in which ryomen sukuna has been banished to a pudding-like form and is prepared to wither away and die. only to be found in a gully and kidnapped by some whacko human.
content: SUKUNA POV, male!reader, sukuna x reader, blobkuna, slight canon divergent, sukuna’s name here is literally pou, reader is a zookeeper and an environment nut, blobkuna as a pet, paternal over him ngl, sukuna wants to live a peaceful life now he’s been defeated (canon accurate), blobkuna is a cat confirmed, really big manga spoilers, sukuna is unc, short as hell/one shot, reader has a toxic ex, implied/featured sex, sukuna will eat everything if unsupervised, regular ppl can’t see sukuna’s markings on a vessel but curses and sorcerers can, tsundere sukuna, blobkuna is not impressed by poor sex performance..
banner art: cogni_diss on ao3?? (that’s the only place i could find it lol)
dividers: thecutestgrotto and anitalenia
this whole charade began roughly two moons ago, from his approximations.
two months ago, a younger man entered a gully to clean out some remnants of trash from the environment, only to find a blob.
a flesh blob. a disgusting, twitchy, slimy heap the size of a fist, with one big eye and black stripes around its flesh-like exterior.
no sane person would touch that thing. most would scream and assume it was part of a human face that’s been chopped in half and mutilated. something.
no. this man picked the blob up, cooed at its disconcerted blinking, and took it home to warm it up on a faux fur blanket. for some reason.
and that blob was none other than the king of curses, disgraced one, and god amongst men, ryomen sukuna himself.
sukuna ended in this particular predicament after that showdown last december.
while being beaten by yuji itadori (he gagged a bit in his mouth at the memory) was especially humiliating, it was also a release. ryomen was no longer the strongest. he would wither away and reincarnate as something else. not this monstrous exterior with a path carved out for him by the disgusted faces of ancient sorcerers. yes, he’d reincarnate as a normal person and raise a child just like uraume—
no. before that grim-looking brat could deliver such a blow, sukuna got swept away. yes, seriously.
no living being, sorcerer or not, would survive consciously after being punched out of a vessel and becoming a little fleshy splotch of soul. none of them.
ryomen sukuna, as usual, seemed to be the exception. he lamented that fact deeply.
thus, his existence nearly concluded in a gully, dying excruciatingly slow of starvation, before you picked him up.
at-first, sukuna was particularly feral. after getting warmed up and rinsed, he bit at your fingertips and attempted to puncture the nerve in your wrist.
alas, his new toy-like teeth were far from sharp enough to inflict such lethal damage. it left tiny little indents that made you go ‘aww’ and pet him like it was cute.
disgusting. sukuna found you almost more insane than himself. what kind of delusional person finds a rock of flesh cute?? if he was a housecat, sure, but this? it was a whole new level of strange.
yet, you continued feeding him the ham from your sandwiches, bites of your beef.
you cut up one of your old shirts just to make him a little bed and blanket on the windowsill where he glared at passer-bys.
you even brought him grocery shopping in your shirt pocket sometimes, so he could express his likes or dislikes of your rotating meal planner.
after two months, you’d completely accepted him. sukuna was astounded.
it was the little things. incorporating meat into every meal, ranting about your days at work, even just complaining about the state of the world.
worst of all, you’d given him an affectionate little nickname.
he had no idea what ‘pou’ meant. he assumed it had something to do with his jiggly form. maybe a foreign word for ‘blob’? he did not know.
it reminded him of those sickeningly ‘silly’ words lovers refer to each other by. like bubs or hunk. gross.
and so, his cycle of life was intercepted by an idiotic human who apparently cared too much about everything.
including the demon king they were unknowingly housing, pou.
you talked.. a lot. sukuna considered crawling into your mouth and taking over you as a vessel, considering yapping was all you used such a fortunate position for.
he did not, because he had instead resigned himself to ‘peaceful end-of-life’ brain.
it was a nice brain. one where yuji itadori did not exist. additionally, he had what-was-basically-his-mother-if-she-had-survived-past-labour serving him at all times.
it wasn’t so bad after all, the normal (by ryomen’s standards) life.
a kind end to his otherwise bloody narrative.
“one of the parrots tried to eat a plastic bottle cap today. it just goes to show how unforgivable littering is.”
oh, and you were still there, too. narrating every useless moment of your meaningless life like he cared.
sukuna had not yet learned how to tune you out. though, he soon would, he swore on his existent sanity.
