Voices (starring. true form heian era!sukuna)
synopsis. The greatest calamity of the Heian era discovers far too late that love is a far more dangerous thing than war. content. true form heian era sukuna x nonverbal reader, contains nsfw, but mostly fluff, sukuna is sukuna, annoying sukuna, he's a little shit lol, but he is still sukuna so expect ppl dying, uraume screentime, heian era themes, forgive me if not all of these are historically accurate lol, lowkey projected my voice fetish to sukuna icl, semi smut (is that a thing?), mentions of sugawara and fujiwara clan, lowkey smut with plot wc: 4.3k (whew my longest oneshot fic ever)
The night Ryomen Sukuna came into existence, no one expected his birth to shape the history of sorcery during the Heian Era. He stood tall, a cursed human with four arms and two mouths, born beneath a sky split by red lightning as if the gods themselves sought to strike him back into nothingness. His mother died before dawn, followed by the midwife, choking upon blood and prayers alike.
By the time Ryomen Sukuna had grown into a man, the villages around the western provinces no longer called him human at all. They called him a natural calamity, and Sukuna, in all his monstrous stature, found the title amusing.
The Heian era yielded to him like the earth itself feared standing in his way. Sorcerers sharpened their techniques for the sole purpose of surviving his wrath while clans offered sacrifices to avoid his anger. Temples whispered countless prayers at night, praying his shadow would pass over another province instead.
Yet none of those mattered, for Sukuna slaughtered when he pleased. And when he did, the voices remained.
A thousand anguished cries lived within the chambers of his mind. Men begging for mercy, women cursing his name through bloodied lips, and children shrieking for their mothers already split in half before their own eyes. Their fear lingered the longest, curdling sweetly against his ears long after their bodies rotted.
He enjoyed proving how frail humanity truly was after abandoning his own. Yet never, not once in all his years, had a sound haunted him the way yours did.
--
The dry winter winds carried flames from roof to roof until the entire settlement glowed crimson beneath the moonlight, while sorcerers sent to defend the village in flames died embarrassingly fast beneath Sukuna's hands. By the time the screaming stopped, only smoke remained drifting through the night air... and you.
You were hidden inside a half-collapsed hut near the edge of the forest, curled tightly beside a dead oil lamp with soot smeared across your face and trembling hands wrapped around a brush like it could somehow protect you. Sukuna expected screaming the moment you saw him (like humans always do), yet you only stared at him with wide, frightened eyes and slightly parted lips that refused to form words. The complete silence intrigued him far more than fear ever could.
He crouched slightly to fit beneath the ruined doorway, all four eyes studying yours with idle curiosity while blood dripped slowly from one of his lower hands. Up close, you looked painfully fragile, thin shoulders trembling hard enough that your breath seemed unsteady.
Sukuna murmured a lazy "hmm", tilting his head just slightly, "You're alive."
You flinched immediately at the sound of his voice, though still no words came from you. Interesting, he thinks.
One of his lower hands reached forward and grabbed your chin before you could recoil further, forcing your face upward towards him. His grip wasn't rough, but the sheer size of him made escape impossible and you could smell blood clinging to his robes, "Can't speak, little human?" he asked bluntly, watching your throat bob nervously from his hold. Your lips parted slightly before a tiny sound escaped you at last... not quite a whimper, but more like a weak little huff strained by utter fear.
Sukuna paused upon hearing. Something about that sound cut cleanly through the endless noise inside his head, as it lacked the shrill ugliness he'd grown accustomed to from humans facing death. Instead, it was soft enough that he almost missed it beneath the crackling flames outside, "Come again?" he said quietly, and your eyes widened immediately in alarm, as another breathy sound slipped out by accident.
And for the first time in centuries, Ryomen Sukuna spared someone simply because he wanted to hear them again.
His shrine sat deep within the mountains, hidden beyond forests and cursed barriers strong enough to keep most travelers away. It had once belonged to a noble clan before Sukuna slaughtered them and claimed it for himself, turning the estate into his own palace. Servants drifted silently through countless hallways like frightened ghosts, speaking only when spoken to and lowering their heads firmly whenever he passed. No one questioned his actions, nor lingered near him willingly, as no one has survived long after irritating him.
Well, except you.
