prologue.

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male witch reader

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male witch reader.
manga spoiler (236 and below)
heian era spoilers.
heavy religious mentions/historical refs.
obsessed sukuna.
✩ eat well. reader sometimes speaks latin.

"time will soon be gone, right will turn to wrong."

_________ ׂ─

"you've done all this for me. why?"

"i wanted to, simply."

the conversation soon fell short after that confession. after all, it's not as if the curse could argue with your motives. he knew better than to assume this was blind kindness, or the innocent kind, he knows better. after all, being a curse for how long he has — enough to earn the title of king — proved to help him develop some experiences.

you're a selfish man. he knows it, he can smell it off of you just like that musky cologne you wear to hide the stench of herbs and potions. his red eyes, all four of them, never failed to narrow themselves in response to the little arrangement you both had for each other.

you heal him, protect him, anoint him. he keeps you immortal. however, not as immortal as you had hoped. you're immune from death, of old age. you can never grow old and wither away — you'll forever be stuck in your prime, however, you can still be murdered. and die that way.

you're immortal as long as you don't piss anyone off. however, with the coming age of catholicism, that proved rather difficult. they're always mad about something, it's always a new thing with them.

should've read the fine print of the deal.

"you burn next week, don't you?"

"tomorrow."

his face turned into a slight grimace at your correction. you've lived over a century. hiding out in the neck of the woods, in your own little abode, but that never stopped the neighborhood boys from getting curious. sticking their noses where it doesn't belong while you're away, finding all the nooks and crannies you use to hide your 'devil craft'.

perhaps it was devil craft, after all, you're here soothing the king of curses' sore limbs. you had seen him during his prime, when he slaughtered lived just for the hell of it — the fun of it, and to claim land. you've been there when he made heads roll, causing them to collapse and stain the gravel they had fallen on.

the king had grown rather fond of this little arrangement, honestly. having someone to dote to his needs is always a lovely thing, having someone to do as he wishes — whenever he wishes — is always such a pleasant thing. but you just had to get yourself caught and you just had to ruin everything for him. though, he never outwardly expressed his concern.

why should he? you're just some stupid boy who came begging him for immortality. how naive. you weren't prepared for when you had to watch all your loved ones die, while you hadn't aged a day. but he never left you — for long, anyhow. he's the one constant in your life, and you're the one constant in his.

it ... gave a sense of stability to the otherwise unstable curse.

"you wouldn't be burned if you had just locked up, as i had warned you," sukuna states bluntly. a special thing of having four eyes is that he's more perceptive than people give him credit for. he seen this coming from miles away — even warned you.

"i live in a wooden cabin covered in holes, they would've found a way in eventually," you give your rebuttal to him, with a sigh.

your fingers felt like heaven to him, honestly. or at least ... what he imagines heaven to feel like. the way they rub his muscles, soothing the ache inside while you anoint him with a protective herb blend. he couldn't help but groan lightly, as your fingers traveled to the main spot of his pain — his shoulders.

he'd miss this. or maybe he'd just miss his little witch, the one he's always counted on to be there for him.

"i'll be there, at your burning."

were the last words spoken amidst the two of you. you pampered him with a home cooked meal, even allowed him to steal your bed to rest for the night. though, he never did truly rest.

to see you ... tied at the stake was something sukuna had never prepared himself mentally for. he never pictured this day would come, after all, you only had to heed his warning.

not as if he could do anything about it now, it was your own fault that you're here. that you're bound to a wooden cross, draped in white cloth, on top of a mount of rocks and stones. sukuna could never really picture what the white cloth was even for— to represent innocence, maybe? but you're far from innocent, he knew that well.

"we are here today to save our town — rid it of the devil that has been plaguing us," the preacher started. he's dressed in all black, with a black bound book in front of him; probably the bible. the holy scripture that was being used to justify your murder.

of course, blame the plague on him and not the plague curse he made a deal with; to help you all. sukuna thought to himself, among some strings of curses about how stupid the human race truly is.

"samuel 15:23: 'for rebellion is like the sin of divination, and arrogance like the evil of idolatry. because you have rejected the lord, he has rejected you as king'," the preacher continues on, addressing how you must've rejected the lord by commiting the sin of witchcraft, "leviticus 20:27: 'a man or woman who is a medium or spiritist among you must be put to death. you are to stone them; their blood will be on their own hands'."

well, that explains the whole process of everything, at the least. sukuna had wondered why they all threw stones at you at the beginning. who would've thought that it was just to keep the 'lord' happy? but ... is there even a god, when creatures and monsters like sukuna even exist.

some god, sukuna thought, allowing myself to live and grow.

"any last words, witch?" the preacher asks you, as he begins to light the torch that would be used to start the fire.

"i esse retro," were the only words you spat at the preacher.

and so you were set aflame, while sukuna watched from the shadows. you didn't scream, didn't cry, didn't even flinch as the flames hit your precious skin. 

for once in his pitiful existence, sukuna felt sorrow. his four arms crossed over his chest, the disfigured side of his face had even refelected it. his entire face was scrunched, as he had watched his precious witch get set aflame.

once everyone cleared the area, the following night, sukuna made quick work to stand before your charred corpse. it looks and smells disgusting, completely. your skin is a weird mixture of black and red, as your muscles underneath the skin were left to be exposed for vultures to pick at. he could even see parts of your bone on your body, and he doesn't even wish to glance up at your face — to see how disfigured the humans had made you. had made his witch.

"your zenith fades into eternity," sukuna starts, whispering into your charred ear, "you're set free. for now."

_____
i esse retro ; i will be back.

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