“i don’t get ‘er, though.. there were seeds literally sprinkled everywhere else.” there was a pause in your incessant chatter as you pushed the meat sizzling in the pan around with a metal spatula. “birds can be pretty dumb.”
as if you had anything to teach the king of curses. it was laughable.
“some species are trying really hard to lose to evolution, i swear.”
something smart out of your mouth, for once. though, ryomen was thinking more along the lines of ‘humans and curses’ instead of simply ‘birds’.
sukuna watched the steak slide around the greased pan before he crawled a bit closer, nearly on the stove.
you made a displeased sound and cupped him from proceeding before he could accidentally burn himself.
an offensive act, truly. he only barely managed to catch the heavy desire to bite you again.
as if the disgraced one could be burnt on a mere stove. he himself exceeded it in terms of capability of heat and energy—
well, in any vessel but his current, of-course.
“you hungry?” came your careful voice as you pushed the steak around a bit more to try and check the texture and see how well it had cooked.
no, ryomen was not hungry.
ryomen was starving. there was a great difference between the two and you clearly had a ways to learn it.
you flipped the pan, causing the steak to land on a ceramic plate with a denseness that made sukuna growl with desire.
fine, you had your uses, such as feeding him.
though that was a bare minimum, in his opinion. but goddamn could you could cook a good steak.
sukuna awoke to an empty apartment on the tenth day of the third moon in your capacity.
that in itself was unusual, considering your usual racket as you left for work, groceries, or even just boomed and forced sukuna awake to talk his vanished ear off about whatever bullshit occupied your pea-sized brain.
your scent still lingered, so it wasn’t like you’d been killed and the scene had been cleansed.
matter of fact, you hadn’t been gone long at all, going off his two specks that were once nostrils on a godly-carved face.
your rectangle box of warmth and technology remained connected to the wall via cord.
the nightly dishes you’d made a routine of stacking every morning were still drying on a metal-framed rack.
sukuna was ashamed to say, for once, he was in the dark. his conclusions of your whereabouts and motives were mere guesses.
settling back into the blanket, his wide eye slowly drooped shut in contentment under the familiar heat of the sun.
you’d return eventually, like always (unfortunately).
the key had turned the lock in almost two hours later with a loud ‘click’ that awoke sukuna before the door could even swing open with it’s obnoxious wooden creak.
immediately, two voices drifted inside. one familiar (yours), one masculine and dripping with sureness (unfamiliar).
“…anyway, you still didn’t have to walk me back. i appreciate it, though.” came your kindness.
a soft chuckle, almost disgusting in it’s pleasantry.
definitely fake, sukuna was quick to determine.
the door shut with an even louder click, the sound of shoes shuffling off feet and gently hitting the wall following shortly after.
“hey, i wanted to. y’know you’re the only one who responded to my text in-time?” the unknown variable of a useless sack responded, audibly still all smiles.
ryomen had witnessed the phenomenon many times. plenty when he was barricaded inside the brat’s brain, obviously, but enough when he was around you to the extent that he finally understood it’s purpose and existence.
a lazy modern version of a beautiful handwritten letter, pages of thick paper which had been scented with soft perfumes and ink drawn with gentle flicks of the wrist under moonlight.
no, this was somehow even grosser. words were shortened and it was instant, lacking the anticipation and yearning of long-distance communication.
more distant conversation, which sukuna could not be bothered to tune into. until he heard the softness of your laugh.
not only that, but it was quickly followed by, “you’ve still got the sweetest smile, yn.”
if sukuna could gag and wretch like a disgusted toddler, he would.
what was this, heian-era wooing between two noble parties not at all interested in one another beyond status and property?
usually, sukuna gave romance the benefit of the doubt. it occasionally proved to be excellently amusing to break compared to usual bonds and friendships.
this was not one of those times. that man laughed and flirted like he was rushing.
again, the king of curses could not emphasise how completely and utterly disgusted he was.
“shut up,” you murmured in flustered response.
sukuna could practically hear how you covered your mouth with your hand. how cliché. this exact dialogue was in one of the bland romances between anime protagonists in one of those shows the brat watched, no?
if not, it was just as forced as them.