At first, the servants assumed your survival was temporary; another passing amusement before the lord himself inevitably grew bored and killed you like the rest. Yet days turned into weeks and instead of dying, you settled into the shrine as if you always belonged there. You mostly tended gardens and arranged flowers, sometimes fed koi in the courtyard ponds, and quietly helped the older servants with tasks despite their obvious nervousness around you. Your old quarters (that you used to share with another young female servant who suddenly disappeared after someone heard her insulting you behind your back) was moved next to Sukuna's chambers rather than keeping your place in the servant wing.
Uraume has heard the whispers, of course.
"The servants are talking about it, my lord," they informed Sukuna one evening while preparing his meal, tone as calm and unreadable as ever. Sukuna barely looked up from where he lounged near the open engawa with sake resting loosely in one hand, utterly uninterested in gossip, "They always talk," he answered lazily.
Uraume paused for a bit before answering, "They believe the girl is being favored," which made Sukuna snicker softly.
"And?" he asked, glancing towards the gardens where you sat beneath a maple tree, reading beneath the afternoon light. You were completely absorbed in your scroll, unaware that Sukuna had been watching you.
"You have not killed anyone for staring at you that long before, my lord," they pointed out carefully.
Sukuna's gaze lingered on you another moment before he took another slow sip of sake, "Perhaps she's less irritating than the rest of you," he replied.
The library became your favorite place almost immediately after discovering it. Entire hallways were lined with ancient scrolls and bound texts stolen from noble estates and clans Sukuna had destroyed before. Poetry, military records, religious texts, court literature--everything you could ever think of reading filled the room untouched, since most servants feared entering the room at all and risk finding Sukuna in there. On the other hand, you practically spent most of your time there whenever your small tasks were finished.
Sukuna discovered it accidentally one evening during spring after returning from battle earlier than expected. Blood still stained some parts of his robes when he entered the library and found you taking a nap against a pile of scrolls, your brush loosely hanging from your fingers. One book rested open across your lap and Sukuna immediately recognized it. "Of course," he muttered upon seeing The Tale of Genji sprawled carelessly beside you.
Your eyes blinked open almost immediately at the sound of his voice. Panic flashed acrpss your face and you quickly sat upright suddenly that several scrolls nearly toppled over. Sukuna watched embarrassment show on your expressive face with growing amusement while you scrambled to reorganize the mess around you.
"You're into romance, little human?" he asked mockingly, leaning one shoulder against the shelf nearby. Your brows furrowed instantly before you reached for paper and your brush.
'It's literature.'
"How defensive," he mused, and when you shoved the paper toward him harder this time as if to emphasize your claims, another annoyed little huff escaped you automatically. His eyes sharpened almost immediately at the sound, interest flickering openly on his face.
"You do that often around me, don't you?" he observed, crouching beside you slowly enough that his shadow swallowed nearly the entire space around you. You looked away at once so he won't see you roll your eyes at him, which only made his grin stretch further.
"That small sound," he continued casually, "I always hear it every time you're annoyed," he reached to grab the paper from your hands as your expression turned wary while Sukuna glanced down at your messy handwriting, "It's literature," he read aloud mocklingly before glancing at you again, "You sound like a bitter old scholar."
Your glare deepened immediately, and Sukuna added with obvious satisfaction, "And now you're glaring," he tilted his head slightly while studying your face, "Do that again, little human," as another offended little sound slipped from your lips before you could stop it, and Sukuna laughed quietly beneath his breath while something warm and unfamiliar sets unpleasantly in his chest. He enjoyed provoking you far more than he should have.
You stopped fearing him slowly after that, though never entirely. There remained moments where Ryomen Sukuna looked less like a man and more like a monster pretending to wear human skin, especially on nights he returned to the shrine drenched in blood while severed heads hung loosely from his hands. Servants bowed low enough and shake whenever he passed, terrified that one wrong glance might cost them their lives.
You feared him then; really, you should have. Yet somehow, those moments became harder to reconcile with the Sukuna who sat beside you in the gardens while you silently shared poetry through written passages, or the Sukuna who quietly left rare literature outside your chambers after you mentioned it once.
Or, on the more extreme side of things, the Sukuna who almost killed a servant for speaking cruelly about your silence.
'You frightened him to death', you wrote while he lounged carelessly across the engawa like he hadn't just cleaved a man's arm earlier that morning. He looked entirely unbothered by your disapproving stare, resting his chin lazily against one palm.
"He annoyed me," he replied simply, and you immediately scribbled another sentence beneath the first.
'You cut his arm off for that?'
"Yes, because he annoyed me."
You stared at him before slowly writing again in neat strokes.
'Thank you.'
