UNNAMED
You are a young witch seeking asylum from the persecution brought by the new order of your kingdom.
𖧧.˚⸙‧.⚘˖｡‧᯽‧｡˖⚘.‧⸙˚.𖧧
cw: minors do not interact, dead dove: do not eat, canon-typical violence, murder, cannibalism, dubious consent, angst, kidnapping, blood, torture, power imbalance, dacryphilia, yandere, possessive behavior, religious themes, animal death, psychological horror, period sex, force-feeding
jjk fantasy au, fae!sukuna x witch!reader x fae!gojo
ch 3, wc: 9.6k
previous masterlist
this chapter is evil, freaky, and kinda fucking gross :3
STARE AT THE VOID
Somewhere between real and imaginary, a monster hidden in plain sight.
Sukuna was still asleep when you woke the next morning.
You didn’t notice at first, and being that it was something that had never happened before, you nearly shrieked when you saw his pile of furs shift slightly out of the corner of your eye.
Feeling brave, you dared to sneak closer, padding over until you were in the center of the shrine. You leaned in, searching the furs for confirmation that it was indeed Sukuna buried within them. He was snoring softly, his bedding of assorted skins rising and falling with his breath. It was almost cute, the way that enormous, frightening man was snuggled into the corner of the derelict shrine.
Deciding that you had tried your luck for long enough, you slipped out of the shrine and into the clearing before Sukuna could catch you staring.
⸙‧.⚘˖᯽˖⚘.‧⸙
The sun eventually broke through the clouds, slowly moving across the sky as the morning progressed. You enjoyed the mild weather, relishing how you could take things a little slower without Sukuna breathing down your neck. The clearing was still damp with morning dew when you had gotten started, and the lingering wetness and smell in the air told you it was bound to rain soon.
You took the opportunity to try on the tunic and trousers Sukuna had brought back. They fit well, though they were slightly oversized, and the material was of higher quality than anything you would have secured for yourself. When you donned the satchel, you found it hung quite loose at your hip, but stayed secure at your thigh with the aid of a buckle you had found hidden within. You found yourself imagining Sukuna going out of his way to acquire the items he had brought back, wondering if he had planned to bring back all that he did, or if it had been something he decided on in the moment. The thought stoked a strange feeling in you, one that you couldn't quite identify.
You felt a shift in the clearing when Sukuna woke up. The dark, suffocating presence was something to which you had grown accustomed, a powerful aura that dominated the area he had claimed as his own domain. You were evaluating the depleted stores of dried reeds, trying to estimate when more would need to be acquired if they continued to be used at the current rate.
It didn’t startle you when Sukuna grabbed you, but he himself seemed surprised.
“What are you doing, woman?” He grumbled, eyeing you with greater suspicion than he had in a few weeks.
“I am…preparing to work?” You tried.
He hummed pensively, looking between you and the bundle of reeds in your arms.
“This can wait. Today, your work is in the wood.”
You were unsure exactly what Sukuna had planned when he approached you with several bundles of thin, black rope. The fiber it was woven from was incredibly fine, thousands of individual strands wrapped tightly together, the ends whipped with red thread. There were two, tiny crotal bells fastened to each end of the lengths of rope, their delicate sound barely reaching your ear.
“Hold still.”
Sukuna took one rope and doubled it at its middle, then wrapped it around your waist, running the ends through the gap between the ropes and tightening it until it held fast. He paid little attention to you or your comfort, bringing the rope around you several more times, using the same simple knot to secure each loop. The feeling of it was hypnotizing, the rhythmic vibration as the rope was pulled through and the quiet tinkle of the bells soothed the anxiety that came with Sukuna’s touch.
Your mind quieted as he continued, and you became a passive observer to the experience. When a length of Sukuna’s rope ran short, he tied it off, then resumed the process with a new one. He worked carefully and methodically, focusing intently on each detail of his knots, and you came to anticipate the steady feeling of his hands brushing against you while he perfected the work. It lulled you into a state you had rarely achieved since coming to the clearing, a relaxation that was not dissimilar to the spiritual high sometimes granted by the stars.
By the time he was nearly through the small pile of ropes, you felt as if you were standing in the space between sleeping and being awake.
A sharp pull roused you, and your eyes focused to see Sukuna standing before you, tying the ends of the last rope around his own waist. The work done on himself was shoddy compared to the elaborate design that had been tied onto you. After a few simple knots, Sukuna decided he was finished, and he stepped away to assess the length of the loose rope between you. He could only get around a score's worth paces from you before the rope pulled taut. Sukuna took an additional step backward, causing you to be pulled toward him. Your many bells jingled as you stumbled forward, the sound and sudden movement fully breaking you out of your trance.
Sukuna led you to the edge of the clearing, stopping in front of the most defined trail on the perimeter.
“You walk ahead.” Sukuna grunted. “I will tell you which way to go.” He tugged on the rope that connected you once more, ensuring it was properly attached, then motioned with his head for you to start moving.
The relaxed feeling that had been lingering in your body evaporated, the fear of the forest instilled in you since before you could properly walk it rising within you. Your hesitation did not go unnoticed.
“Woman.” Sukuna’s annoyance was palpable. “I thought you knew the name Ryomen Sukuna.”
“I surely do.” You nodded.
“Then you should know that no creature in this cursed wood stands against me.” He asserted. “Walk.”
The trail had a well defined border even as it led you deeper into the forest, something you had rarely witnessed on your own journeys into the wilderness. Sukuna moved behind you with predatory silence, which might have unnerved you if you weren't so committed to depending on him if trouble arose.
You had not ever seen Sukuna interact with another being. Every animal he brought back was already dead, and up until he had returned with staples of civilization, you assumed he just killed everything he met. The possibility that he had murdered the former owner of your outfit was one to which you remained deliberately ignorant. Imagining Sukuna bartering for anything was a preferable fantasy.