“you always say that, though. and i-“
there was a pause. a long, insufferable one that meant you were actually considering picking up what this waste of meat was putting down.
sukuna wish he could wrack up a hairball at times like this. instead, he just blinked his eye shut again.
after a few more murmured comments and hushed conversation (what were you, adolescents?), footsteps headed with clear direction right into your bedroom.
then the door swung shut.
of-course, the bedroom. how predictable. sukuna had been beginning to wonder when you’d eventually show signs of lust.
you weren’t superhuman, after all, not at all like sukuna was.
if the two of you intended to produce mutual pleasure, must you produce so much noise and corny dialogue about approaching the matter first?
humans truly complicated everything. sukuna usually just told them to lay down and stop him if it hurt too bad. that’s all a bedmate needed, really.
none of this unnecessary preamble.
honestly, he had witnessed far more scandalous things.
back in the heian-era, if the average human desired another, they would simply—
well, actually, there had admittedly been a great deal of dramatic poetry involved instead of mere conversation.
he disliked remembering that.
fabric was beginning to rustle as more gentle laughter unfortunately slipped, muffled, through your cheap walls.
sukuna stared out his favourite people-watching glass.
once, the king of curses had been more than a name to fear. it had been a nursery rhyme for children alone in town during the kamakura era. a warning and legend for sorcerers, both ancient and modern.
now the king of curses was involuntarily listening to foreplay through thin walls.
life possessed a thoroughly twisted sense of humour, beyond even his own capabilities.
beyond another low murmur, no discernible sounds came from your bedroom beyond the occasional creaking, shifting, or excessively loud groans.
sukuna did not need to spy on you to know what you were doing with what-he-had-discerned to be a past lover you had never surrendered.
though, he was irritated at the slow and otherwise dry-sounding pace.
if you were going to copulate right in his area of peace with some unknown male specimen, could you at-least do it more entertainingly?
if not, why not just more efficiently? what a drag.
the bedframe was beginning to softly knock against the adjacent wall in a disappointing-sounding rhythm and sukuna’s single eye twitched.
such embarrassing noises.
time crawled by at a snail’s pace. the kind of passing that had him extra ecstatic whenever he finally got an outing from the brat’s hollow soul back then.
by the time the bedroom door had opened, sukuna had counted roughly twenty-two minutes.
that fact only disturbed him because it had been only two minutes since the last sound of pleasure was sounded.
this man you handpicked was in such a rush after? clearly he had nothing better to do than uselessly fornicate with sukuna’s human, the least he could do was select a light cotton towel and steam it to rub on your muscles.
again, sukuna had no such experience in that. he just.. knew. from the brat’s memories.
“i should go. i think i stayed too long, yn, it’s not you it’s me..”
classic. that one dated back to the heian era for sure.
but, again, sukuna must mentally reiterate what a jerk this move was. what a monster, sukuna would never.
well, not anymore. he’s in a new point of his cycle of life, so he refuses to be judged for actions committed in his previous life. or lives.
“already? you could stay, i still have my netflix-“
there was an inward groan as the man had the audacity to interrupt you. “i don’t want this to get complicated.” came a rather lame excuse. “i’ll call you.”
sukuna now understood the appeal of those so-called soap operas that flicked on long after you had dozed off watching your little electronic box.
personally, he had never wanted to non-murderously slap a human more than this in his life.
such disgusting, inexcusable behaviour (sukuna is a changed man now). worse than murder, if you hopped through a couple loopholes.
after the footsteps had faded and the front door’s disappointing wooden structure creaked loudly shut yet again, his blob form just blinked.
what an awkward bout of silence.
you must have some pride, no?
no, instead sukuna heard a lame mumble of “you said that last time” followed by a deep, heavy sigh.
sukuna’s human accepted this treatment? no. the disgraced one could not be housed by such a weak soul.
you could not seriously allow this to slide without immediate bloodshed or plotting for it. no living organism could.
eventually, aimless and slow wandering around the apartment led you before your pet blob, who just stared up at you without the usual glare.
sukuna was still mildly conflicted at your weakness, but you still stood in-front of him with a smile of warmth.
despite your hair being tousled in every way and your hand resting over your lower abdomen like it was protecting it, you still seemed to be happy to see your strange-ass pet blob.
no matter how many times sukuna debated your insanity, it always took him by surprise whenever you managed to outdo the last act of craziness.
