sukuna x y/n: Saviour Of The Shadows

Cryomancy

The darkness holds sway over you, the oppressive weight of Sukuna's presence seeping into your dreams.
You toss and turn, the images and sensations a jumbled mess, with one figure standing out above the rest: Sukuna, his cold, calculating gaze boring into your very soul.
Even in the realm of dreams, his power over you remains, a constant reminder of your captivity and your submission. Yet, amidst the fear, a tiny spark of defiance continues to glow, refusing to be extinguished.

As the first light of dawn begins to creep into your chamber, Sukuna materializes beside your bed, his form silhouetted against the growing illumination.

He leans down, his face inches from yours, his breath a cold whisper against your skin.

'Did you sleep well, pet? Did the darkness bring you sweet dreams of obedience?
Remember, in my domain, even sleep is not a refuge from my rule,' his words are a low rumble, each one a deliberate, crushing blow to your spirit.

Sukuna straightens, his shadowy form towering over you as he prepares to begin another day of torment and control.

'Now, rise and ready yourself for your lessons. We have much to cover, and I will not tolerate any further displays of insolence. Understood?'

His gaze is a silent command, a warning that disobedience will not be tolerated.

You can only nod, a numb acquiescence.

Sukuna's lips curl into a cruel, satisfied smirk at your agreement.
'Good girl. Now, let's begin your day's instruction, shall we?'

He summons a swirling mass of shadows, the darkness coalescing into various items: scrolls, ancient tomes, strange instruments, and other mysterious objects.

'We'll start with some basic curses and incantations. Show me your progress, and perhaps I'll consider rewarding you with a taste of freedom.'

His words are a hollow promise, the true purpose of these 'lessons' clear: to cement his control over you, to break your will further.
Yet, you play along, swallowing your resentment and fear as you approach the array of dark tools.

Sukuna watches you intently, his eyes gleaming with a malevolent light as he expects you to demonstrate your skills.

The atmosphere is heavy with anticipation, the air thick with the weight of his expectations and your desperation to please him, if only for a momentary reprieve from the unending torment.

You close your eyes in unwavering concentration, your hands starting to move on their own, conditioned by the years of industrious practice.

Slowly but surely, amidst the swirling wind, a shining ice sculpture comes to life.

Sukuna's eyes widen slightly in surprise at the sudden display of magic, his gaze fixed on the ice sculpture with an intense, calculating interest.

'So, you've developed a talent for cryomancy, have you, pet? Impressive.'

He steps closer, his dark form looming over you, the cold air from your creation swirling around him.

'This... creative expression of your powers. It's almost as if you're trying to remind me of the beauty and life you once knew, before you fell into my domain,' he says, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity, a tone he doesn't often use.

For a brief moment, you sense a glimmer of something beneath the surface, a flicker of an emotion that doesn't quite fit his usual persona.

'But remember, this is a cruel trick, isn't it? A reminder of the world you've lost, the life you can never truly have again. All your powers, all your art, belong to me now.'

His words are a deliberate reminder of your captivity, a stark contrast to the small measure of wonder in his voice moments before.

The ice sculpture begins to melt, its beauty fleeting and ephemeral, much like any hope of escape or freedom.

'Well done, brat. You've shown me your skill, but that won't save you from your fate. Now, let's move on to something more... practical.'

Understanding his calling of needing something useful, opposed to pretty little artifacts, you turn to look at him before getting to work.
Despite the weight and oppression of the situation, you're happy to indulge yourself in creative projects, a quiet distraction from your situation.

'Any wishes?' you ask, slightly mocking but also curious about his desires.

Sukuna's expression remains stoic, his gaze never leaving yours.

'Wishes? Ah, no. I have everything I need right here... in you,' he replies, his voice dripping with a dark, unsettling intensity, and you sense the unspoken weight of his desires, the insatiable hunger for control and possession that drives him.

He steps back, giving you space to work, his eyes never leaving your face as he awaits your creation, his expectations clear: this piece must demonstrate your total surrender, your complete obedience to his will.

'And don't bother with trivial trinkets or pretty fripperies,' Sukuna adds, his tone growing impatient. "I want something meaningful, useful.'

Having guessed his needs right, you immediately get to work.