FLOWERS
pairing : trueform!sukuna x reader
notes : sorry guys! i felt like writing gut wretching angst instead of bakugo fluff! (i have three drafts of bakugo sitting there.) also took my five hours to write this and i had flowers by aespa on repeat! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
wc : 1506 .ᐟ.ᐟ
warning : angst, gore, scroll if you have weak a stomach, depression, yandere if you squint, toxic, cringe, not proof-read enough, heian era.
She was a white lilium, a flower that symbolized purity and innocence.
The King of Curses voyeured from afar. Leaning against Cherry Blossoms, his piercing gaze unwavering as you plucked the buds from their homes. He strove to avert his crimson orbs; nevertheless, he was compelled to look at you. You lured him in with your integrity. A feeling that contrasted with him that he could not have enough of. You were like a white lilium surrounded by red Spider Lilies, daring to be consumed by something that symbolizes death. As if you could feel a sense of foreboding steal over you, you glanced up at him. A beast, muscular, with four arms, a pair of eyes, and another set beneath them. Loose white robes hanging from his body, acting as clothing. A truly demonic being, he was.
Even so, you approached him, white lilies in hand. In closer inspection, his pupils scanned you from head to toe. A white kimono, graceful yet stained with dirt. It was evident you came from a low status. Nonetheless, you were youthful and a heavenly, divine beauty that revives once a century. Yet you were naive to approach him. An unholy being that contrasts with the likes of you.
A cheerful smile appears on your lips, your mouth parted as you begin to speak. ”Do you want some flowers, sir?” Another token to believe you were exploitable. He sighed, a charitable, generous being you were. “Where is your kin, mortal?” He demanded, his voice strong and firm.
You paused, and a poignant memory flooded your mind once again. Shortly, you began to wail. A noise so raucous to him, a sound that irked him. “Quiet human, tell me what is wrong.” It wasn’t a request, it was a demand.
As you attempted to calm yourself, you brought your dewy, trembling hands to the side. “Th—they a-abandoned me.” You stuttered out, your nose, eyes, and face rosy from weeping. Your innocent tears made him want to keep you, like a bird in a cage. Lock you up till you give in. Without any signals, his brawny hands wrapped around you and hoisted you up, tossing you on his shoulder like a bag of rice.
“W—Where do you intend to take me?” You interrogated, your voice anxious and timid. Shifting your head to obtain a finer glimpse of your abductor, pressing your arms on his beefy back to prevent straining your neck. “Stop moving, brat.” His tone, unyielding as his hand pushed your head back to how it was previously. You compliantly obeyed his orders, your body still like a dead person’s.
A few hours passed, and it was finally nightfall. The dazzling luminaries danced in the sky. You fell into a deep slumber while the stranger was carrying you. When you finally arose from your snooze, you were dressed in a detailed, tasteful snow-white kimono. Observing your surroundings, earning for a sense of familiarity, your hands felt the mattress you slept on, a thick, layered tatami mat. A distinction from the straw mats you slept on in your village before. The room was different. The walls were grey with no windows for sunlight, creating a gloomy atmosphere. You scanned for exits, the door capturing your eye. You stood up, walking over to the door until a chain tug at your feet. Your eyes widen as you realized the chains connected to a pole on the wall.
Abruptly, an androgynous subordinate entered your quarters. They had a stoic face, powder white micro-bob, and strange red blotches around their hair. They wore traditional monk attire, a basic white kimono layered with a dark robe off one shoulder. As if snapping you out of your delusions,they spoke. “You will be married to the lord today, in a month.” You stared at the servant, dumbfounded and amused. A chuckle accidentally slipped out. “I am serious!” They yelled sternly; it was clear you infuriated them, too. “For the time being, you may wander around the palace if you would like.” They spoke, immediately changing tones from before.
You didn’t think about the marriage twice, taking the whole thing lightly.
