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konpeitochodai · 23 days

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𝐅𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒: 一 | 鵺 | 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 両面宿儺

肩の向こうにあなた・・・山が燃える

paring/s; ryomen sukuna x fem! reader

genre; josei; heian period, historical romance

word count: 2.3k; unedited

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tags: @shogunish @unnisumi

the sound of heavy footsteps creak against wooden flooring. as the shoji door creaks, a palpable shift permeates the air as sukuna steps through its entrance. a thrumming pulse, akin to the rhythm of a heartbeat, resonates through the atmosphere, sending ripples across the space. the sound of a bird's cry, raw and dissonant, pierces the silence—distorting the room before him.

the walls begin to warp as if reality itself bends. the very structure seems to breathe, expanding and contracting with the pulsating energy that now dominates the air.

reality seems to fracture, each piece a mirror to a splintering dimension. with the sound of your body creating a thud on the floor, the sound echoes catalyzing the disintegration. the room is suddenly engulfed in cursed energy, so potent it seems to dissolve its very walls.

the surroundings begin to rise and reform, the mundane giving way to the grandeur of a noble estate, adorned with the proud insignia of a northern clan. with timber frameworks and sliding panels—the shoji repaired, no longer barring holes.

as the transformation settles, it appears the cursed energy has been purged, leaving behind the serene opulence of the mansion. yet, the truth dawns on him; the cursed energy has not vanished but is now omnipresent, so fully integrated into the estate that it creates an illusion of purity—yet it’s brimming with it.

taking in the vastness of the estate, he recognizes it, as it was a place he became familiar with recently. yet, as his gaze shifts downward, there's a stark dissonance. your eyes, wide and filled with a certain terror, betray no recognition of the recent events, as though you've been abruptly displaced in time and space.

your hands are clenched tightly, the delicate crimson silk fabrics of your junihitoe crumpled in your grasp.

in this moment of confusion and surreal stillness, your voice cuts through, soft yet trembles, "who are you?"

"have you forgotten?" he begins, lowering himself to your eye level. the shrill cry of a bird pierces the air once more, its unsettling sound echoing around you. "nue?" he utters in disgust of the name.

"nue?" you repeat, the word feeling strange on your tongue.

in an instant, the world around you shifts, alternating between his grand estate and your own surroundings. the flickering back and forth between the two places creates a disorienting sensation, as if reality itself is being toyed with by unseen forces. the nue's presence, he speaks of, seems to hold the key to this perplexing dance between two realms.

his words hang in the air, a heavy accusation that doesn't quite fit together in your mind. a nue? you weren’t a nue. you couldn’t fathom why you were being accused as one—had this man been to disillusioned by folklore? although, upon further inspection, you were more perplexed by his appearance, one you tried to overlook. but the question still floods your head; had he been the conjoined twins overthrown by the yamato clan? however, he moved as if he were only one being, not two, his actions guided by a solitary conscience. but as you reel from the confusion, trying to piece together a response, his hands moves swiftly towards your face, the impact of his palms stark and jarring.

in that moment, reality splinters. you’re left with a split image—something that through untrained eyes one would think that this was a mere nightmare. within the feverish haze that clouds your senses, elongated figures creep around you in the confines of your room. they move eerily, making you come to the realization that each of your limbs were being constrained.

and there, amidst the memory, is the nue, its body a ravaged carcass. they bring it to you, insistently, as if in offering.

the putrid taste and smell floods your senses, as the feeling of its feathers brushed against your tongue, and its bones gazed against your esophagus. tears welled up in your eyes as you flail your body around in their grasp—but your efforts are fruitless as the figures continue to force its gelatinous body down your throat. the substance of the curse invading your being, threatening to corrupt your core.

but as quickly as it began, the vision dissipates, leaving you gasping back into reality. your surroundings have transformed; the mansion is marred with jagged cuts across the walls, almost like a broken mirror. the man who had struck you now looms above, looking down at you with a damning expression.

"you’re one nasty curse,” he spat.

as he pieced together the puzzle, the eerie illusion of your estate began to make sense to him. the discordant cries of the birds, once out of place, now formed a sinister chorus that underscored the truth of the situation. his suspicions only solidified as he roamed around the halls of your original estate, where a violent encounter with one of your attendants led to an unexpected revelation. rather than falling lifelessly, the attendant exploded, engulfing the estate in flames—a clear sign of a nue's curse.

the northern [surname] clan, was once prominent in nagaoka, had been consumed by the nue's deception, its members replaced by illusions. initially, he assumed that you, the clan's heiress, was also a manifestation of the nue. but when the accusation left his lips, when he expected the facade to crumble and reveal the creature lurking beneath, nothing changed. your form remained unscathed by the suspicion that sought to unravel your existence.

fear was indeed there, evident in your eyes, but it did not dominate your features. instead, there was a serene beauty to your visage, one that made him understand why suitors from across japan traveled to be graced by your presence.

"i ate one," you confessed, the sound barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to reverberate through the silence with the force of a scream. "there’s one in me."

you break eye contact with him, as you utter once more, "i ate one..."

he raises an eyebrow to this sudden confession..

in the next breath, the illusion that once defined your mansion dissipates like mist. the world around you ignites with an intensity of color that's almost blinding. patterns swirl through the air, intricate and wild, mirroring the ones on your outer hitoe as they flutter weightlessly around you, as if caught in a silent tempest.

chrysanthemum blossoms begin to dance in the newfound space, their petals flowing in streams that weave through the air. they twirl and multiply, creating a living tapestry that moves with a life of its own, transforming the once-still mansion into a dynamic sea of color and motion.

the more you question the fabric of your existence, the more the world around you warps. with each thought of your attendants, their forms begin to take shape in this distorted realm, cursed spirits born of your memories and fears.

as each attendant solidifies, you were sure that these were your attendants, that each of them had been real. but before you can reach out, before you can grasp any semblance of the life you thought you knew, sukuna acts. with a casual flick of his power, he eradicates their forms, and you watch in horror as they burst, not just falling but exploding into nonexistence.

your eyes are widen in shock, the images seared into your mind. the life you lived, was it ever real? were you ever sick? where is your family in all this? who, indeed, has cursed you, and for what purpose? why did you eat a nue? who did this? but why? why you? the questions spiral, each one tearing a little more at the edges of the world you thought you knew.

a hint of merriment dances around in his gaze, realizing that the heiress of the northern [surname] clan may not even realize her own heritage—amused with how you were unaware that you bare these innate abilities.