“hey, pou.” your fingers, slightly shaky at the fault of what sukuna couldn’t decide between disgusting human emotions or physical remnants of intimacy, reached over to where he was lounging in the corner of his mini-couch.
you rubbed the top of his flesh surface, what, by anatomical logic, would be the top of his head.
oh, and now you apologised? you acted like the brat sometimes, which only displeased him more.
“—for leaving you by yourself, pou.” you mumbled, stroking his squishy form with lazy affection.
by now, sukuna had decided that your mystery sex partner was a waste of space.. more so than the average human.
sukuna truly did wish his new span of life could’ve been sin-free. a blob in such an average human being’s home, forever. until the end of his rapidly-shortening life-span.
yet this man made it impossible.
that screw-up somehow managed to interrupt your routine at-least once a week from that point onwards.
only whenever he could be bothered to deal with you enough at the reward of pleasure, sukuna could tell.
by the fifth or so visit, your fleshy pet had made up his definitely-not-villainous mind.
he no longer wanted to live and die in this vegetive state. if he were to live peacefully, he should at-least be able to speak and provide for himself.
one last act of causing suffering. just one itty bitty one.
buddha would understand. sukuna practically knew the guy personally at the end of his last life.
while he could’ve inhabited you easily, he had ultimately decided against it. this home, while familiar, would be completely useless without the life you provided it.
if ryomen was going to live an entire, boring lifetime, he might as-well do it with someone that provided him enough company and entertainment that the ultimate lack of violence wouldn’t bother him.
he figured you were good enough.
after all, neither yorozu nor his favourite uraume were options anymore. this was what he had to settle with.
the consequences of his previous conquests.
so, the decision was made, and the opportunity had come by embarrassingly easy.
the waste of a vessel had entered your apartment while you were showering late one afternoon and began digging through your fridge. a usual routine.
the male had eventually decided on a dumpling dish you had kept for leftovers from tuesday.
he poured the serving of soup into a microwave-safe bowl and placed it in the weak heat appliance where it spun over and over again.
selfish prick— not that sukuna cared in any particular way. it was just irritating.
people who acted this entitled should have the power of satoru gojo and nothing less. this man barely had enough muscle definition for sukuna to not call him a weakling.
barely wider than the brat. barely taller, too.
sukuna truly did end up in the worst vessels.
the male had shamelessly taken out the bowl from the microwave and gone to greet you once the sound of the water shutting off shuddered through the walls of the apartment.
he left his food unattended.
the sound of a plop in the soup was gentle as sukuna simply slid in, disguising himself between two dumplings and squeezing himself easily among them.
the sensation of warm broth enveloping him was surprisingly pleasant, like a hot spring.
he barely restrained the urge to slurp the golden liquid of spices, himself. of-course, he was able to for his goals.
he was ryomen sukuna, you get the gist.
this is what his existence has been reduced to, somehow. a rock of flesh among dumplings soaking in broth.
the only reason he figured this would work is because, to put it simply, the target male ate like a pig.
that was one aspect of the walking disappointment sukuna could relate to.
one slurp and an entire bowl of noodles were gone. ryomen remembered devouring the intestines of sorcerers similarly.
the bathroom door clicked, wet footsteps exiting the bathroom before sukuna heard the collision of your pure energy and the male’s perverted one in the hallway.
so close. sukuna was so close to finally being in a human body (albeit a much weaker one than the black-haired kid’s that he’d specifically chosen, but he supposed that beggar’s could not be choosers) after all these months.
“hey, yn, i’m starving as fuck. sorry, i heated up your dumplings.” the skeeze’s voice came through, not at all apologetic. “i’ll buy you more if you were saving them for anything.”
a lame trade-off. would’ve been acceptable if it was made by anyone but him specifically.
sukuna had long-began to wonder if murder was still a sin if the victim possessed such an unbearable personality.
he hated that he found the answer was yes.
