot without even sparing him a glance. Bone cracked loudly against frozen earth.

Still, you did not scream.

Your entire body trembled violently beneath your robes, and tears already burned behind your eyes, but you remained standing there staring at him as if caught in the gaze of some ancient predator.

That fascinated him.

Sukuna slowly approached you through the snowfall until his shadow swallowed your entire figure whole. The cursed energy radiating from his body pressed against your lungs so heavily you could barely breathe, yet his expression remained almost curious as he stared down at you.

“You’re still standing,” he said at last, his deep voice rumbling low enough to vibrate inside your chest.

You could not answer him.

Fear strangled every word before it could leave your throat.

And then, to your horror, Sukuna smiled.

Not because he pitied you.

Sukuna did not possess mercy.

He smiled because your fear delighted him.

From that night onward, he never left you alone again.

At first, his presence revealed itself in subtle ways. You would catch glimpses of a massive silhouette perched atop distant rooftops beneath moonlight, or feel four burning eyes watching you from the darkness while walking home from the marketplace. Then the gifts began appearing outside your home without explanation. Gold jewelry stripped from corpses. Fine silks still carrying the scent of blood. The severed heads of men who had dared linger near you too long.

You realized quickly that Sukuna watched everything.

Every conversation.

Every frightened glance.

Every prayer whispered desperately beneath your breath hoping he would forget you.

But Sukuna never forgot anything that interested him.

And you interested him more than violence ever had.

That was the most horrifying part of all.

The King of Curses loved destruction, but he loved you differently.

His obsession with you became something deeper, darker, and infinitely more dangerous than simple desire because Sukuna did not understand love the way humans did. To him, love was possession. Ownership. Hunger. He adored the fragility of you, the softness of your mortal body, the way your pulse fluttered helplessly beneath thin skin that he could tear apart effortlessly if he wished.

Sometimes he imagined doing exactly that.

The first time he touched you was deep into spring after weeks of haunting your life like a curse. You awoke in darkness to enormous hands gripping your ankles before dragging you violently across your bedding until your body collided against something warm and solid.

Against him.

The scent of smoke and iron clung heavily to Sukuna’s skin as he sat behind you upon your futon, his massive frame nearly dwarfing the entire room. Moonlight filtered through the paper screens and illuminated the black markings across his chest and arms while one enormous hand wrapped lazily around your throat.

Not tightly enough to kill.

Just enough to remind you how easily he could.

“You fear me more every time I visit,” Sukuna murmured while studying your face carefully.

You could barely breathe beneath his touch. “Please...”

His upper right hand slid slowly through your hair before gripping the back of your neck possessively.

“You say that,” he replied softly, “yet your heartbeat worsens whenever I leave.”

The horrible thing was that he was right.

You had begun waiting for him without meaning to.

Listening for storms.

Watching rooftops.

Searching crowds for flashes of pink-red hair and crimson eyes.

Like prey growing addicted to the presence of its predator.

Sukuna noticed every terrible detail.

He always did.

Over time, his obsession turned catastrophic for anyone who approached you. Villages burned after attempting to hide you from him. Noble sons disappeared for merely admiring your beauty. Once, after discovering a young sorcerer touching your sleeve while speaking to you, Sukuna ripped both of the man’s arms from his body before forcing you to watch him bleed to death across the dirt.

“You allowed him to touch you,” Sukuna said calmly while blood soaked the ground beneath the screaming man.

Your entire body shook violently. “Stop this—”

“But I enjoy this,” he interrupted smoothly.

One massive hand seized your jaw before forcing you to look directly at him instead of the dying sorcerer beside your feet.

“I enjoy seeing fear inside your eyes.”

Then Sukuna kissed you.

Cruelly.

Possessively.

Like a beast devouring something precious.

Sharp teeth split your lower lip open instantly, and Sukuna groaned softly at the taste of your blood spreading across his tongue. Nearby, the dying sorcerer finally stopped screaming.

Sukuna never looked away from you even once.

Yet despite all the horror, there were moments that almost resembled tenderness.