The forest was lively that day; there were many small creatures going about their business, stirring the idle magic that coated everything in the deeper parts of the wood. Small bands of songbirds fluttered through the underbrush, chirping and singing to one another as they went.
A tug on your rope startled you.
“We turn here.” Sukuna pointed to a game trail that led into a dense thicket.
“Off the main trail?” You asked nervously.
“It is good enough for the animals.” Sukuna said plainly. “Keep moving, woman. Daylight will not wait.”
Though you nearly ran into several spiderwebs, the thin trail was surprisingly free of magical distraction. The area it led to was small, but it provided a perfect place for many kinds of herbs to grow. There was variable shade and the soil thrummed with the forest's power, giving rise to a healthy variety of potential plants both ordinary and magical to choose from.
It became clear that you were here to gather herbs for Sukuna’s tea. Sukuna didn't seem to have many preferences, his only request being that you abstain from making use of liquorice, so you settled on something you would have made for yourself.
Sukuna had not explicitly stated that the satchel he had brought back was for you, but he also had not said anything when he noticed you had strapped it to yourself and made use of it. It was stuffed full of clippings and leaves by the time Sukuna decided it was time to return to the clearing. You were practically skipping the whole way back, overly pleased with your haul simply because it was your own.
Sukuna set you up by the shrine, where you spent the rest of the available daylight sorting through what you had gathered.
That night, Sukuna did not leave.
The man had grown restless as the day progressed, patrolling the rim of the clearing as dusk settled over the forest. He paced endlessly near the edge closest to the fire pit, eyes fixed on the void. There was tension in the way he held himself, every muscle coiled in anticipation, as if he was waiting for something to happen.
You were at your place by the fire, making a point to busy yourself with exactly what you had been assigned so that you would not be scolded by Sukuna. He had actually growled at you when you got up to retrieve kindling, herding you back over to where you belonged before bringing you an armful of sticks, glaring at you as he threw them down.
This side of Sukuna was interesting. He had never come off as particularly territorial to you, at least not so openly. He had always exuded a subtle, unwavering confidence, a knowledge that lower beings would not dare to test the invisible boundaries of his patience.
Sukuna finally settled after the moon had risen, though his mood was still noticeably poor. He was twitchy and irritable, and he snapped at you several times over things that he had never mentioned before.
The meal that evening was light, made up of starchy roots and nuts that Sukuna had brought back some days before and a bundle of greens that you had snagged while walking the trail back. It was significantly less rich than every meal you had been provided since being brought to live in the clearing, but it was infinitely more satisfying in that you had been partially responsible for procuring it.
You deliberately got ahead of Sukuna’s mood, making it obvious that you were busying yourself with preparing tea for him. After selecting an aliquot of the herbs you had gathered, you retrieved the teapot, turning it in your hands.
“This teapot is quite nice, but I fear it may crack under the strain of water made hot enough for tea.” You advised.
“It will not break.” Sukuna assured you. “The vessel is enchanted, witch. Can you not tell?”
You looked closely at the pot, eyes scanning over the fine enamel design. It looked exceptionally normal to you, though that could have been because you were accustomed to seeing all manner of goods imbued with magical power.
“Ah, I see now.” You lied. “I did not notice before.”
Sukuna raised a brow at that, looking you over skeptically. It was only then that you wondered what the punishment might be for being blatantly untruthful. Whatever his thoughts on your response, the moment passed without incident, and you returned to fussing with the teapot.
The tea you made was particularly fragrant, a minty, floral smell that reminded you of home. Before you had the chance to taste it, Sukuna snatched the pot from you. He poured a strange powder into the brew, then served himself before pouring some for you. You tried the beverage, mostly because it had been offered to you, barely able to keep the complete disgust off your face when the liquid hit your tongue. It was unfathomably bitter, and whatever powder Sukuna had used had failed to properly dissolve, making it slightly gritty.
You glanced at Sukuna, who at least seemed to be enjoying himself, though you weren’t sure if it was because he was pleased with the tea or your reaction to it. Swallowing with a grimace, you looked into your cup and wondered if it might be easier to drink what remained all at once.
The rest of the evening passed quietly. Sukuna let you take over serving the tea, and though he did not comment on how you never refreshed your own cup, you could sense that he was amused each time you attempted to sip the concoction. You were able to finish what you had been given, though you were unsure if you would be able to manage the feat with any regularity.
The fire was burning low before Sukuna addressed you again.
“There are no bones to bury, so you will not need to stray far from the fire tonight, yes?”
You looked up at Sukuna, finding that for a man who had sounded so uninterested, he looked a beast that was anything but.
“No, I suppose not.” You agreed.
Sukuna trailed behind you as you found a suitable spot to pray, loitering much closer than he ever had for your spiritual practices. He would huff when you strayed further than whatever boundaries he had privately decided on, though he refrained from actually forbidding you from going a particular direction.
You chose a spot that was both just outside the light of the fire and the shadow of the shrine, settling for the little privacy the space offered. The session was not incredibly productive. You had trouble concentrating knowing that Sukuna was looming a few paces away, and the stars were hard to see through the dense cloud cover that had begun to gather. Muttering your prayers, you did what was essentially the bare minimum before allowing Sukuna to lead you back to the shrine for the night.
The next morning, Sukuna was in better spirits—at least, to the degree that could be said of that irascible man. He was eager to rise, waking with the sun as he usually did, and was even more eager to begin working.
He left you that evening without a second glance, vigor in his step as he made for the forest. Sukuna’s return to his usual demeanor gave you comfort; it had been troubling when he had forgone his nocturnal voyage the night before, and his unusual attitude had left you with a sense of unease.