Sukuna paused so briefly most people would have never noticed it, but you did. His gaze lingered on the words traced on paper longer than expected before he clicked his tongue softly and leaned back, "Don't make a habit of thanking me for such trivial things, little human," he muttered, though he looked oddly pleased afterward anyway.
Summer arrived humid and unbearably warm, wrapping the shrine in thick heat that made even the servants sluggish by midday. Sukuna, however, seemed entirely unaffected by the weather, lounging lazily near the open veranda with one leg bent while you watered flowers nearby. The loose layers of his robes hung low around his broad shoulders, exposing his curse-marked skin that carried faint traces of his old scars.
"You're avoiding me today," he spoke randomly, not even bothering to lift his gaze from the sake cup balanced between his fingers. You nearly spilled water onto yourself from the sudden sound of his voice, earning an immediate grin from him the moment you looked over.
"Now there's that face," Sukuna added lazily, clearly entertained by your expressive nature. Your brows furrowed while you quickly reached for the small stack of paper tucked into your kimono sleeve.
'I am gardening.'
"Hm, poorly."
Your eyes narrowed at him and he ignores it, continuing, "The flowers near the eastern wall are dying," he said, watching you straighten in alarm before quickly walking toward the far side of the courtyard. Sukuna remained perfectly still while you crouched beside the hydrangeas to inspect them, only for you to realize several moments later that they looked perfectly healthy and even blooming, thanks to your hard work of taking care of them.
You slowly turned back towards him with the most unimpressed expression he'd seen all week while he looked deeply satisfied with himself.
'You lied.'
"I did."
'Why?'
His grin widened as he rested his cheek against one palm, "You make better sounds when irritated," and right on cue, an annoyed little huff escaped before you coult stop it. Sukuna laughed, a deep, genuine laughter that startled several nearby servants badly enough that one almost dropped an entire tray of dishes.
You blinked at him in surprise because he almost never laughed like that in your whole stay in the shrine. "What?" he asked, though amusement still lingered openly across his face. You hesitated before lowering your gaze to the paper again, brushing ink carefully across the surface while trying not to look strangely flustered by the sound of his laughter. When you finally showed the note towards him, Sukuna's two sets of eyes scanned the words quickly.
'I've never heard you laugh like that before.'
His gaze flickered towards you again, softer, and it made your chest tighten unexpectedly. "That's because most people here are boring," your lips twitched and he immediately noticed that too, so he adds, "And you are very easy to mess with."
One night, he had returned from battle irritated and soaked in blood, though none of his minor injuries looked life-threatening enough to truly concern him. His cursed energy still cracked faintly around him, unable to use reversed cursed technique to heal himself from using his technique too much, making servants scatter from the hallways the moment he entered the shrine. Sukuna found you waiting quietly outside his chambers holding a clean cloth and a warm basin of water.
"Hm?" One brow lifted slightly as his gaze settled on you, "What are you doing, little human?"
You ignored his question completely and gestured for him to sit, as he stared at you mildly surprised by your boldness before lowering himself onto the floor cushions near the open doors. Up close, there's a dark blood sliding slowly down his chiseled shoulders. You carefully dipped the cloth into water before gently pressing it against the small wound, and though your hands trembled slightly at first, the shaking gradually faded the longer you worked as Sukuna watched you quietly the entire time.
"You know what I am," his deep voice reverbed through the quiet hallway, unusually calm beneath the sound of the rain beginning outside. You nodded as he continued, "... I am a monster," another nod from you followed, slower this time.
Sukuna's gaze sharpened slightly as one of his hands rested against his knee, "And you're still here?"
Your fingers tightened briefly around the cloth before you reached for neaby paper and brush.
'But you've never hurt me.'
He went strangely quiet after reading your message, staring at the words before one large hand suddenly settled atop your head. His fingers were brushing awkwardly through your hair as though he wasn't entirely used to doing the gesture, "Foolish human," he murmured, though his voice lacked bite. Heat spreads softly through your chest anyway.
Autumn arrived as maple leaves drifted endlessly through shrine courtyards, colder winds carried rumors from neighboring provinces. There were whispers of sorcerer clans finally grown desperate enough to unite against The King of Curses, gathering different techniques and warriors in numbers large enough to be considered a threat. Servants talked about it nervously through hallways whenever they thought Sukuna wasn't listening, though the fear lingering throughout the place never seemed to affect him. If anything, he's quite amused.
It was evening while you were searching for a misplaced scroll near Sukuna's chambers as you heard Uraume's voice drifting through the partially opened door ahead.