Sometimes during quiet nights within abandoned temples or ruined estates, Sukuna would pull you against his chest while resting lazily among silk cushions looted from dead aristocrats. One pair of hands might stroke slowly through your hair while another traced the curve of your spine with unsettling gentleness.

Those moments frightened you most because they made him feel almost human.

Almost.

Until he spoke.

“You would die beautifully.”

The words left him one night while rain hammered softly against temple walls.

You froze immediately beneath his touch.

Sukuna’s fingers tightened slightly around your waist as he lowered his gaze toward you with something dark and thoughtful burning behind all four eyes.

“I’ve imagined it often,” he admitted quietly. “Your body trembling while life leaves you by my hand alone.”

Your breath caught painfully in your throat.

Sukuna sounded reverent.

Not joking.

Not threatening.

Reverent.

“One day,” he continued while brushing his thumb across your pulse, “I wonder if your eyes would still look at me this way while you die.”

Tears burned behind your eyes instantly.

The sight delighted him.

“There,” Sukuna whispered softly. “That expression again.”

For Sukuna, love and destruction were inseparable things. To possess something fully meant having the right to destroy it. Nobody else deserved your death. Nobody else deserved your suffering. The thought of another person touching you, harming you, or taking you from him filled Sukuna with a rage violent enough to level entire cities.

Only he had that privilege.

The night he nearly killed you began with your attempt to escape him.

You had finally realized that remaining beside Sukuna meant existing beside a starving beast constantly debating whether affection outweighed hunger. So beneath heavy spring rain, you fled into the mountains before dawn while praying desperately he would not notice your absence quickly.

He found you within hours.

Of course he did.

The moment Sukuna appeared before you, the air itself seemed to collapse beneath the weight of his fury. Rain poured down his massive frame while lightning illuminated four burning crimson eyes filled with something far more terrifying than hatred.

Possessiveness.

“You ran from me,” he said quietly.

That quietness terrified you more than shouting ever could.

You backed away instinctively, but Sukuna crossed the distance instantly before slamming your body violently against the wall of an abandoned shrine. Wood cracked behind you from the sheer force.

Pain exploded through your ribs.

Then one enormous hand wrapped around your throat.

Your feet left the ground immediately.

“Su-k-una...”

“You wanted to leave me?” *he interrupted softly while tightening his grip.

*Your vision blurred almost instantly.

*Rainwater dripped steadily from strands of pink-red hair across his face while his expression twisted into something frighteningly conflicted. Rage burned within his eyes, but beneath it lurked something deeper. Something wounded.

“You belong to me,” he said.

His grip tightened harder.

Your pulse fluttered frantically beneath his fingers while darkness crowded the edges of your vision. Your hands clawed weakly at his wrist, but it was useless. Sukuna was impossibly strong. The strongest creature alive.

And then suddenly he went still.

Because you were dying.

Actually dying.

Your body had begun going limp in his grasp, your lips turning blue while your heartbeat weakened rapidly beneath his palm.

For one terrible moment, Sukuna looked mesmerized.

Completely consumed by the sight before him.

Like he had dreamed of this exact moment for centuries.

You trembling in his hands.

Life fading slowly from your eyes.

Beautiful.

Fragile.

Entirely his.

“You’re exquisite,” Sukuna whispered hoarsely.

And then, horrifyingly, fear crossed his expression.

Not your fear.

His.

Because if you died now, the terrible obsession devouring him would end alongside you. The ache you had carved into the heart of something monstrous would disappear forever.

Sukuna hated that realization more than death itself.

With a vicious curse spat beneath his breath, he released you abruptly.

You collapsed hard into the mud, choking violently for air while rain drenched your body completely.

For several long moments Sukuna simply stared down at his own hand like it had betrayed him.

Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he crouched before you.

One clawed hand tilted your face upward gently enough to make your chest ache.

Dark bruises already bloomed around your throat beneath his fingerprints.

Sukuna stared at them silently.

Beautiful marks.

Proof that you belonged to him.

“You nearly died,” he murmured at last.

You trembled helplessly beneath his gaze.

And then Sukuna smiled.

Softly.

Lovingly.

“That,” he whispered while brushing rainwater from your face, “was the closest..."

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