Though you would not say you ever felt truly safe, his preoccupation had made it more difficult for you to feel secure. His oscillation between absolute confidence in the forest and bristling agitation in the clearing had concerned you. If something put Sukuna on edge, that something went doubly for you. Sukuna was not the type to explain himself, which had left you feeling helpless and afraid.
Sukuna’s return was remarkably quick that night, though the sight of him was far from relieving. Slung over his enormous shoulders, was the fresh carcass of a doe, its neck twisted at an unnatural angle. There was a wild look in his eye, a feral smile stretched over his lips. A frightening aura surrounded him, something familiar that you had not witnessed since your very first meeting.
Sukuna approached the fire pit, allowing the doe to fall from his back when he was a few paces away, the body landing with a heavy thud. He left you alone with the deer for a moment, returning with tools for dressing. Rolling the doe onto her back, he took a sharp, flint knife and carefully slit her belly.
Sukuna was typically reserved when processing an animal, dutiful even. This was decidedly different. His aura felt erratic. The derangement that was always hidden somewhere deep within him had surfaced. You had to look away as he began removing her organs; his enthusiasm for the process was making you queasy.
The sound of a sickening crack made you jump. You glanced over, only to regret daring to do so when you realized it had been the sound of Sukuna breaking the deer’s chest open with his bare hands. You corrected your gaze just in time to miss him doing the same to the hipbone, exhaling shakily as you fixed your eyes on the fire.
It took less time than you expected, but still much more than you wanted. Sukuna dressed the doe expertly, artfully carving meat from bone with little effort despite the somewhat primitive tools he had at his disposal.
Dutifully, you tended the fire while Sukuna saw to butchering the carcass, keeping yourself occupied with the task at hand. His mood had evened out somewhat with time, his energy quieting as he completed his own methodical work. There was still a tangible tension, a band pulled taut within him, ready to snap and reignite the fire of his fervor.
You should have been starving by the time Sukuna began cooking some of the venison, but your appetite had evaporated as your mind involuntarily wandered to the disassembled doe beside you. You had not risked chancing a look at her face, too afraid that you would find your doe’s dead eyes staring back at you.
Foolishly, you thought that if you simply kept quiet and busy, Sukuna would not address you. You ignored him when he began to eat, prodding the fire and pretending that you had not noticed what he was doing.
“The taste is good, much better than expected.” Sukuna commented.
You hummed, eyes flicking up in acknowledgement before you looked away again, wondering if you could manage to escape this meal so casually.
“It went quickly, I was not cruel in my execution.” He added.
“A kindness.”
Sukuna fell quiet again, though you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you. He continued eating, the sound of him tearing flesh with his teeth somehow louder than it had ever been. The space around the fire felt thick with anticipation, a deadly potential lacing the air.
You wondered if this was the same way the doe had felt before Sukuna struck.
“The hour grows late.” Sukuna said it much too softly for the degree of threat lurking beneath his words.
“Would you like me to brew your tea?” You asked, avoiding his eye as you reached for the pot.
“I would like you to eat, woman.” Sukuna growled, snatching your outreached arm.
The tension you had been feeling around you gave all at once. Sukuna was standing over you before you could properly react, your arm still ensnared, held high up above you in his huge hand.
“Why do you refuse?” Sukuna demanded.
“It—it is unnecessary.” You replied.
“Unnecessary?” Sukuna scoffed, squeezing your forearm harder. “You have taken to lying to me, witch. Try again.”
“I regret the death of such a creature.” The mounting pain in your arm was becoming too much to bear; you feared Sukuna would not hesitate to break you over a petty display of disobedience.
“Closer.” Sukuna remarked. “Again.”
You did not want to reveal your affinity for the deer. Though not explicitly forbidden, such attachments were easily exploited, but it was becoming apparent that you were being left with little choice.
Sukuna was growing impatient.
“I—there is a doe that wanders nearby.” You cried. “I would not wish to eat her.”
Tears welled in your eyes, the product of your terror and pained confession. Sukuna released you, and for a moment, you swore you saw the slightest flicker of sympathy pass over his expression.
The moment quickly passed. He looked down at you as you cradled your arm, a grim satisfaction in his eyes, a cruel determination in the set of his jaw.
“I suspected as much.” Sukuna's mouth was twisted into a cruel smirk.
“I—” You started.
“Quiet.” Sukuna growled. “I have already told you; your weakness disgusts me, and your insolence tries what little patience I possess.”
You kept your mouth closed, your lips pressed tightly together.
Sukuna looked to the fire for a moment, lost in thought.
“We will correct this.” He said decidedly, retrieving the remaining venison and bringing it over to where you sat. You looked up at him, eyes wide, dread bubbling in your gut as he offered it to you.
You couldn’t help it. Unable to suppress the thought of it being your doe, the sight of the meat made you gag, much to Sukuna’s displeasure.
He dropped to the ground, catching you off guard and giving him ample opportunity to pull you into his lap. He barred his arm around your body to secure you, and though your legs flailed in your panic, he seemed to only be encouraged by your physical protest.
Sukuna arranged your body against his with little effort. He positioned you at a slight angle, using one of his legs to prevent you from kicking yours. You knew where things were going, but you still couldn’t help squirming when Sukuna brought the venison up to your mouth.
“This is the price of my mercy.” Sukuna urged, pressing the warm meat against your lips. “Eat, woman, and I will consider your slights forgiven.”
Sukuna’s unyielding insistence provoked the tears you had been holding back to fall. You were frustrated and furious, bound by your own powerlessness, shaking in the grasp imprisoning you. A whimper caught in your throat before a sob broke through, your lips parting for just a moment—
Sukuna took the opening, shoving the venison past your teeth before clapping a hand over your mouth, fingers gripping your cheek, his pinky pressed into your neck.
