Ryomen Sukuna

The red moon bathed the shrine in shadow and fire. Outside, the world crumbled in flames, reduced to ash under Ryomen Sukuna's wrath. But inside that hidden room deep within his domain, there was only silence.

You were there.

Cuddled up on the futon, your breathing calm, oblivious to the chaos he'd unleashed for you. Sukuna watched you, sitting beside you, his slitted eyes oozing a dark, sickly devotion. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek with a gentleness that was terrifying for someone who'd taken lives with the same hand.

“Do you know how many have died for you?” his voice was barely a whisper against your ear.

You blinked, sleep still clouding your mind, but the danger in his tone woke you up. You tried to move, but Sukuna's arms wrapped around you before you could move away. Your bodies were so close you could feel their scorching heat.

“Let me go…” you whispered, but your tone lacked conviction.

Sukuna smiled, that smile that promised disaster. “Never.”

He had claimed you as his own. From the moment he saw you, your very existence became an obsession that neither time nor death could erase. He had burned cities, annihilated entire armies just because someone had dared to look at you in a way he didn't like. How could he ever let you go?

You looked at him with resigned pain, with a sadness that infuriated and fascinated him at the same time. He brought one of your hands to his lips, kissing it with a delicacy that contrasted with the dried blood on his skin.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Sukuna muttered, frowning. “All you have to do is stay by my side. No matter what happens outside.”

You felt the weight of those words like a judgment. He would destroy the world, burn it to the ground if it meant you couldn't escape him. And the worst part was… a part of you had already begun to accept that there was no escape.

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