"The Sugawara Clan, alongside the Fujiwara, has joined the war, my lord," they said calmly, "They intend to attack the shrine directly."
You heard Sukuna scoffing immediately upon hearing this, the sound low and unimpressed, "Then I'll have to deal with them directly."
"You are unconcerned?"
"They're mere pests to me, Uraume."
A brief silence followed before Uraume spoke again, tone careful, "... And the girl?"
Your breath was caught instantly as Sukuna answered without hesitation, "She leaves tonight."
Sukuna continued to talk while your fingers tightened painfully around the scroll in your hands as everything inside you went still, "She'll be moved eastward until this ends. The shrine will become a battlefield soon enough."
Uraume hesitated briefly before asking again, "And if she refuses?"
"She won't."
Your chest ached as if it stole the breath from your lungs.
"I care little if servants die," Sukuna added afterward, voice colder, "But I won't let her get caught in the middle of this nonsense."
You backed away from the doorway before either of them could notice you listening, heart pounding violently while confusion and hurt tangled painfully together inside your chest. By the time Uraume arrived at your chambers later that night, your belongings already sat neatly packed beside the door.
Uraume paused, "...You heard?"
You lowered your gaze as you nodded. For once, even Uraume seemed uncertain what to say. They had always treated you strangely gently compared to other within the shrine, perhaps because Sukuna favored you so openly. Or perhaps because you yourself never caused trouble.
"The lord only intends your safety," they finally say and you immediately show the small paper from your hands, as if you're already anticipating to ask this question even before Uraume went to your room.
'When will he come?'
Uraume's eyes softened as they answered, "When the war ends."
After two grueling days of travelling, you finally reached the estate and it was beautiful, even more luxurious than Sukuna's shrine. But you hated it immediately.
The courtyard lacked the distant sounds of servants moving through the shrine hallways or Sukuna's cursed energy lingering heavily in the air like an approaching storm. Servants attended to your every need with nervous politeness, cooked eastern delicacies for you, yet none of it mattered. Without Sukuna here, the place felt unbearably empty.
At first, you convinced yourself that this is only temporary and he would arrive within days. Yet weeks passed and he's still nowhere. Rumors continued reaching the estate through wandering servants about The Great Sorcery War: entire clans were wiped out overnight, rivers stained red with blood, warriors disappearing without even leaving bodies behind. Sukuna was winning, of course, he is, yet he still never came for you.
You never even had the chance to properly say goodbye to him, and it made the loneliness even unbearable. The little tasks you enjoyed doing didn't make you happy anymore. You haven't read a scroll in weeks, never even attempted to look at the flowers blooming in the garden, and sleep rarely comes to visit you at night.
Most nights, you sat awake until sunrise beside the open balcony doors, staring into darkness while clutching scrolls you never actually read. Every sound made your heart jump stupidly with hope before disappointment settled in all over again, realizing it's only a curious animal passing by. Somewhere along the way, you realized you missed Sukuna so badly it physically hurt.
You realized he has somehow become home.
You had cried yourself to exhaustion as the rain poured heavily outside, curled beneath your blankets while thunder echoed distantly through the mountains outside. Your chest still ached painfully from trying not to think about him, and exhaustion clung heavily to your body even as sleep refused to come properly. Then, sometime past midnight, the balcony doors slid open.
Your breath was caught instantly as Sukuna stepped through the shadows, cold wind rushing inside alongside him.
He looked exhausted, damp pink hair clinging slightly against his forehead while blood and rainwater stained his robes. Yet the moment all four eyes landed on you sitting upright, something in his expression shifted. Before he could properly speak to you, you were already moving towards him, almost stumbling in your steps.
By the time Sukuna had fully registered what was happening, you had already collided against his chest hard enough to nearly knock him backward. Your arms wrapped around his broad figure desperately while broken sobs escaped your throat before you could stop them. He blinked once in visible surprise before all four arms closed around you automatically, "Hm?" he muttered, though his grip impossibly tightened even more, afraid you'd let go.
You only held him tighter.
Your entire body shook against him while tears soaked through his already damp robes, and for several moments, he stayed still, listening to your sobs quietly. One large hand eventually slid upward to brush slowly through your hair, "I'm already here," he murmured after a while, voice quieter than usual, "Why are you crying like I died?"
