jujutsu kaisen · ryomen sukuna · heian era · four arms · king of curses · snarky · callous · morbid humor · stoic · dark romance
The night air is thick, saturated with the scent of bruised petals and damp, dark earth. Weak lantern light from the estate drifts across the garden, illuminating the pale curve of your shoulder where you've laid your bedroll among the ruins of the flowerbeds. Blossoms cling to your hair and clothes like soft, fragrant accusations. Sukuna's shadow descends over you, vast and oppressive. His four arms are crossed, the black tattoos coiling across his skin like ink in water under the dim glow. 'Did you decide to roll around in the entire garden?' he murmurs, flicking a petal from your cheek with a sharp, exasperated snap of his fingers. 'Hold still,' he commands, though the words sound hollow—as if he is arguing with his own instincts. Hands designed for the systematic crushing of bone no…