“all good,” came your tiredly dismissive voice. “you can eat while i’m getting dressed, i don’t mind.”
the male made some lame jest before returning to his meal.
which he didn’t know would lead to his death and the immediate possession of his body. how hilarious.
and finally sukuna’s patience (waning, but existent) paid off.
the flesh-dumpling hidden among the others lunged upwards and collapsed simultaneously into and against the lower tongue hanging at the height of the human’s throat.
the man’s chew caught on air as the blob forced itself between his jaws like living meat.
predictably, he gagged before he even processed it.
that same choking object in his throat proceeded to enter the beginning of his actual digestive tract.
suffocating, disgusting, cold before it became burning.
sukuna contentedly began to feel his current consciousness fade in the enclosed darkness of the human body, pressed tightly against organs.
the weak scream that only nearly tore from the male’s throat immediately silenced by sukuna’s easy solution.
he wrung the neck tightly and firmly to the right the moment he gained control, instantly killing the human that had been struggling inside.
reverse cursed technique slowly sewed his neck back together, lagging much behind it’s usual power and efficiency.
no yuji-itadori-the-second on his watch.
the left arm jerked one last time, unnaturally, before sukuna blinked himself to complete awareness from the new body, his vision quick to adjust.
the muscles melted into relaxation, posture straightening and eyes narrowing into mildly-irritated disregard.
he’d done the jump from vessel to vessel enough times to not be overly-fazed or excited by it anymore. besides, this body was nothing to cheer over.
due to sukuna’s near-dead condition in his previous blob form, he was at roughly what would equate to half-a-finger’s strength compared to his complete twenty fingers.
better for a weak life, he figured.
his remaining cursed energy clung to his body, barely existent beyond even his own honed senses.
it was enough for self-preservation. that was it’s only purpose moving forward, he’s decided.
the apartment was pretty tall, too, he observed. though, that is what happened to one’s perspective after spending months being four inches tall.
though, he didn’t feel particularly impressive. if anything, it was a downgrade.
at-least in soul remains form, he had the remnants of heian era strength. now he was just some half-impressive modern male with a generic face.
if only you had better taste, he inwardly sighed.
no matter, this was bound to happen. he was inhabiting an unimpressive man, after all.
the door to your bedroom swung open, slightly-wet footsteps walking down the hall.
his nose caught your scent before your appearance before the small dining table. a beige towel was atop your head, being rubbed through your moist hair lazily.
“you okay?” obvious concern bled through your voice. “i thought i heard choking.”
you heard the choking and it still took you that long to leave your room?
maybe you wanted the male dead, too.
“i performed a simple physical manipulation technique to remove the object in my throat.”
oh, sukuna forgot that humans used shortened terms for nearly everything. perhaps there was also some kind of modern machine to help with choking, since people were so lazy.
“…bro.” he added a moment after.
the most human of terms he learnt from the brat. it worked like a charm, you nodded like you understood only after he used the ‘bro’ title.
you reached over to poke his forehead before pressing the back of it against the skin. “are you sick? you look.. strange. sullen, maybe?”
ryomen sukuna was just called “sullen” by a weak non-sorcerer.
his urge to smite you was unbearable, but he supposed part of him should learn to interact with someone that didn’t worship him.
“i merely awoken in the last hour, don’t insult my appearance.”
you expression twisted further into disbelief. “i didn’t know you knew how to use the word ‘merely’ in a sentence.”
that was an insult at the male he was occupying and not himself, so that one sukuna actually did find quite funny.
a slight smirk twitched into his expression before he waved it off dismissively.
“i..” he thought of how to pass this off. “read a dictionary in the forthcoming nights in-order to impress you with an improved vocabulary. i know you enjoy reading in your spare time.”
somehow, that was what tipped you off??? a slight act of kindness that was the bare minimum from a dedicated and returning lover somehow had your entire face twisted into an expression of pure distrust and confusion.
surely, the male had noticed your love for reading? it couldn’t be this far-fetched and out-of-character to simply involve himself in your hobbies.
your expression was telling him otherwise.
“you?” came your voice, quiet and almost-disturbed. “you did something like that? for me?”
oh, for fuck’s sake. your standards were beyond him, now.
sukuna could actively be the king of curses and you wouldn’t even mind as long as he showed you a touch of affection, would you.
“my name is ryomen sukuna, i’m an imaginary god from the heian era who was reincarnated recently. i’m a jujutsu sorcerer, and i’m living here until i die of old age, which will probably never happen. i’ve taken over your annoying bedmate’s vessel and i’ve dedicated myself to a nonviolent lifestyle.”
you stared at him blankly.
“remember shibuya last year?”
your eyes widened. “oh, shit.”
was too lazy to edit this lol enjoy or whateva