The rich flavor of the meat coated your tongue, a smokey, gamey taste. You swallowed the bile that rose in your throat, forcing yourself to chew. It was somewhat tough, and it took a monumental effort to actually get it down, but you managed. Gasping, you tried to breathe through the experience, making a conscious effort to push the troubling thoughts from your head and simply get through it without pushing Sukuna further.
You didn’t intend to struggle, but the sight of Sukuna’s hand bringing more venison toward you broke your focus. There wasn’t any give in Sukuna’s hold on you. You wiggled desperately to no avail, only earning annoyed grunts from Sukuna, and a sharp pain in your side as he squeezed the breath from your lungs.
The meal continued like that, one unwilling mouthful to the next. Angry tears stained your cheeks, sobs catching in your throat as you pushed bite after bite down. Your primary emotion became indignance, a righteous anger pointed at the man pushing you through the experience, a fire cutting through the icy nausea in your belly.
When you had finished it all, Sukuna released you with a grunt, pushing you off his lap and into the dirt. He stood, crossing his arms and staring down at you as you focused on preventing yourself from vomiting.
“These bones are needed—you will not bury them.” Sukuna’s tone was cold and detached.
“I—okay.” You agreed, stifling your sniffles.
“You may still thank her.” He added gruffly, turning away from you to return to working with the deer’s remains.
Realizing that you were being dismissed for your prayers, you got up hurriedly, making haste to the nearest suitable spot. The stars blinked at you, blurry lights struggling through the cloudy haze and the residual wetness in your swollen eyes.
⸙‧.⚘˖᯽˖⚘.‧⸙
The next morning, you found Sukuna soaking the doe’s hide at the edge of the clearing. The creature’s brain sat in a bowl nearby, the macabre sight of it turning your empty stomach.
“It was not yours.” Sukuna glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
“What?”
“The doe.” He huffed. “It was not yours.”
Though it did little to soothe you, you knew it was the closest thing to an apology Sukuna was willing to bestow upon you.
“The forest is where the fae are most powerful, dear child, but that power is as wild as the earth itself.” Your grandmother explained.
She was working on her embroidery, a threaded field of wildflowers that she planned to patch onto your finest dress. There was an important upcoming holy day for the followers of the stars, one that even some of the townsfolk observed.
“They must be formidable.” You mused, watched her needle work through the scrap of linen.
“Some are indeed formidable.” Your grandmother hummed. “Truly taming such power is nigh impossible, but it can still be managed by those who understand the way.”
“The way is quite mysterious.”
“Yes, child.” Your grandmother mused. “That is the lesson of this holy day. The way cannot be taught, only learned, it can never be bought, only earned, and it is unsalvageable unless totally burned.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. How can something be salvaged from ash?”
Your grandmother only smiled, tying the final knot on her piece.
⸙‧.⚘˖᯽˖⚘.‧⸙
You worried the edge of the embroidered patch between your fingers, running them over the finely stitched edges of the patch, the protective border of thread worn soft from years of handling.
Sukuna had been softer with you since that night. He was preserving the rest of the meat, and though he had partaken on occasion, he had not forced you to eat any more. He could see that you were wary of him, that you had flinched at his touch when he tied you to him and took you into the woods. The fear that you had rid yourself of over the course of the last several weeks had returned, and it left you feeling lonely and afraid.
It was possibly the gentlest reminder you could have received.
The man you served was far from benevolent. His kindness was practical, and for you to have interpreted it as anything but was foolish.
There was precious little left of the life you had before coming to live with Sukuna, but that only made everything you had of more use to you. You had stuffed your pockets with a few of your most treasured items as everything else burned around you.
The patch embroidered by your grandmother, a knife of bone, your mother’s necklace, a spool of enchanted thread, a wooden carving of a horse, an ossified egg, and a silver ring with no stone in the setting.
Of everything you had collected and hoarded, as well as everything those who came before you had possessed and left behind, those seven, small things were all that remained. You had already foolishly wasted your only vial of stardust, and the last falling star you had witnessed was likely in the unreachable depths of the forest.
The decision to summon the well was a difficult one.
The last time you had called on the wishing well, it had not appeared, something that had not happened to you in many years. Though you could not be sure, you suspected that the failure of your power was related to the last service you had tried to provide.
The sacrifice had felt wrong, as if there was something off about the dead foal. At the time, you had thought it might just be the sheer weight of the wish that caused the ritual to fail, but now you had a feeling that it would have been impossible to succeed under the circumstances.
It had taken you a while to decide what you desired.
There were many things for which you might ask. Safe passage out of the Forest of the Forgotten. A spot at a familiar hearth. Freedom.
All the things that seemed obvious were too great in expense or too ambiguous in interpretation.
If you were going to convince the well that you deserved to be back in its good graces, you were going to need to orchestrate something that was guaranteed to work.
The ritual to summon the well felt comfortable, something familiar after weeks of adjustment to your new circumstances.
A harsh wind came in from the west, blowing through the trees and into the clearing. The edges of the patch fluttered in the strong breeze, a fledgling begging to take flight. There was a low hum echoing around you, and the smell of incense and ash rose from the very earth beneath you. You closed your eyes, focusing your mind and your magic on your intentions, and requested the well’s presence.
All you needed was a sign.
⸙‧.⚘˖᯽˖⚘.‧⸙
The well did not come.
It was a few days later that you woke in the night to a fierce ache in your belly, a sensation that radiated into your lower back and down your legs.