“you were the only one in that mansion,” his voice reverberated against the walls, each syllable heavy with a mocking assurance, “except you and those pathetic men whom you killed some while ago, the ones who served you, unaware of their own deaths.”

he breaks you out of your trance. confusion being the only thing you’re familiar with, wondering what he was referring to—the men you killed? ‘the men’ several, that ‘you killed’’ repeats in your mind.

the chrysanthemum blossoms begin to wilt, as the images come flooding your vision.

images of those men, manifest themselves into shadowed figures before you—unable to tell which direction they were facing. they all bared resemblance to nobles, the silhouettes of their sokutai being the only thing you recognized. you watch as they gather around a distorted figure of yourself—her smile malicious, contrasting the garments she wore.

crimson spreads throughout these shadowed figures, as you watch your chest stretches and configures into spikes of skin piercing out as the nue attempts to merge with your very essence, you witness a chaotic burst of curse energy, as if your soul had tried to reject it out of your body.

this power, raw and untamed, spills forth uncontrollably, its wrath consuming the men in its path. as they fall before you, their forms grotesquely twist into those of your trusted attendants—leaving you petrified with horror.

sukuna finds himself absolutely enthralled by the idea of you. the notion that someone could be so audacious, so seemingly foolish, to attract his attention is intriguing to him. he wonders if this trait runs in the [surname] clan or if you are an outlier. the apparent eradication of the clan leaves many questions unanswered, but your actions have piqued his interest.

as he gazes upon your frightened expression, a rare moment of contemplation washes over him. he finds himself pondering the peculiar sensation that has taken hold, wondering if this enthrallment—this intense fascination—could be akin to what people call love at first sight. something so foreign to him, yet your presence has stirred something within him, a curiosity that goes beyond mere interest.

he contemplates the idea of your self-inflicted amnesia, pondering whether it's a mere temporary blindness or if the deluge of past memories has already begun to seep through the cracks of your mind.

“are you going to kill me?" your voice slips through, as he carefully calculates his next move. the raw emotion on your face, so at odds with the latent strength of the power you've inherited, only serves to deepen his intrigue.

"please kill me," you implore, almost resembling your first encounter.

however, it would be such a waste to end your life here, and now. if you couldn’t understand your powers, and utilize them while being conscious—there would be no point in killing you for your cursed technique.

a technique that had the ability to not fool only a village, but an entire nation—even himself into believing the [surname] clan was still alive. that its heiress to its vast lands and nobility, had fallen ill was seeking suitors.

how the infamous tales of the heiress captured the attention of many japanese nobles—challenging them to see if they could win the heart of an heiress who was rather picky in her choice of men. an heiress who’s rejection led suitors to vanish in complete air—embarrassed, hiding themselves from society after being rejected in her court.

how in actuality, it was her who had killed all these men.

how could he kill you now?

on that fateful night, as the flames consumed the original [surname] mansion, the truth was laid bare. the illusion was shattered, revealing the depth of your deception. even if it was unbeknownst to you, for such a beauty to possess such wit, and for such a beauty to see him in a light no one else did, there was no way he was going to kill you—not when your very existence had become a curiosity too intriguing to snuff out.

"i won't," he speaks, his voice a velvety whisper that seems almost kind, yet you can't shake the feeling of dread that clings to his every syllable. you’re trembling, not just from the fear of the man in front of you but also from the fear of the person you're becoming under his gaze. yet, you can't look away; you can't stop listening to him.

with each word he utters, the reality you meticulously crafted for yourself begins to crumble. you’re unaware of how deeply your heart has started to trust him against your better judgment. but he sees it, clear as day, and that knowledge only broadens his malicious smirk.

"believe me, i could never bring such a fate to someone as... precious as you," he says, the lie rolling off his tongue like honey. "for you’ve captivated me, and it would be such a waste, a world devoid of your presence.”

his words are as hollow as the echo of a bell, yet they ring with a truth you want to believe. and as your facade shatters, he watches the realization reflect through the glint in your eyes, his smirk growing ever more triumphant at the sight of your unwitting trust.

his lips press against yours with an urgency that startles you. the scent of burnt cedar invades your senses, intertwining with the roughness of his kiss. as he deepens the embrace, there's a slight bitter taste, yet it's intoxicating, a heady concoction that you can't help but savor—as if it was an aphrodisiac.

you can feel the greed in his movements, as a warm hand brings you closer to him. but amidst the intensity, there's a fleeting moment where the kiss softens.

underneath the guise of a passionate kiss, a deeper covenant was being forged, unbeknownst to your conscious mind. the nue within your soul stirred from its slumber. as sukuna’s lips pressed against yours, the nue’s soul intertwined with his, creating an unspoken contract sealed by the fervor of the moment…

#⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡まりこからやで〜#can you guess who you’re the ancestor to #okay that was the basis #i promise there will be more actual dialogue #sorry i’m really imagery based #呪術廻戦 #sukuna ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #anime #jujutsu kaisen x you #manga #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader

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