The King of Curses followed in after his loyal servant left. He crouched down beside you, wanting to be gentle, not wanting to break you just yet. He hands you a hand mirror, carved with various details and decorated with tons of expensive jewels. “Keep it safe, Mortal.” His words lingered in your mind as you got up to leave, leaving you speechless.
For the first week, you were like sunlight to withered flowers. Bringing slight joy to the curses who were serving the king. Your aura brought bliss to the kingdom for the first time in millennia. The king never paid you any visits. But once again, he peered from afar. Stalking each and every of your moves. Witness how you influenced the depressing beings with your liveliness. Soon, you realized each curse you befriended before had started missing. The once buoyant castle fell back to its former gloom. Rumors spread around, the Lord commanding his top subordinates to eliminate each curse that dared to defy his decrees and even dare to be in your presence, oppressing the entirety of the palace with fear. The spark you once built up in a short amount of time collapsed. The kingdom disintegrated into another period of despair, panic, and horror. Nevertheless, in the second week, you made an effort to re-establish the joy you once brought. But it only touched a few, who began to leave without a trace.
Soon, you stumble behind the palace where the garden was located. Looking for other varieties of blossoms to gather. Your eyes peeked around the corner, then you saw it. Crimson blood lay everywhere, curses you had once befriended dismembered. Limbs everywhere. You shrieked; you knew you should’ve taken the hint to discontinue. But you were too naive, like how he had said before. How could the likes of you spread ecstasy in a dreary, bleak region like this?
The guilt penetrated you, your mind foggy. You started losing balance, your breath unstable as you hit your head on the concrete ground. You stir awake, finding yourself in your private quarters, earning a sense of deja vu. The snug futon you slept on, your mind perceived as bitter and cold. Your hand grasped the fancy hand mirror beside your mattress. Your reflection once warm, and glee, now pale, and senseless.
Everywhere you went, anxiety and terror rushed through you. Unease at the idea that you might cause another to disappear from the earth. Which ultimately tore you apart, too. You stopped talking, stopped moving. Your entire body and mind felt numb.
And it was his plan all along.
In the third week, you barely ate; hunger was just an illusion to you at this point. It was also one week closer to your marriage. Many maids and servants came out of your room at multiple points of the day. Checking your well-being and getting your measurements. Your health quickly decreased. The terror replays in your mind repeatedly. Soon, the maids had to bathe you; if not, your entire body would be rotting right now. The glimpse of your bones began to display; therefore, the servants were forced to feed you. You were like a porcelain doll. You didn’t move, talk, or think.
Shortly, a day before your wedding day, a ravishing, scarlet and ebony Shiromuku appeared on your mattress. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder. You were paralyzed; every second of living was unbearable. You were unfathomable, unable to understand why such a cruel monster as he would want to rule over a terror-stricken populace.
The next day, on the first day of the fourth week, at the Hour of the Ox, the large public bells at the castle rang around midnight. You were wakeful and insomniac; the ringing all around awakened something in you. You smashed the hand mirror that you once cherished from the Lord. Many pieces of glass are scattered everywhere, rage scorching through your veins. A fiery force, a surge of adrenaline coursed throughout your body. You finally comprehended everything, and you threw a tantrum. Smashing every single thing in your chamber.
You seized a segment of the broken glasses beneath your feet. The pungent rim spiked your palms. The acute edges punctured your lungs, acting as a knife. Shedding vermillion liquid across the floor, as every second was insufferable, as you lay on the ground unconscious.
The Monarch decided to make an appearance before the event. His devilish smirk faltered as he saw the sight of puddles of blood. His four eyes scrutinized the surroundings hastily. Your private chambers trashed, the malodorous smell of iron reached his nostrils, and an aqueous liquid pooled around his bare feet. The demon felt despair for the first time. He crouched down to a squat, tears finally forming. A feeling he did not acknowledge before.
It was the day of your wedding, the first day of the fourth week. Four. An evil number in Japan, it was pronounced as “Shi”, which sounded like the word death.
@crellytina do not repost, steal or translate