Hissing through the pain, you rolled yourself over, hand groping for the small basket of linens that had been waiting in your corner since your last bleed ended. You padded out into the stillness of the night, careful to not make any sound as you left, the full moon providing you just enough light to assist you through the shadows.
You drew just enough water to clean away any blood that might have escaped you. You felt unusually exposed in your nudity, though you had come to feel uneasy anytime you were alone in the clearing. You washed off the small amount of blood clinging to your thighs, fixing your clean cloth between your legs and hurrying back to the shrine, eager to try and sleep through the pain in your womb.
The silence in the shrine was almost eerie, a quiet that laid over everything like spidersilk, tense and telling. The decision to feign ignorance was instinctual; something within you knew that your acknowledgement was the weight that would set the fragile peace off-balance.
After some time, the tension in the room waned, and you dared to peek through your lashes and look into the shrine. The full moon had begun to set, and the very little light it provided had all but disappeared completely.
All that you caught was a spark of crimson, a quick glimpse of color in the far corner.
Red eyes watching you in the darkness.
The following night, Sukuna interrupted you while you were in the process of brewing his tea.
“This water was drawn this morning—fetch fresh water from the well.” Sukuna demanded.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, suppressing a groan when the ache in your belly grew as you stood. This bleed was particularly heavy, and your mood had been severely affected by your symptoms. You took your time, allowing yourself to breathe through the irritation you felt, quietly reveling in the revenge that was depriving Sukuna of his tea for a few moments more.
There wasn’t much else you could do about Sukuna being Sukuna.
On your return, the flash in his eyes told you that this was more serious than the nameless master of the clearing’s usual antics. He tracked you as you approached, eyes fixed on your face, his expression intense though unreadable.
“Your cloth.” Sukuna grunted, watching you set the vessel of fresh water beside him.
You blinked at him as you straightened up, unsure what he meant.
“My cloth?”
“Yes, your cloth.” Sukuna huffed. “The one lodged between your legs, woman. Give it to me.”
“It—it is dirty.” You argued, taking an involuntary step backward, an odd sensation coursing through you as you watched Sukuna’s eyes darken at your quiet refusal.
“Do you believe I am unaware of this?” Sukuna spat.
“No—no, I only—” You stumbled over your words, swallowing your explanation as Sukuna stood.
“Do you fear sullying your hands?” He towered over you, one of his hands winding itself in your skirts. “Shall I retrieve it for you, woman?” He grinned, his teeth gleaming in the firelight.
The implication froze you on the spot, your breath catching in your chest as you involuntarily imagined his hand between your thighs. Sukuna tugged at your clothes, indicating that he intended to make good on his threat if you were not quick to comply.
“I—I apologize. Allow me to recover it for you.”
Sukuna hummed, releasing you. When you tried to flee to somewhere more private, however, his hand snatched your wrist before you could take a single step.
“You can do it here.” He said pointedly. “You have wasted enough time already.”
You shuddered, the cruel edge to his words reminding you that he was merely tolerant of your small shows of disobedience, never ignorant.
Mercifully, he allowed you to turn you back to him. You lifted up the front of your skirts, grateful that you had chosen to wear your dress rather than your trousers that day. Pulling the cloth from between your legs, you took care not to look too closely at it; the sheer embarrassment of what you were doing was already great enough.
You held out the bloodied linen, face burning as he took it into his hand. You hadn’t given much thought to the end of it, having gotten caught up in shame and anticipation of what Sukuna was asking of you.
Sukuna cradled the soiled cloth in his hand, reaching for the teapot you had left to warm by the fire. He deposited the cloth directly into the pot, pouring some of the fresh water inside before returning it to its spot by the fire. Settling back into his spot, he lounged against his stump before bringing his bloodied hand to his mouth.
He drew his tongue over his palm, licking away the blood—your blood—ignoring the small gasp you let out at the sight of him. Sukuna took great care in his bizarre act, tongue languidly pushing between his fingers before he took each one into his mouth to suck them clean.
You stood there, transfixed, finding yourself unable to move as you tried to process what Sukuna was doing. You understood him to have unsavory tastes, but this was far beyond the realm of your expectations. The memory of your last bleed surfaced, the understanding that the linens you had used might have ended up in Sukuna’s mouth barely registering before you next realized those same cloths were bound to return to the well of blood between your legs.
When Sukuna was finally finished, he looked to you, pupils blown wide in carmine eyes. He cocked his head toward your side of the fire, indicating that you were to take your place.
For a woman of water, it was most natural to take the path of least resistance, so it was unsurprising when you found yourself returning to your nightly duties without offering commentary on what had occurred.
The temptation to look into the teapot was strong, but you averted your eyes expertly, filling the mouth with herbs and replacing the lid before setting the pot aside to steep.
Sukuna was quiet, though you could feel the rising tension within him, an anticipation you had come to know well during your time with the master of the clearing. He had a habit of waiting impatiently, though arguably politely, making his irritation known without pressing it on you.
You served his tea with marked detachment, refilling his cup as he emptied it until the pot ran dry. Sukuna's mood improved as he drank, something which you found equally soothing and disturbing.
As you left the fire to pray, Sukuna called out to you.
“If I find you resistant tomorrow, I shall not hesitate to take what I am owed straight from the source.”
It was dark; dim, broken beams of moonlight were your only aid in the darkness. The air was hot and thick with a familiar scent, something metallic and animal and sickly sweet.
It smelled like blood.
You were naked, your back flush against the hard earthen floor of the shrine. Sweat dripped from your temple, your entire body damp with exertion. Your muscles were exhausted, your body trembling weakly as your chest heaved.
Between your thighs, there was a head of dark hair.
The sound was primal, whines and moans that were met with muffled grunts and pleased rumbles.
His eyes met yours, rubies flashing in the full moon's light.