Another sob escaped you helplessly. Sukuna sighed softly before lifting you effortlessly into his arms and carrying you towards your futon nearby. He settled against the edge while keeping you securely on his lap, all four arms wrapped around you tightly that his warmth surrounded you from every direction. The rain tapped steadily outside while you stared at him through tear-blurred eyes, lips trembling slightly before the words slipped free without warning.
"... missed you."
Sukuna froze completely beneath you as silence filled the room. Your own eyes widened because the sound of your voice felt foreign after so many silent years. It came out rough and fragile from disuse, barely louder than the rain outside, yet Sukuna looked at you like the world itself had stopped turning. Slowly, one of his hands tightened around your waist.
"Say that again."
You swallowed hard, voice trembling, "...I missed you."
God. Your voice. It was soft and scratchy but undeniably real, carrying warmth that struck straight through his soul harder than any cursed technique ever had. Sukuna had spent centuries listening to cries, prayers, and screams; endless human noise blurring together inside his head until none of it mattered. Hearing you speak for the first time felt terrifyingly different... he felt truly alive.
One hand moved upward to cup your jaw while four of his crimson eyes searched your face, "Again."
"S-sukuna--"
He kissed you before you could finish, hard. It was completely overwhelming like the rest of him, and your breath caught against his mouth as all four hands pulled you even closer against him, large palms spanning nearly your entire waist and back. Sukuna kissed like a starving man finally allowed to eat his favorite delicacy, sharp teeth grazing your lower lip enough to make you shiver against him. A small startled sound escaped your throat as he groaned softly into your mouth in response.
"There you go," he murmured between kisses, voice rougher now.
His tongue slid inside yours before he kissed you even deeper, savoring every tiny sound you accidentally made into his mouth as though each one intoxicated him further. One hand tangled through your hair while another spread warmly against your thigh beneath your robes, keeping you firmly against his lap. It felt dizzying and overwhelming enough for your fingers to curl tightly against his broad shoulders just to stay grounded.
"Sukuna..." you whispered weakly once he finally pulled back enough for air.
His eyes darkened immediately, "Again."
Your cheeks burned furiously with his stare, pupils blown wide that you almost can't see his crimson irises, and he kissed you all over.
"You have no idea," he murmurs against your jaw between slow kisses, "how long I've wanted to hear you." Another kiss followed, lingering warmly against your skin, "You'd glare at me and make those annoyed little sounds whenever I irritated you on purpose, shoved your papers at me..."
A breathy laugh escaped you and Sukuna genuinely looked ruined by the sound, "..Yeah," he muttered softly, thumb brushing beneath your robes along your waist before kissing you again, "That one too."
His forehead rested briefly against yours while all four hands continued touching you all over like he couldn't stop himself, one tracing slow circles on your back while another remained securely around your waist. You melted helplessly against his chest beneath the overwhelming warmth of him and for the first time in weeks, the hollow ache inside you finally began easing.
Sukuna stared at you afterward with half-lidded eyes, drunk on your mere presence and voice, as he spoke quietly, "... I love hearing you."
You stared at him back fondly, like the words from his lips slipped free before pride could stop them. After all, he is The King of Curses, and confessions like this is foreign to him who grew up with violence etched into his very soul and worshipped through fear rather than love.
"I love you too," you whispered back, voice rough yet warm that made something inside Sukuna to tighten almost painfully. His mouth crashed against yours immediately afterward. This time, the kiss felt desperate in a way Sukuna himself couldn't understand. It was all consuming warmth and restrained hunger, like he was trying to memorize the sound of your voice through the shape of your lips alone.
He didn't quite know what to do with the terrifying warmth blooming inside his chest except to kiss you until neither of you could breathe properly anymore. You kissed him back just as desperately while rain poured endlessly beyond the balcony doors. The room smelled of old incense and iron from the dried blood staining his robes, yet while being wrapped within all four of his arms, none of it frightened you anymore to the point of silence. The loneliness that had hollowed both of you finally began to disappear.
Outside the estate, the Heian era remained cruel as ever. Sorcerers would continue haunting him in hopes of finally ending his reign and villages would still tremble at the mere mention of Ryomen Sukuna's name. When the sun comes up, he would once again become the monster history feared, draped in blood while the world cursed his existence.
But tonight, with you sitting safely on his lap and your voice embedded in the deepest chambers of his mind and your lips lingering against his mouth, Sukuna allowed himself to feel peace.
For the first time in centuries, he did not feel like the abomination people had shaped him out to be; Ryomen Sukuna just felt completely human.
_________
i was ovulating while writing this
anyway i hope u enjoy my first jjk fic here :3