Fervently, desperately, something warm and wet was working itself over your aching cunt. You gasped as it pushed itself inside you, forcing its way in deeper as you clenched around it.
Strong hands kept your legs open. There was a thumb at your clit, brushing rhythmically against that slicked pearl of flesh. You felt the tension in you poised to snap, a basin ready to overflow—
He removed his mouth from you, sharp claws digging into soft flesh in warning.
“Keep your eyes open, woman.” He growled. “Bear witness to the consequences of your defiance.”
He ran his tongue over the pointed edge of his teeth, licking the blood away before he slid his canines against your inner thigh.
As you met his gaze again, he pressed his lips to you, kissing you where you bled for him.
⸙‧.⚘˖᯽˖⚘.‧⸙
You woke with a gasp, your breath coming heavy, your heart pounding against the cage of your chest. The intensity of the pain in your belly was dulled, the fading waves of euphoria washing over you.
The same dream came again that night, and then again the night after that. Each iteration of the dream was more vivid than the last, and each morning you awoke to greater lingering physical sensation.
On the fifth morning, you woke to find your hands reaching downward, fingers outstretched as if to catch hold of the owner of the mouth that had been tormenting you. You groaned, rolling onto your side and curling into yourself, covering your face with your arms.
Sukuna’s words haunted you each evening. You wished you could let them go and forget, but each evening the memory was refreshed by the new addition to Sukuna's tea ritual.
I shall not hesitate to take what I am owed straight from the source.
He had not mean it that way. Sukuna's whims were often sadistic, and almost always selfish in some way or another. There wasn't a chance in all the heavens that he would do something like that with you.
Reaffirming that did not make the dreams any less intense, and it certainly didn't make it possible to keep them out of your thoughts when Sukuna licked your blood from his lips each evening.
Sukuna was gone for an unusually long amount of time the night after your bleed ended. Though his longer voyages made you nervous, it was a welcome break from his presence after everything that had happened over the past few weeks.
The well's absence troubled you greatly, almost as much as Sukuna’s behavior. He had always been strange, off in the way that the fae could be, unpredictable in the way that the nameless were, but there seemed to be direction to the activities he added to his routine. Living with Sukuna was not as horrible as you had expected initially, though you were unsure how much of that feeling was born of your lack of agency. It was difficult for you to tell if you would choose this life if you had other options.
The reality was that you were powerless to escape him as things were.
You stared up at the stars, wondering if they were even listening anymore.
Anticipation came with the rise of the new moon.
“You remember the rules, woman.” Sukuna said gruffly as he took your vial from you. “Tend the fire, I will return with the morning.”
You had not forgotten the unsettling creature that had visited you last month, but you felt more assured because of Sukuna’s confidence. You already had an appropriate amount of firewood nearby, having elected to make things easier on yourself should anything strange happen while you were alone.
The sound of something approaching the clearing still brought with it a sense of intense fear. You kept your eyes on the fire, having already decided that ignoring the creature was the best course of action.
Despite your lack of acknowledgement, the visitor still addressed you.
“He has gone far away again.” A familiar, soft voice rang out over the clearing.
You couldn’t resist the weight of your own curiosity.
The being waiting at the edge of the forest appeared far less disturbing than the last time it had come to tempt you.
She looked more human, at least from the waist up. Below her navel, her form became like that of a deer. Her unusual, furry legs terminated in hooves, which she occasionally stomped into the ground as you looked her over. It was as if she was wearing a strange costume, one that gave her lower half the appearance of an animal, much like the faun-folk you had seen in the books your grandmother had kept. Her face was pretty, her big, brown eyes framed with thick lashes, and her straight, brown hair was cropped at the shoulder, the front of it cut to frame her forehead and face.
Though her form had changed, you recognized her immediately.
“You should go, deer woman.” You urged, looking back at the fire to signal your disinterest. “The master of this clearing would not hesitate to slay you.”
“Do you feel yourself exempt from his wrath?” She asked. “That man is not so merciful; you would be safer if you left and learned the forest’s ways.”
“What is your name, visitor?”
The pitiful look she threw you was one that solicited your sympathy.
After your last encounter, you had begun to speculate about the deer woman and her identity. You had suspected that she might be more or less human, though her condition and Sukuna’s response to her presence informed you that she was nameless. It made sense that Sukuna would be wary of the unnamed, if only because they were a threat to his possession of you.
“I cannot come with you, deer woman.” You asserted, throwing a stick into the fire. “But I hope you regain your name.”
“I would not take your name, witch.” The woman insisted, leaning against a tree and plucking a leaf from one of its lower branches with her hand. “I know it is not yours to give.” She stuffed the leaf into her mouth, grinding it between her teeth.
“What other reason do you have to seek my company?” You asked. You knew that to question the forest and its inhabitants was a pointless endeavor. The nameless woman was probably more mad than sane, but her increased lucidity was intriguing to you. Though you were not so senseless as to believe her outright, her answer piqued your already rampant curiosity.
“It is easier to remember around you.” She shrugged. “If you come with me, I am sure I will know myself again.”
“Ah.” You nodded. “It is unfortunate that we cannot help one another.”
The nameless woman frowned at you.
“Indeed.”
⸙‧.⚘˖᯽˖⚘.‧⸙
Sukuna’s return brought with it a greater anxiety than the deer woman’s appearance. You could sense his unrest as he settled at the fire, his demeanor even more prickly than usual. This time he bore foreign fruits, a large hunk of salt, and a small wooden box carved of heartwood. He handed you the box, which you found contained your vial, once again filled to the brim with spring water.
You tried to act as if everything was normal, though you could sense Sukuna was not planning to do the same.
“What did you see?” Sukuna asked, cracking open a large green fruit with his hands, revealing the juicy, deep red flesh inside.
You paused. It was only for a moment, but you were sure Sukuna took note.
“Nothing unusual.” You replied.
It didn’t feel like a lie, though you had a feeling Sukuna would feel differently. It was true in a way; you did not think that the appearance of a nameless woman in the Forest of the Forgotten was unusual.
Sukuna smiled.
“I see.”
The next day, Sukuna seemed to be preparing for another long journey. He spent a significant portion of the afternoon making himself ready, busying himself to the point that you were left to your own devices for a portion of the evening.
You spent that time on the large rock by the well, pretending to meditate while you considered all that had happened over the last day.
Though unpleasant, the previous night had been informative. You had begun to question the presence of your doe in the area after the first appearance of the deer woman, and though you were reluctant initially to make a connection between the two, it was clear they were the same creature. The nameless woman was unwell. The unnamed could sometimes become so deeply afflicted by their condition that it would begin to affect their physical forms, though you had never before witnessed such a thing yourself.
It was as if thinking of the nameless woman summoned her.
She appeared shortly after Sukuna's departure. She looked to be an ordinary deer that night, but you knew it was her. The deer woman wandered around the edge of the clearing, glancing at you occasionally as if she had said something and was expecting a response.
You spoke to her, reminding her that she was at risk and that you would not follow her, but she seemed content to linger anyway.
He took you both by surprise.
A roar echoed across the clearing, startling you so badly that you jumped to your feet. You saw Sukuna tearing across the clearing at inhuman speed, a terrifying aura about him. The deer woman was already fleeing, but Sukuna made ground much faster than she took it.
“Sukuna, wait!” You shouted.
It was only for a moment, but you saw his head turn your way before he bounded off into the darkness of the forest.
⸙‧.⚘˖᯽˖⚘.‧⸙
It wasn't long before Sukuna reappeared. There was a blatant satisfaction about him, a thick smugness that settled over the clearing. You could feel it in the air, a potent, animal assertion of power that came off of the man before you in waves.
He tossed a small boar down at his feet, making quick work of preparing it, placing the prime cuts over the fire as he worked.
The looks he threw you were concerning. Sukuna was buzzing with manic energy, his mood radiating off him as he worked. You felt a sickening anticipation building, as if he was high on the night’s events and still craving more.
That was fine with you. Though experience had taught you there was little point in fighting Sukuna, that did not stop you from wanting to do so.
You ate in silence, pushing yourself through the experience if only to deprive Sukuna of the ability to force you to partake.
Things finally boiled over once the meal was finished.
“Did you enjoy it?” Sukuna asked, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.
“No.”
Standing before Sukuna could excuse you, you didn’t make it more than a few steps from the fire before Sukuna stopped you. He stood over you, exerting a pressure that would typically make you submit without question.
“Be grateful, woman.” Sukuna scoffed. “I have brought you neither deer nor man.”
The acknowledgement of your private fears broke something in you. Burning anger, emotion born of smoldering ashes that Sukuna had fed with each violation. Every display of dominance, every assertion of power, every reminder that he saw himself as an insurmountable power—all of it had caught and grown into indiscriminate flame.
“You killed her though, did you not?” Your voice trembled, not from fear, but rather rage long repressed.
“I rid myself of the problem.” Sukuna sneered.
“Problem?” You gaped. “All she wanted was comfort, some solace in this damned wood—”
“And it would have led you to your death in search of that illusion. Your solace is here, woman.”
“She did not know what she was doing.” You insisted, crossing your arms.
“The nameless are a threat regardless of intent. They are desperate, dangerous, and unpredictable creatures—they are fickle as the wind.” Sukuna argued. “That creature was so far gone that it could not hold human form, there is no way to know if its mind was intact.”
“You know what?” You were shaking, a wild, undampened spite heating your blood. “You're right. The nameless are unpredictable and dangerous.”
Sukuna blinked at you, as if he was initially unsure if you had meant to insult him or not.
“You would do best to hold your tongue, witch.” Sukuna warned.
His tone didn't deter you. If anything, it fanned the flames of your fury.
A wicked smile spread across your lips, every grievance you had so skillfully put to rest suddenly revived. You felt like you were burning, like you were still in the fire that took your cottage. Sukuna stood over you, using his size to remind you it was pointless to push against him, inching closer to you like he was preparing to pounce.
“Why?” You snapped. “What would you do? Push my face into the dirt until it becomes mud in my mouth? Make me believe I have committed unspeakable sins against the stars? Use my body for your perverse desires?”
Sukuna's kiss was not pleasant. It was raw and harsh and claiming, every bit a show of dominance as it was a show of passion. It was not an act of affection, but instead anger, something meant to remind you of your place beneath him.
He crushed his lips against yours, gripping your jaw in a way that forced it open so that he could slide his tongue inside. It felt like he wanted to consume you, like he was using this as an excuse to put something of you in his mouth.
When Sukuna finally broke away, it was difficult to tell if he was enraged or enthralled.
“I would rip your tongue from your mouth if you dared disrespect me like that again.” Sukuna hissed. “I do these things for your benefit as well; do not make me regret my foolish actions, ungrateful woman.”
Breath ragged, you glared up into Sukuna's eyes, daring him to make good on his threat. The tension hung there between you, fragile peace suspended on a thread of starlight.
Sukuna lunged.
Instead of maiming you, Sukuna picked you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You started screaming, your words lost to the feral fury beneath them. Beating your fists against Sukuna’s back, your fight was more about making your displeasure known to him than anything else.
Sukuna dragged you all the way into the shrine, throwing you into his hoard of furs, bearing down on you before you were able to orient yourself. The smell of him was everywhere, spicy and earthy, the scent of something wild and strong.
“I had thought better of this.” Sukuna spat. “But it seems I have put it off for too long.”
He was kissing you again, his strong hands assured in their battle against your panicked limbs. When he finally yielded, you were so lightheaded that you almost couldn’t get your words out.
“Sukuna, stop—” You gasped. “I need—I can’t breathe—”
Sukuna did not stop, but he did give your mouth a break, kissing and nipping over your jaw down to your neck. He was thorough, finding the most sensitive points on your skin and honing in, making a point of giving attention to each spot that made you weak.
At some point, between nearly suffocating and losing the strength to be resistant, you started to enjoy the feeling. He didn't allow you to relax, however, sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder each time you went completely limp under him. The stimulation was overwhelming. You grew loud, whining and crying out as you tried to process what you were feeling. Yours was a body unused to the touch of others, especially after coming to live in the clearing, and your response seemed to only fuel the frenzy.
The efficiency with which Sukuna removed your clothes was startling. One moment, he was pulling at the lacing on your bodice, and by the next, you were completely bare beneath him.
He wasted no time on romantic gestures, grunting appreciatively as he wrenched your thighs apart, using his weight to pin you as he liked. There was something inquisitive about the way he drew his fingers over the slickness that had gathered at your entrance, a serious curiosity that morphed into something hungrier as he pushed one thick finger all the way inside you.
You arched beneath him, shuddering as he ground his palm against your center. A second finger prodded at you, stretching you open as it joined the first. Sukuna found a rhythm, his fingers curling inside you while he teased the swollen bud at your apex.
It felt good enough that you found yourself troubled. When your hands tried to grab at his, his correction was gentle but firm; both of your wrists were gathered in one of his hands and pressed against your bare chest. His eyes didn’t leave your cunt, gaze locked onto the place where you were leaking into his palm. The tension in your body felt too tightly wound, like it was closer to breaking than releasing.
You did break. You shattered beneath him, crying out as your body kicked and writhed in a flurry of pleasure.
“Greedy little quim.” Sukuna mused, his hand still guiding you through the ecstasy. “You always strive to take so little, woman; is this where your indulgence lies?”
“Ah—no—” You denied, though with the way your hips canted into Sukuna’s touch, even you weren’t quite sure anymore.
“No?” Sukuna hummed, irritated amusement passing over his face.
Whether or not Sukuna took your defiance as a challenge wasn't quite clear, though you were beginning to suspect there was a genuine need to ensure your satisfaction. You weren't given the chance to recover from your first high before Sukuna began pushing you toward your next.
The feeling built quickly, the warm coil inside you winding tighter and tighter with each drag of Sukuna's fingers. Over and over, he was as merciless in this pursuit as any other, the pads of his fingers pressing into your walls with devastating precision.
You keened when it hit, stronger this time than the last, feeling yourself clamp down on Sukuna's hand as he worked. The pulse of your cunt became the only thing you focus on, the release drowning you in an unfamiliar feeling. Sukuna withdrew his hand, licking the remnants of you from his fingers as he stared down at your naked form. You could feel yourself twitching around the newfound emptiness inside you, the pleasurable feeling building again just from the anticipation of his touch.
“You were so angry before, woman.” Sukuna mocked. “Is this what you needed to feel better?”
Though you didn’t want to prove him right, you were too caught up in your own bliss to tell him off.
You were still dazed when you noticed Sukuna removing his sirwal. The sight of him shocked you. You had seen men in such a state before, though those experiences had done nothing to prepare you for what was before you. He was proportional, which was to say that Sukuna was impossibly enormous. However, that was not what brought you out of your euphoric stupor.
There were two.
Twin cocks, thick and heavy, they hung partially suspended between his thighs, too weighty to raise themselves high. He gathered himself in one hand, using the other to lock your hips down, his intent visible in his gaze.
Eyes wide with panic, you started fighting, feet sliding uselessly through the furs as you attempted to escape.
“Oh, fuck—Sukuna, wait, please—” You pleaded. “I cannot—you're going to hurt me!”
You had not expected Sukuna to listen. If anything, you had feared your words might excite him.
Sukuna paused, frowning slightly as he looked at you. He examined you for a moment, taking in the bruises blooming on your skin, the fresh tear tracks on your cheeks, the way your chest heaved with your breath. His nostrils flared as he took in your continued resistance, his grip on you tightening painfully.
You screamed when he flipped you over, your mouth filling with fur as he pressed your face into his bedding. He shifted his hand to your upper back, using his weight to force you into a prone position, holding you down until you stopped struggling.
“Sukuna—Sukuna, please—” You whimpered, squeezing your legs together as tightly as you could as Sukuna lifted up your hips.
“Shh—” He shushed you, his thumb soothing over the small of your back as his fingers gripped tighter. You felt cool air hit your wet cunt, the fresh exposure making you shudder.
Sukuna adjusted himself over you, and for a moment every part of you clenched up, anticipating pain. Instead of agony, you felt Sukuna glide himself through the folds of you, slicking his lengths in your arousal before he pushed them between your thighs. From there, his pace was brutal, animalistic grunts leaving his lips with each harsh thrust. Occasionally, one of his heads would catch on your entrance, prompting you to squeal for mercy before he corrected himself and continued fucking your thighs.
Only when his hips began to stutter did you finally begin to consider the ways things might end. Sukuna slammed his hips into yours a final time, then pulled back, and you felt something hot hit your lower back.
Sukuna collapsed on top of you with a pleased groan, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest as he rolled onto his side, burying the two of you deep into his nest. The more you wiggled, the tighter his arms held you.
“Sleep, woman.” Sukuna mumbled against your hair. “If you are still angry when we wake, we can fight again.”
She stares at the void, and feels it stare back.
stare at the void by superheaven
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